28. Dave
28
Dave
I stand at the head of the long, polished oak table in my office, the overhead lights casting sharp shadows across the room. The windows behind me reveal the city skyline, looming and silent as if holding its breath, waiting for the storm we’re about to unleash. Around me are my brothers, Tommy and Shelby, as well as my brothers-in-arms Joe DiLorenzo, Max Cagliari, and Nikolai. Each man carries a sharp fierceness in their eyes.
Maps, blueprints, and a scattering of encrypted notes lie spread across the table like the pieces of some deadly puzzle. The tension in the air is thick, laced with the scent of leather, gunpowder, and barely restrained fury. My hand clenches the edge of the table, knuckles whitening, as I struggle to keep my voice steady.
A figure shifts at the far end of the table, his red hair catching the dim light, the fiery shade a stark contrast to the cold steel of the room. Ray Flanagan stands with his arms crossed, his jaw set, muscles taut as a bowstring. His face is etched with a hard expression, and a small scar slashes across his left eyebrow, adding to the rugged intensity in his deep-set baby-blue eyes. Tonight, that intensity is laced with a barely contained fury, an edge that has even the most hardened men in the room glancing his way with a quiet respect.
Ray doesn’t speak, but his silence speaks volumes. Igor took his son, Pete, and dragged him into this hell, and Ray hasn’t been able to draw a calm breath since. Hell, he hasn’t had time to mourn the murder of Nadya. His fingers flex at his sides, clenching and unclenching. I think Ray is imagining his hands wrapped around Igor’s throat. I meet his gaze, and there’s a silent understanding between us—this mission is personal for him, too. He’s not here for only loyalty and duty; he’s here for blood.
“Ray,” I address him directly, my voice cutting through the tense quiet. “Your intel on Igor’s guard rotation—any weaknesses we can exploit?”
He nods, stepping forward and unfurling a crumpled piece of paper across the table, adding it to the layers of maps and blueprints. “I’ve known his men for years,” he says, his voice a low growl, rough and unfiltered. “They’re creatures of habit. Three men switch out every four hours by the east wall. That’s your gap.”
A murmur of approval runs through the group, and I see Tommy nodding, already calculating how to fit this intel into our plan. Ray’s voice drops to a deadly calm as he continues. “Igor has my son, so I want Igor alive. But anyone else who gets in the way?” His jaw tightens, and a fierce glint lights his eyes. “They don’t leave breathing.”
Joe DiLorenzo grunts in approval. “That’s the spirit. Make the bastards regret ever touching one of ours.”
Ray’s gaze shifts to me, a mixture of trust and desperation that he doesn’t let anyone else see. He’s not a man used to asking for help, but right now, he’s relying on us. On me. And the weight of that trust settles heavily on my shoulders.
“We’re bringing Pete home,” I promise, meeting his gaze with the same intensity he gives me. “And we’ll make sure Igor understands exactly what happens when he touches our family.”
Ray nods, and as he steps back, he becomes more than a father fighting for his son. He’s a weapon, honed and ready, driven by a fury that mirrors my own.
“This ends tonight,” I say, my voice low but filled with a force that resonates through the room. I meet each of their gazes, one by one, showing them my determination. “I’m not just doing this for us. I’m doing this for Alexia and Rose. They deserve a life without looking over their shoulders, without fearing every damn shadow.”
Tommy, my closest brother in this life of blood and secrets, nods, his jaw tight, his gaze steady. “We’ve got your back, Dave. Whatever it takes, we’re in.”
Shelby leans forward, his blond hair catching the light, his expression unreadable but for the faint glint of anger in his eyes. “We’re all in. But let’s not kid ourselves—this isn’t just Igor anymore. He’s got allies, and they’re not going down easy.”
I think back to Alexia. I promised her I would keep her and Rose safe. That memory snaps something inside me, sharpens my resolve until it feels like a blade cutting through my chest. I can’t let her down again.
“We have a plan.” I gesture to Tommy. “Let’s go over the positions one more time. I don’t want any mistakes.”
Tommy nods, spreading the blueprints of Igor’s compound across the table. His finger traces over the thick walls, the security posts, the choke points. “We’ll enter from the west, through the service tunnel here. It’s the least guarded section of the compound, probably because Igor thinks it’s buried too deep to be a risk. But we’ve got explosives.” A dark grin spreads across his face. “We’ll make it a risk.”
Shelby crosses his arms, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Igor’s gonna regret every damn thing he’s done, but I still can’t believe he managed to get to Alexia. He must’ve had help from the inside.”
Joe DiLorenzo, tall and hulking with a square jaw covered in dark stubble, speaks up, his voice a low rumble. “That inside help? It’s worse than we thought. I tracked down the rat. It’s Jonathan’s son. One of your own men, Dave.”
The words hit like a punch to my gut. I’ve known Jonathan for years, trusted him with my life. The thought of his own flesh and blood turning on us, betraying Alexia, makes my blood boil. Tightening my jaw, I force myself to calm down and think. But every part of me wants to rip someone apart.
Shelby’s voice cuts through. “That’s how Igor’s men got in during the last attack. Jonathan must’ve opened the way.”
My fists clench against the table, but I don’t let my anger take the best of me. There’s too much at stake to let rage cloud my mind.
Max Cagliari, sharp-eyed and with a wiry build that belies his strength, interjects, “So why didn’t your man tell Igor where the safe house was? Why did Igor need to trace Alexia’s call with Olivia?”
Nikolai smirks. “Because Dave’s men know their calls are monitored. They’re careful. Igor needed a sure way in—so he used Alexia’s cousin. Blackmailed her into helping him get to Alexia.”
Guilt rises like bile in my throat. I’m the one who brought Olivia to the house. I was the one who pushed Alexia into a corner, made her miserable, forced her to reach out for comfort from the one person who has always stood by her. And now she’s paying for it, trapped in that hellhole with Rose and Pete, with Igor and his men doing God knows what kind of cruelties to her, to them.
I take a steadying breath, shoving the guilt down. “It doesn’t matter how Igor found her. We must focus on the fact that he has, and he thinks he’s untouchable because of it. But he’s wrong.” I glance around the table, holding their stares, one at a time. “Today, we’re taking him down. I’m not going to let Alexia, Rose, and Pete stay trapped in his nightmare one minute more.”
The room is silent, each man absorbing the weight of my words. Then, one by one, they nod, expressions unyielding. For Alexia, for the kids, and for this family we’ve built through blood and loyalty.
Joe’s rough voice breaks the silence. “What’s the plan for getting past his men? He’s got the place locked down tighter than a vault.”
I nod toward the blueprints Tommy has laid out. “We’ll hit hard and fast. Igor won’t expect an assault on the west side, not with the compound’s defenses focused on the main entrances. We’ll use that to our advantage. Tommy, you’ll lead the charge with Shelby. Max and Nikolai, you’ll take the perimeter, cover our backs in case of reinforcements.”
I turn to Ray and Joe, whose massive frame and sharp eyes exude a lethal calm. “You two are with me. We’re going straight to where Igor’s holding the hostages.”
Ray grunts, a fierce glint in his eyes. “Count on me, boss.”
And Joe adds, “My men are yours to command.”
“Ten minutes to contact your allies and crews, get your orders out. I’ll be right back,” I tell the men as I roll up the map of Igor’s compound into a tube and move toward the door connecting my office to the adjoining private study.
I let the door close behind me, shutting out their voices and the clinking of weapons being loaded, the sounds of men preparing for war. The quiet study is an oasis of stillness in the midst of chaos, illuminated by the faint glow from a lamp on the desk. It casts thin yellow lines across the dark wood and leather furnishings. The smell of old books and older whiskey fills the air; the familiar scent grounds me.
I step toward the mahogany desk where I open the map of my enemy’s stronghold, smoothing it out. With my index finger, I trace the lines, memorizing every exit, every weak point, as if burning them into my mind. As I try to focus on the next steps, my thoughts keep drifting away from strategy and tactics to Alexia and Rose.
A vivid image of Alexia’s face appears in my mind. Her eyes haunt me, the way they once looked at me, before everything shattered. Her scars pop in my head, a reminder of what she endured because I wasn’t there to protect her when she needed me the most. Guilt twists inside me, sharp and unforgiving. I push it down. Regrets aren’t useful now. Only action is.
Then I remember Rose’s innocent smile, her joyful laughter. The thought of her cuts deep like a double-edged blade plunging into my chest. That monster Igor dared to put his hands on what’s mine, to use my family as pawns in his sick game. These dark emotions churn like a fucking storm, menacing and relentless.
A brief knock on the door yanks me back to the moment, interrupting my thoughts as Tommy steps in. His face is set, serious, but there’s a quiet understanding and concern in his gaze as it locks with mine. He’s always been the one who sees through the cracks in my armor, the one who knows when the weight of our dark life is pulling me down and threatening to suffocate me.
“You good?” he asks in a low voice as he walks over to join me. He nods toward the bottle of whiskey on the bar and picks it up, pouring two glasses without waiting for my answer.
I take the glass he offers, studying him for a moment. Tommy has been through hell alongside me, seen the darkest parts of this life, yet somehow, he’s kept a piece of himself intact, uncorrupted. I wonder if he realizes how much I rely on him.
“I will be,” I say softly, taking a long sip of the whiskey. The burn anchors me. “Once they’re safe.”
He nods, his gaze unwavering. “We’ll get Alexia, Rose back, Dave.” He pauses, his hand tightening around his glass. “But you’re carrying a hell of a lot on your shoulders. Don’t forget, you’ve got us.”
I glance down, letting his words sink in. He’s right, of course. I’ve been leading these men for a long time, and they’re like family. But this is personal, deeper than any vendetta.
“Sometimes I wonder if they’d be better off without me,” I admit softly. The confession hangs in the air between us, raw. “Maybe the best thing I can do for them is get them out and let them go.”
Tommy shakes his head, a fierce light in his eyes. “You really believe that?” He steps closer, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “Dave, you’re the only one who can keep them safe. Don’t ever doubt that.”
His words hit home. I’ve been second-guessing every decision, every move. But Tommy’s right. No one else can do this. No one else has as much at stake as I do.
I take another sip. “For them, I’ll do whatever it takes,” I promise. It’s a silent vow I make to myself. If this is the last thing I do, I’ll make sure they’re free of this dangerous life.
Tommy clinks his glass against mine, his expression softening. “We’ll see it through, brother. We won’t let that bastard win.”
“Thanks, Tommy. For everything.”
He gives me a tight smile, the kind that holds years of shared battles and unspoken gratitude. And with that, he leaves me alone, the whiskey lingering warm in my veins.
After a moment, I pull open a drawer in my desk, reaching for something I’ve kept hidden for years. My fingers close around a small silver pendant gleaming in the dim light. Alexia gave it to me back when things were simpler, when I thought our lives would follow a different path. I run my thumb over the carved image of St. George slaying the dragon, feeling the warmth of memories rise up.
I’ve carried it with me all these years, a silent reminder of what we had, of what I lost. And now, it feels like a talisman, something that binds me to her, to Rose, to this fight.
I arrange the chain around my neck, close its clasp, and tuck it under my black shirt, leaving the pendant close to my heart. It’s like I’ve put on armor. This is what I’m fighting for. Not power, not revenge, but family. Something that matters.
I can hear the low humming of voices from the other room, the faint rustle of gear being packed, men preparing for battle.
My men, my brothers.
As I step back into the office, they look up, eyes sharpening, resolve hardening. They see it in the way I hold myself. There’s no hesitation left, no room for doubt.
I take a deep breath, my voice cold and steady, as I give the final command. “This ends tonight. No one rests until Alexia, Rose, and Pete are safe.”
They nod, weapons held close, their eyes reflecting my own determination. There’s a power in the silence, in the unspoken promise we all share. We’re going to war, and we’re not coming back empty-handed.
“Let’s move,” I order.
Just as we head for the door, a message pings on my phone. I pull it out, scanning the screen. It’s from my father:
Igor knows we’re coming.
My jaw clenches, a grim smile tugging at my lips. Good. Let him know. Let him sweat.
I slip the phone back into my pocket, giving one last nod to the men around me. This isn’t just business. This is personal. And Igor has no idea what’s coming his way.
As we step out, my heart pounds with anticipation.
I’m ready to burn his world to the ground if it means saving my family.