30. Dave
30
Dave
T he air in this long, narrow concrete tunnel is thick and oppressive, every breath scraping down my throat like sandpaper. Shadows cling to the walls, their dark edges sharpened by the bare bulbs overhead. Their light is a weak, yellow glow barely cutting through the darkness, casting strange, distorted shadows over the faces of the men around me. We’re moving in near silence, every step a measured whisper on the hard floor. My heart pounds, steady but fierce, each beat echoing the relentless march forward. It also beats for Alexia and Rose as the weight of what’s to come oppresses me. There’s no room for error or fear. Still, relentless dread coils in my gut, a dark thing I keep locked tight beneath the surface. It’s the terror of failing them again, the horror of arriving too late. So, I choose not to think about these outcomes because I won’t survive this scenario.
Ray stands right beside me, his square jaw set so tightly that a muscle pulses under the skin. His baby-blue eyes are trained forward like he’s envisioning his next steps to ensure his son’s freedom. The dim light makes his red hair look like it’s on fire, highlighting his grim determination. While working with my family, he’s seen too much to be fazed by the scent of decay that clings to these walls. But I recognize something else lurking behind his gaze because it’s mirrored in mine: desperation. We can’t afford to lose today. Too much rides on this mission.
“Through here,” I say quietly, pointing to the narrow service door up ahead. It’s our way into Igor’s fortress. The intel says it’s barely guarded, that Igor doesn’t consider this tunnel a threat. Typical arrogance. But I know better than to assume it’ll be easy. I glance at Tommy, his face tense, brow furrowed in concentration. His hand tightens around the grip of his gun, a silent affirmation that he’s ready for whatever we find on the other side.
The memory of Rose’s tea party fills my mind, her innocent smile so bright and trusting. Her tiny hands pouring imaginary tea, the way she giggled as she pretended to serve me. Rose doesn’t know darkness, and damn it, she shouldn’t have to. But Igor enjoys taking what’s good and pure and turning it inside out. I won’t let Rose’s innocence become another one of his twisted victims.
We push forward, muscles wound tight, an electric energy crackling in the air. As we reach the door, I raise my fist to halt the team and press my ear against the cool metal. Silence. But that doesn’t mean anything. I know Igor’s games, his sick enjoyment of making his enemies walk into his traps. I grit my teeth, renewed anger flaring up—rage at him, at the brutal, endless cycle that brought us all here. But beneath that, there is something more potent: the memory of Rose’s smile or of Alexia’s soft gaze. I stand to lose these things if I fail here.
With a nod to Ray and Tommy, I signal to advance. We slip through the door and enter Igor’s compound, our steps swallowed by heavy silence. The concrete walls stretch, high and unyielding, so bare that it feels like they are closing in as we go. This place might be a fortress, but it’s also a tomb built to trap, to crush. It’s like even the walls themselves are eager to see us fall.
My earpiece crackles, and Nikolai’s voice cuts through the static, low and urgent. “Dave, I’ve tapped into Igor’s security cameras system. I’m feeding them images of empty corridors as I monitor your real-time movements.”
“Good. That’s going according to plan,” I state.
“You’ve got about fifty yards before you hit the first checkpoint. Move fast.”
“Roger that.” I grip my gun tighter.
I catch Tommy’s eye. His face is grim as he gives me a nod. We’ve faced death before more times than I can count. But this is different. The stakes are higher. The consequences, final.
As we push forward, my mind flashes back to Alexia. The cruel scars on her back, the haunted look in her eyes. She’s been through hell, and Igor’s twisted fingerprints are all over that journey. I know her strength and resilience. But the thought of Igor’s hands on her now, or on Rose, makes my vision go red.
We move in a staggered line, eyes darting, every sense tuned to the slightest shift or the faintest sound. As we approach the inner gates, all hell breaks loose. Gunfire explodes from the shadows, bullets tearing through the air, ricocheting off the walls. Igor’s soldiers have been waiting for us. Of course they have!
“Down!” I shout, diving behind a concrete pillar as rounds spray past, sparks dancing off the walls. A bullet zooms past my face and hits Ray’s shoulder, just a hair’s breadth away from the edge of his Kevlar vest. He drops to one knee, his face contorting in pain, clutching the spot. Blood seeps between his fingers, dark and unforgiving. He struggles but stands to his full height again. The next projectile shatters his kneecap, and he falls to the floor.
Ray’s breathing comes out in gasps as he tries to get to his feet, his hand slipping on the blood-soaked surface.
“Ray!” I bark, crouching beside him. “Stay with me.”
His eyes are fierce, sparkling defiance as his face turns paler. “I’m not done yet. But I can’t keep up, Dave,” he grunts, his voice hoarse with frustration and regret. “I’ll cover you from here. Go. Get Pete for me.”
His words hit me like a punch to the face, driving home the reality. We’re down one fighter, one shield between Pete and the nightmare Igor has created. But Ray’s giving us a shot I can’t waste.
“Tommy, cover Ray!” I snap, glancing at my brother, who’s already moving into position, his gun spitting fire at the shadows ahead. The tension ratchets up, every second stretching like an eternity as we fight to push forward. We’re down one key ally, and the realization hits me hard. Pete is defenseless. Vulnerable. My pulse spikes, anger burning hot in my veins as I force myself to focus, to adapt.
“Dave, I’ve got eyes on Alexia,” Nikolai’s voice crackles through the earpiece. I can hear his breath catch.”She’s moving, slipping past the guards as she goes. She’s heading straight toward the kids. Damn it, she’s moving too fast, not watching her back.” His usual calm is fraying at the edges, his voice tight. “She’s going to get herself killed if she keeps this up.” Anxiety breaks through his tone and digs into me like a thorn. Even Nikolai’s on edge.
Pride and terror twist in my gut. I should’ve known she’d fight back. That she wouldn’t sit still, not with Rose’s life at stake. But Nikolai’s right—she’s playing with fire, and one wrong move could mean the end. I can’t let that happen.
“Keep her on my screen,” I grit out, shifting my stance, my gun steady in my hands. “And give me a clear path to her.”
“Working on it,” Nikolai mutters, his voice strained.
I hear him typing as he maneuvers through Igor’s system. Every second that ticks by feels like a lifetime, the urgency clawing at me, driving me forward.
We push through, switching tactics on the fly, using smoke bombs to cover our movements, dodging in and out of the shadows. It’s brutal, a high-stakes game of cat and mouse where every slip or hesitation could be fatal. But each step forward is one closer to Alexia. To Rose. The pounding of my heart matches the rhythm of my boots on the concrete floor.
As we near the final stretch, Nikolai’s voice filters through, tense but steady. “Dave, you’re almost there. Just…be careful. Igor’s got the place rigged. He’s ready for you.”
The words hit me like a punch, but I swallow the fear, shoving it down. Everything I’ve fought for—this is where it all matters. I grip the handle of my gun tighter, glancing back at Shelby, who’s watching me through the smeared lens of his glasses with the same determination.
“This ends tonight,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else, but Shelby nods, a fierce glint in his eye. He knows what’s at stake.
As we approach the last turn, I catch a glimpse of her on the security feed Nikolai’s patched through to my tablet. Alexia—fierce, defiant, moving with a purpose that makes my heart clench. I can’t see in her eyes clearly, but I bet my darkened soul there’s fire in them, a raw determination that matches my own. She’s fighting for our daughter. For herself. For us. And I’ll be damned if I let Igor take that away.
I grit my teeth, pressing forward, every sense attuned to the danger lurking around the corner.
The mission has never been just a mission.
This has always been personal.
And Igor’s about to learn exactly what that means.
Just a few more yards.
Then, I’ll finally be face-to-face with the man who tried to destroy everything I love.
T he air is heavy, laced with the metallic bite of gunpowder. Dust hangs like a low cloud, stirred by every footstep as we push forward. We’ve broken through the last line of defense, left Igor’s men sprawled out behind us, but I know this is far from over.
Shadows flicker along the walls, adding an eerie, almost sinister edge to the place. The compound seems to breathe around us, waiting. Every step echoes, reminding us that there’s no turning back.
Nikolai’s voice breaks through the static in my earpiece, his tone is low and tense. “Dave, Alexia’s on the move again. She’s climbed the stairs and landed on the floor where Igor is.”
My heart lurches, and my fingers curl tighter around the edges of the tablet. “Show me,” I order. Alexia’s image comes to life on the small screen. She’s risking herself to save the kids. I grunt, “Nik, I know she’s capable but she can’t face Igor on her own.” I don’t tell him that her scars have marked more than only her body. Igor has wounded Alexia’s soul. And now he’s threatening her daughter. No, our daughter. He’s underestimated her resilience; something I would never do. But, no matter how defiant she is, this is a totally different ball game. As I watch her advancing, I tell Nikolai, “Alexia’s heading straight into the monster’s lair.”
“Damn, she’s resourceful, Dave. You should’ve seen her, what she can do with a spoon.” There’s an unmistakable note of pride in Nikolai’s voice, but it is mixed with unease. After a pause, he adds, “If she reaches Igor before we do, she might not walk out of there, my friend.”
“And we both know she’ll face him, no matter what it costs her,” I groan. My gut twists. On the screen, I can see that every move she makes is calculated and precise. My grip on the gun tightens as I push forward, my voice a low growl through the earpiece. “Keep an eye on her, Nik. I’m closing in.”
Fear gnaws at the edges of my mind, but I shove it down. This is about saving her. Saving them. Alexia’s fighting for Rose, for Pete, for a future without the shadow of Igor looming over her. And I won’t let her face him alone.
Pull your shit together , I tell myself. Yes, their fate is in your hands. But you’re used to responsibilities and duties. You’ve got this.
A bottomless pit opens up in my stomach, the gap threatening to swallow my world. For the first time in my life, I’m leading my men into battle for something other than power or money. I’m doing this to save the people I love. And this makes all the difference.
My heart pounds faster and harder with every step forward, every inch closer. A pang of regret sharpens within me as I think of Rose—my daughter. The years I missed with her, moments I’ll never get back. Igor stole too much from us already, ripped away my chance to see her first smile, her first steps. I can’t change the past, but I’ll be damned if I let him steal any more of her future from me. The thought hardens me.
Suddenly, a scream tears through the silence, echoing down the corridor, sharp and chilling. It feels like a knife driving into my chest, visceral. I don’t know if it’s Alexia or someone else, but it doesn’t matter. I press forward, holding my weapon at the ready, swallowing down the surge of panic clawing at my throat. Time is slipping away, every second pushing them closer to danger.
“Nik, what’s going on?” I struggle to say.
“Hold on, Dave,” he replies, his voice steady. “You’re just a couple of rooms away from where Igor is. He’s got both kids with him. Alexia is closing in as well.”
I grit my teeth as his words settle over me like a sheet of lead, weighing me down. Igor’s always been one step ahead, manipulating, twisting, like the predator he is.
I round the last corner and see a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. A faint glow of light is spilling out. I move closer, pressing myself against the wall, peering through the narrow glass panel. Igor himself is in the middle of the room, standing tall and menacing, his scarred face twisted into a sick sneer. His onyx-like eyes are empty, soulless. They are the eyes of a man who’s broken too many people and rejoiced in watching them suffer.
He’s holding a gun, the barrel pressed to Alexia’s head, his fingers wrapped tight around the grip. Even now, her stance is defiant, her jaw is set tight, and her gaze is locked onto him with a fierceness that takes my breath away. She’s bruised, a dark mark blooming across her cheekbone, but her spirit remains unbroken.
In the corner, I spot Rose and Pete, huddled together, their small bodies trembling, eyes wide with fear. Rose clutches Pete’s arm, her lips quivering, her gaze darting between Igor and her mother. The sight of the kids like that—so helpless and terrified—sends a new wave of rage through me, white-hot and all-consuming.
My gaze locks onto Alexia through the glass. As if sensing me, she lifts her eyes to focus on my face. For a brief moment, everything else fades away, and it’s just the two of us, a silent promise passing between us. In her expression, I see a flicker of fear, yes, but also fierce, unyielding love. She gives me the smallest nod, a barely perceptible signal, and it’s all the confirmation I need. She’s ready.
“Nik,” I grunt as quietly as I can manage. “A distraction. Now.”
There’s no hesitation. “On five, Dave.”
His voice counts down in my ear, the numbers like a drumbeat against the silence. “Five… four… three… two… one…”
An explosion rocks the stronghold, the walls shuddering as dust and debris rain down from above. Igor stumbles, his grip on the gun faltering, and in that split second, I press closer, every muscle coiled, every nerve screaming for me to move.
I signal my brothers, each of them moving into position like shadows against the walls, readying themselves for what’s coming. Shelby and Tommy flank the door, weapons raised and eyes sharp, every nerve coiled in anticipation. We’ve fought through hell to get here, and now it’s all down to this last move. The final push. Each of us knows what’s at stake—and none of us are leaving without our family.
Just as I lift my gun, about to burst in, a voice cuts through the air—cold, calm, and dripping with malice.
“Don’t be shy. Come on in, Dave.” Igor’s voice slithers through the concrete hall. His tone is dark, mocking. “But I warn you, take one wrong step, and you’ll never see your precious Alexia again.” Igor’s threat is as sharp and chilling as the barrel he’s pressing against her temple.
I stare at the door, my hand hovering over the handle, every instinct screaming for me to break through, to end this. But his words echo in my mind, a taunt, a warning.
With a sharp inhale, I push the handle down, kicking the door and slamming it against the wall.
This ends now.