Chapter 16
GABE
I’ve done hard things in my life. I learned to kill, to steal, to run a business. I made myself tough. I cut out the pieces of me that cared and loved, all for a greater purpose. All to become the Dragon.
But I didn’t slice deep enough, because there’s still something of the old Gabriel hidden deep in my heart. I saw him briefly last night when Nika was in my arms.
And now, getting out of bed before dawn, leaving her still asleep, I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything so difficult before.
All I want is her body, her mouth, her breasts and moans. I want her like a sickness. I want her like the medicine that’ll fix all the shit that’s been broken in me. All the shit I broke.
But I have work to do.
I can’t lay around in bed with my virgin wife all day.
Even if that’s what I want.
Daniel meets me in the parking lot with coffees. “How was your night?” he asks, and for a beat I think he knows what me and Nika did. But what’s it matter if he does? Like fucking my wife is somehow shameful? “Hear any rats?”
“Even the rats know better than to fuck with my sleep.”
He laughs and we walk to a truck parked at the edge of the lot. “Honestly, I was surprised when you wanted to stay in this place. My cousin says it doesn’t get much traffic though.”
“It’s a good spot. I appreciate you suggesting it.”
“The wife doesn’t mind?”
“It was her idea.”
He nods, his smile fading. “She’s probably not used to all that fancy shit you like.”
“She’ll get there.” We pause at the end of the truck bed and look out at the Otel Eaven.
I drink the cheap, hot coffee, and there’s still a piece of me in the room with Nika.
I wish I could shake that feeling like there’s a tether around my chest, but my thoughts keep straying to her. Tugged back to where they belong.
“The soundstage isn’t far from here. About twenty minutes north.”
“How’s the security?”
“About what you’d expect from Aslan. Drones, electronics, shit like that.” He pauses and takes a drink, staring across the lot. “Shouldn’t be a problem though.”
“We fucked up once and underestimated him. We can’t do it a second time.”
“Whole crew in the area’s going on this hit. But I think you should know—“ He cuts his eyes to me, his smile gone. “Marat’s there too.”
I tighten my grip on my coffee, nearly spilling it. “I thought that fucker survived. He should be bleeding in a goddamn ditch right now.”
“We’ll take him too.”
“I want him. I owe the bastard.”
“He’s all you then.” Daniel pats the side of the truck. “Ready when you are.”
I gaze back at the room where my wife is still asleep.
I’m about to ride into fire, but I’m thinking about her lips wrapped around my cock, about her moans, about her body arching into mine.
And about the soft, embarrassed, self-conscious way she acted after, like she was afraid she did something wrong.
When in reality, she was so good it fucked me up.
“Let’s get moving.”
An hour drive north of Hollywood on the 14.
The city spreads out until there’s more scrub and canyon than buildings.
The caravan splits when we’re a few minutes away and half my crew circles around toward the back of the property.
I’m behind the wheel of a truck with Daniel by my side.
Three more vehicles are behind us, all filled with our best soldiers, men vicious, violent, and unscrupulous.
“They built this place in the late 90s,” Daniel says as we approach a chain link fence. The road is gravel and dirt. The truck bumps and kicks up stones as I pull off the main thoroughfare and begin skirting the edge. “Went bankrupt around 2008. Been in legal limbo ever since.”
“You did a lot of research on a building.”
“Wanted to make sure we weren’t stumbling into a trap.”
“We’re probably still doing that.”
He shrugs with a faint smile as I pull over the truck. “Probably,” he agrees. “But what’s the other option?”
“We need Aslan.” I take in the structure.
It’s not glamorous. The place looks like an old warehouse: big metal walls, huge metal roof, lots of little trees and brush growing around the edges.
Vines snake their way up to shattered windows.
There are a couple outbuildings, crumbling now.
They were probably production offices once.
I get out of the truck and load up from the back.
Body armor, tactical gear, rifle. The men around me begin to do the same.
No reason to be subtle about it. Aslan’s likely got the entire place wired up with cameras and infrared devices.
He probably knows when a mouse takes a shit within a quarter mile.
We’re not hitting him with surprise. We gave that up when we burned down that building.
Now I’m going with overwhelming-fucking-force.
“Job’s simple,” I tell the gathered, hardened killers.
Twelve of them in total, plus two more squads of twelve surrounding the place.
“We go in. We find Aslan. We kill him and anyone who gets in the way. If his people put down their weapons and offer to join our crew, we’ll take them as prisoners.
Otherwise, kill, loot, take what you want, do what you need to do.
We get through this richer and one more step to true power. ”
I know my audience. These men aren’t here because they believe in some ethical crusade. They’re not believers.
These men want money, power, and strength. They want rewards. And I’m going to provide.
Daniel leads the vanguard. They cut a hole in the fence. I keep waiting for sniper fire to rain down from the roof and the high windows, but there’s nothing. It’s quiet, even on the other side of the building. Team2 and Team3 both radio in and announce they’re having no problem.
I’m not happy about it as we jog to the building, angling for one of several different side entrances. “Why the fuck’s it so quiet?” I say, scanning the approach, waiting for an explosion or a drone to come swooping down.
“Are you complaining?” Daniel doesn’t look happy either though. He’s tense and unsure of himself as we reach the door.
“No, but you know Aslan. There should be—“ I gesture around us. “Traps. Fucking electric wires. Landmines. Something. Not…”
I trail off into the quiet.
Daniel's jaw sets hard. “Your call?”
I consider our position. We can breach the building, but what if we’re wrong? What if it’s empty? At worst, we’ll have wasted our time.
But what if it’s not?
And what’s waiting inside is the real problem…
I gesture for him to move. “I’ll go in first.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
I hold his gaze. A part of me wants to listen. The part of me that wants to get back to Nika alive.
But fuck that. I can’t show fear and I won’t show weakness. The men around me will happily pounce the second they sense I’m not strong enough to give them what they want.
“Breach it. I’m in first.”
Daniel relents. Silently, he steps back, places several small explosive charges, and counts them down. “Three—Two—“
The door bursts inward. It rips off its hinges. Two identical explosions go off somewhere on the other side of the structure as Team2 and Team3 both break their way inside.
I rush forward into an abandoned supply room.
Racks are knocked over. Cardboard boxes are moldering.
Film canisters were thrown around at some point, the reels left like black intestines on the ground.
This must’ve been where they stored their junk back in the day but nobody ever came to get the equipment.
There are ancient cameras shoved in a corner, half broken, pieces of glass scattered everywhere.
And straight ahead, blood is splattered on the wall.
My men file in after me. I gesture for them to clear the room, but there’s nothing. I creep forward to the gore and stop. A man’s body is bullet-riddled, his form slumped face-down against the wall, like he was running from something. I kick him over with the toe of my boot.
Turkish guy. Young, thick beard. Shot from behind.
“The fuck is this?” Daniel says under his breath, standing beside me.
“A problem.”
I push forward. All my alarm bells are screaming, but there’s no alternative.
I have to get Aslan, but clearly something went very wrong here.
I shouldn’t charge forward into a problem I don’t know anything about, but calling this off would be equally bad.
With no good options, I grip my gun and walk at a steady clip.
“Team2, call in,” I whisper over the radio comms.
“This is Team2,” their squad captain replies. “We found blood… some bodies in the lobby area… looks like there was a firefight here recently.”
“Team3 checking in. Shit’s bad in the back too. Definitely something went wrong. What’s the call, boss?”
I reach the end of the hall. The door has a glass window, but it’s splattered with blood. I push it open, the hinges making a horribly loud creak, and I look out into the massive, main soundstage.
Death is everywhere. Men in suits, men in battle gear. The walls are riddled with bullets and scorched by fire. It stinks like death and burning. I take in the wreckage, heart hammering in my chest. What the fuck happened here? Someone beat me to it? Was it Artyom, taking his opportunity?
I almost don’t notice movement at the far end of the room. There’s an old set here built to look like a kitchen and two men are rooting around in it. One’s smoking, the other’s drinking, and they’re both laughing about something…
And speaking Russian.
I watch them, gesturing for quiet. They haven’t noticed me yet. I squint in the dim light, listening closely. I know those voices…
Daniel gets close behind me. “Those are Marat’s men,” he says, voice low and rage-filled.
The scene clicks into place.
Anger flares in my chest. I grimly raise my rifle and open the comms so all my men will hear. “No survivors,” I say calmly. “Anyone you find, kill them. I want them all dead.”