CHAPTER 26
Rodian
“No!” Rosie shouts, frustration tightening her voice. “Tim, do you see anything?”
“Nothing,” the kid says. “Wait! Wait! Rodian, make a U-turn. You’ve passed a road five miles back. You need to go left there.”
“Are you sure?” Rosie asks. “Hold up. Andrei’s tracker just flashed eight miles south.”
“Which fucking direction?” I roar.
There’s silence for way too fucking long, then Rosie says, “Either they’re scrambling the signal, or the tracking device is malfunctioning. It’s jumping all over the place.”
I slam on the brakes, and after bringing the SUV to a screeching stop, I hit my fist against the fucking steering wheel. “Blyad?!”
“Just give me a few minutes,” Rosie mutters.
As if we have the fucking time.
Iisus Khristos, they’re going to kill him. I wouldn’t be where I am today without Andrei. They know taking my right-hand man out will cripple me severely.
I begin shaking my head, refusing to give up. Glancing up and down the road, I listen to my gut and make a U-turn.
Anastasia sits quietly beside me, her thumb moving fast from fingertip to fingertip.
As I drive back to the road Tim pointed out, I give her hands a quick squeeze and murmur, “We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”
Message after message pops up on the dashboard screen.
Atanas. Constantin. Devrin. Ryo, Enzo.
They’re all letting me know they’re coming to help.
If the fuckers kill Andrei, I will soak the fucking ground with their blood.
No, fuck that. I’m doing it anyway for daring to go after my best friend.
“Rodian,” Rosie says, her tone somber. “The signal is gone. I’m sorry. There’s no telling where they are. Wait for the–”
“I’ll take it from here. Thanks for trying.”
I end the call and dial Sergei’s number.
“Why are we driving in circles?” he asks.
“We think the tracking device malfunctioned. Go get gas and gather the men. I’ll be out here driving around. Maybe I get lucky.”
“You want me to leave you?!” he snaps. “The fuck?”
“It’s an order, Sergei!”
“No. Andrei will kill me. I’ll get men to bring gas, but I’m not leaving you.”
It’s the first time he’s disobeyed me, but he’s right. Andrei won’t hesitate to kill him if he finds out I was left unprotected.
“Fine. Make the calls.”
The line disconnects, and as I reach a fork in the road, I stop the SUV and get out.
“What are you doing?” Anastasia calls from where she’s still sitting in the car.
“Checking for signs.”
I search for anything that will tell me if they passed through here, but there’s nothing.
“Rodian, Atanas is calling,” my wife notifies me.
I get back into the SUV and answer, “I’m a little busy.”
“I know. Wait for us. Constantin and I will be there in two and a half hours.”
“I don’t have that kind of time.”
Another video call comes through, and knowing what it means, the blood in my veins turns to ice as I accept it.
The sight of Andrei, tied to a chair in an otherwise empty room, comes onto the screen.
He looks straight at the camera and growls, “This is not on you.”
A masked man suddenly appears on screen, punching Andrei before stepping back again.
My friend spits blood onto the floor, then looks at whoever is in the room with him. “No matter what you do, they’re going to kill me. Revenge for Sokolov. I don’t want you to watch. End –”
The masked man appears again, this time holding a K-Bar. He slashes Andrei across the face, from his temple to his chin.
I feel that cut straight through my fucking soul.
“End the fucking call!” Andrei roars angrily.
“Rodian,” Anastasia whimpers.
Getting out of the SUV, with the phone in my hand, I slam the door shut. “No. Tell me what you see.”
“Oleg Junior.” Another slash right through his left eye.
“Mercenaries.” Andrei manages to get his right hand free from the rope restraining his wrist to the chair, and as he swings at the masked fucker, another one joins, grabbing his arm and holding it down.
The first one brings the K-Bar down on Andrei’s hand, taking his whole pinky and half of his other finger off.
I almost close my eyes but force them to stay open. “I’m at a fork in the road! Where do I go?”
“Left!” Andrei shouts between grunts of pain as they punch and slice him. “Left. Left. Right. Left.”
Hauling ass, I get in, and clipping my phone to the holder on the dash, I start the engine and floor the gas.
“Oh my God,” Anastasia cries. “Andrei!”
While I focus on driving as fast as possible and Andrei is being tortured, my wife’s courage knows no bounds as she begins to talk to him.
“Listen to my voice, Andrei. You’re alone at a cabin in the woods.
You can hear water trickling nearby as the snow melts.
Birds sing. Just focus on my voice. You open your front door and walk past the trees, following a trail your feet have carved out.
Do you hear the birds? Feel the breeze. The sun breaks through the treetops, warming your skin.
Then you see a lake where you like to fish.
There are no other people. Just you and nature. ”
Throughout it all, I see Andrei checking out, his expression going blank, and I think it’s because he went to the safe place Anastasia was describing.
“Bring him!’ A man shouts, and the last I see of my friend is the blood coating his cut-up face before the video call ends.
The fact that they’re moving him tells me I’m close and they’re making a run for it.
“There’s a message from Rosie,” Anastasia gets out before she begins to cry hard.
I check the text and see it’s GPS coordinates Rosie sent and realize she probably tracked the call.
Passing the device to Anastasia, I say, “Put the coordinates into the map. Tell me where it is.”
Even though she’s trembling violently, she does as she’s told, then says, “Up ahead, turn right.”
Movement behind me draws my attention, and glancing in the rearview mirror, I see sedans and SUVs as my army joins us.
Just as my gaze returns to the road ahead, two vans come speeding from the right, fishtailing as they take the sharp turn.
“There they are!” Anastasia exclaims.
“That’s a decoy.” I take the right, then bark, “Where to next?”
“Just go straight for two miles.”
I notice how a few of my men keep going after the van, while the rest stay on my tail.
“Just around the bend, you have to turn left,” my wife gives me more directions.
“Look in the glove compartment. There are two guns.”
She yanks it open and quickly retrieves the weapons, and as I take the turn, she lets out a peep.
Up ahead, black smoke starts to billow into the air, and as we get closer, an old shed is on fire. I keep going, my foot pressing the gas pedal hard. Suddenly the stretch of tar ends and we hit gravel, which makes the wheels spin for grip.
Dust and rocks kick up into the air, and I fight the steering wheel so I don’t lose control.
Seeing a cloud of dust further up, I know in the pit of my soul Andrei is in that car.
“I’m coming, brat,” I grit through clenched teeth. “Hold on, Anastasia!”
She braces herself, and as I catch up to the car, I go around the side before slamming on the brakes while turning the steering wheel sharply.
The nose of the sedan crashes into my side, and it pushes us a few feet before stopping.
Not even bothering to open the window, I grab one of the guns from Anastasia and shoot at the driver and fucker in the passenger seat.
The bullets riddle the bastards, and only then do I let the car roll forward, so I can force my door open.
Sergei parks behind the car, and as he gets out, my other men arrive as well.
My heart thunders in my throat as I run to the back door, but the fucking thing is locked. I’m running on pure adrenaline and worry as I grip the driver’s side window that’s open an inch and yank the fucking thing out. Glass shatters, and not caring about being cut, I unlock the doors.
Sergei rips the back one open, and as he hooks his hands under Andrei’s armpits and begins to haul him out, Andrei lets out a tired chuckle. “Never… fucking… listen.”
“We’ve got you,” I say as I help Sergei carry him to the Rolls-Royce, and as we load him into the back seat, I shout, “Anastasia! Come get into this car.”
I climb into the back, lifting Andrei’s head onto my lap, and as I look down at all the blood and realize he’s bleeding out, the worry returns full force.
The instant Anastasia is in the passenger seat, she starts ripping her dress. As she passes strip after strip of fabric to me, I do my fucking best to bandage the wounds that are bleeding the most while Sergei drives us back to the city.
I’ll hunt down the fuckers after I get Andrei to the hospital.
The drive back to the city takes for-fucking-ever, and all I can do is watch how my friend grows weaker.
“I’m here,” I murmur as I keep a piece of fabric pressed to the gunshot wound in his gut.
Andrei opens his right eye and keeps staring at me for so long that fear rips my heart out of my chest when I think he’s gone.
But then he blinks slowly. “Ana…” he whispers.
“Yes.” She spins around and looks at Andrei from between the front seats.
“Tell… me… again.”
She reaches for his left hand, gripping it tightly. “You’re at a log cabin you built yourself. Tall pine trees keep it hidden from the world. When you move around, the wood creaks, and everything smells fresh, the air crisp.” His eyes drift shut, and his breathing turns from ragged to shallow.
Don’t do this to me. Please. I can’t lose him.
“You got lazy and let your hair grow long like Rodian’s, and you look like a bearded caveman.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, giving me a surge of hope.
“You hunt and fish for food, living off the land that’s just as wild as you.
No people. Only you and nature, and you’re at peace.
Every sound is familiar. Every twig that snaps and bird that chirps is the heartbeat of the forest all around you.
You feel it in your soul and become one with it.
” Anastasia pauses when her voice hitches, and she struggles not to cry, but she somehow fights it and continues, “When you’re fishing, the sun reflecting off the lake, animals come to drink water, not bothered by you at all.
They’ve accepted you as part of their surroundings, and when you move, it’s quiet and unhurried.
You have all the time in the world to just be at peace. ”
She weaves a trance around Andrei, and I hope the picture she’s painting for him is all he sees and that he feels the peace.
Sergei finally pulls up to the hospital and comes to help me carry Andrei inside.
Anastasia doesn’t let go of Andrei’s hand until we place him on a gurney, and as the nurses run down a hallway with him, she comes to wrap her arms around me.
“He’s going to be okay,” she says, her voice thick as she cries. “He’s strong and will pull through.”
He just has to.