Chapter 29

Emma

Three days after Viktor came back to tell me of Igor’s death, we were on a private plane headed from Los Angeles to Port-Au-Prince. I was already missing Nick, who was staying with Darcy back home. I hadn’t wanted to say goodbye, but Viktor had already warned me that Haiti was no place for a young boy, no matter how we worked to avoid exposing him to what we were doing. I’d been worried about leaving him with my friend, but Viktor assured me that the threat had gone, he’d rooted out the spy in his organization and at least for the time being, we were safe from any Bratva retaliation. Our only threat right now, was my uncle.

Viktor stuck close to me for much of the time, protective as ever, and seeming to notice how troubled I was. As we neared Haitian airspace, he came and sat next to me, taking my hand in his.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

I looked up at him, then shook my head. “I- I know this has to happen. The man’s caused us both nothing but misery, and he’s threatening mine and Nick’s lives. The fact that I have to reconcile that this man and the Uncle Charles who raised me are the same person is… well, that will take a while. But it won’t make me hesitate.” Not after listening to his former security head casually talk about being sent to murder Nick as well.

No. That right there, more than anything, even more than losing my parents, was why my uncle had to die.

“Good. Now, there are going to be a lot of bribes paid out, and a few threats handed out as well, to grease the wheels once we touch down. Especially when it comes to my bringing over a dozen armed men here.”

I looked back into the seats of the small airplane, half of them were full of stone-faced men who would have terrified me just a few weeks ago. I was not frightened of them now. They knew who I was with, and they had been nothing but polite to me. “I understand,” I said quietly.

He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “I love you,” he said gently, shocking me with his matter-of-factness. “When all of this is over, I want to talk to you about a future together. But until then, I need you to hang on, follow my lead, and try not to panic no matter how violent things get.”

“I love you too,” I said, feeling a tenderness toward him that made my heart ache. But then I glanced back at the others, and said with a wry little smile, “But I’m scared I’ll boil alive in that body armor you want to stuff me into.”

He chuckled. “You could always stay in a nice, air-conditioned hotel room,” he suggested gently. I knew that was what he wanted—me safe, preferably back home. But he cared too much about my needs to try to push the issue.

I lifted my chin. “No. I have to face him. You’ve been clear about the risks. I’ll deal with the sweat and the weight.” And the violence. Because this wasn’t going to be a mere confrontation. It was going to be a siege.

“Very well. Then no more complaints about the body armor, my darling, or the men I’ll have watching your back. Charles wants you dead—and though he won’t expect you to show up with a small army, he’ll probably order his men to attack you the moment he gets over his shock.”

I scowled. “He can try. But I didn’t come here to die.”

He gave me a smile. “You trust me then?”

My scowl faded. “Always.”

The co-pilot emerged from the cockpit and inclined his head slightly as he addressed us. “We’ve gotten clearance to land.”

“All right. Here we go.”

The night air was thick with humidity, smoke, and pollution from the nearby city as we stepped off the plane. An SUV and two vans, all three with smoked windows, were waiting for us. I struggled to keep focused as we headed for the limo, but my stomach was in knots.

The driver was local. Viktor slipped him a thick envelope and he tore it open, spilling out several thick bundles of cash. He sat there thumbing through it for a maddeningly long time, then nodded and pulled out his phone. He called someone and spoke to them in Kreyol briefly, then waved his hand out the window. The limousine started up and left the airfield with the vans trailing after it.

Viktor helped me into my body armor and strapped my pistol on. Its weight was unfamiliar on my hip. We’d practiced together more than once, but I knew it was still a last resort for me. I was not going to be storming the gates. Viktor had professionals for that.

Viktor didn’t ask me again if I was sure. He didn’t tell me it was my last chance to go wait it out somewhere safe. Instead, he just spoke orders into his throat mic in Russian as we drove away from the airstrip.

On the way there, I caught a glimpse of the tent city Viktor had talked about through the SUV window. My eyes widened and I craned my neck to look as long as I could, and then shuddered. Those poor people. At least Viktor spreading some bribes around will help some of the locals. As will getting rid of Uncle Charles.

I decided right then and there that when we left this place, we wouldn’t bring anything with us unless Viktor deemed it was necessary. Not one scrap of food, not one tradeable item, not the property itself. Once we were done, we would leave it open for anyone who wanted to come in. Haiti didn’t need the burden of our ownership, any more than it needed an interloper like my uncle around. It had its own problems.

“What are you thinking about?” Viktor asked, having turned his attention back to me while I was staring at the tent city.

“We don’t belong here. Any more than my uncle does. I think we should just leave the place once we’re done here.”

“It’s a multi-million-dollar property he’s probably stuffed with all sorts of luxuries.”

“I know. But we have plenty of that at home. If your men like something, they can take it, and I’m taking back any pets. But there are people starving on his doorstep.”

He considered me for a few moments as we made our way up the forested hillside. “Fine,” he said finally. “Done. Though I want to take any computers and paperwork as well.”

I nodded. That made sense. Nothing that could trace back to us. Anything that could lead us to any more money that he’d squirreled away.

Haiti could have its land back, and everything Uncle Charles had put on it. But everything else he owned was mine. Mine and Viktor’s.

The vans split off from us as we drew near the high-walled compound, which gleamed in the moonlight like a glacier amid the black trees. Every window glowed. I could see guard towers, like the place was a prison.

Viktor saw them too. I heard him giving orders and didn’t understand a word of it. I guessed I’d better study up on my Russian if we we’re making this a permanent thing.

Even in the midst of all this insanity, that thought made me happy. But before we could act on it, I had to get through this night.

***

Viktor had the driver get out and leave well before we got near the gates. Apparently, he hadn’t signed up to drive us through a firefight.

Viktor got into the driver’s seat but told me flatly to stay in back. “I do not trust the quality of this thing’s armored glass, not against rifle bullets. We will hang back until they are softened up and the gates are open.”

I nodded, in no hurry to drive into a free-fire zone.

Soon, the compound erupted into gunfire on all sides. I heard the thuds of small explosions, the crash of tiles and windows breaking, and even a few screams. I shuddered, the full horror of it washing through me, even as I struggled against it.

You knew it would be like this.But knowing in my head and experiencing it were two very different things. The fight in the penthouse had been over in two shots. But this?

War. This was war, and you knew it would be war.

But I couldn’t stop shaking.

Suddenly, in the middle of barking orders, Viktor reached back and captured one of my hands, squeezing it gently and reassuringly. He looked at me, and said, “The first time is always the worst, Emma. We are winning. Trust in my command of my men.”

I nodded, and did, and sat there breathing deep and fighting my fear until it was time and he drove the SUV forward toward the gates. “They have captured the towers and the guardroom. We have yet to penetrate the house.”

The gates rattled open, sounding damaged. I could see bodies lying beyond it, mostly in the lighter uniforms of my uncle’s men. Some were still moving. One of Viktor’s men rescued a comrade and carried him out past us.

“Hold on.” Viktor drove right up to the front door, knocking aside a remaining guard who was firing in another direction. I looked away before the man landed, knowing he had to be dead.

We skidded to a stop, and he jumped out, kicking the door open. I followed, staying behind him as he’d instructed but keeping my gun drawn. He had brought a pair of pistols, each almost as long as my forearm, and had one out as we walked inside.

I heard glass breaking and screams in another room. More gunfire sounded near the rear of the house. This is what you signed up for, I reminded myself again.

Room by room, we searched the place. Viktor’s men were fighting the last of the guards—once or twice we came across their handiwork. Blood spatter, bullet holes, more uniformed bodies on the floor. Had they known going in what kind of enemies they would be facing to protect my fool of an uncle?

I doubted it.

It took over an hour to search every room in the sprawling mansion, but by the time we were done Viktor was seething with frustration. “Where the hell is he?” he demanded over the mic and ordered another search. No one had escaped. All of my uncle’s vehicles had been disabled. Every exit was watched.

He was here somewhere. Hiding.

We stood in his master bedroom, which was ridiculous in its luxury, air conditioners humming away constantly, keeping it almost chilly. The bed was rumpled. Drawers and the closet door torn open. His nightshirt on the floor. The attack had clearly thrown him into a panic. But where was he hiding?

Wait.

I looked around, and then noticed how all the clothes on one side of the walk-in closet were shoved aside. I walked in and looked—and saw it. A low steel door with a keypad mounted beside it.

“It’s a panic room,” I said quietly. “He’s in there.”

Viktor came in and looked, and nodded slowly. “How do we get in?”

I considered. I had PINs to several of my uncle’s accounts and his electronic safe at the penthouse back home. He always used one of the same three, every time. I tried them, one by one.

The second one worked. The door lock clunked, and the door swung open. I heard frantic shuffling inside.

Viktor and I looked at each other. “I’m going in first,” he said.

“I’m backing you up.”

***

The panic room was more like a panic apartment, there were paintings on the walls, music on the stereo. We emerged into an ordinary, if windowless living room. Viktor waved me back as he checked every room, corner, and closet. Then, I heard him laugh.

I hurried around the corner and saw him standing just past the doorway into the place’s single bedroom, where my uncle was standing in rumpled clothes, hair askew and eyes full of fear. He and Viktor had guns on each other.

I raised mine and pointed it at him even as he recognized who I was. “Emma?” he asked incredulously.

“Surprise,” I snapped, my heart pounding in my ears. “Bet you thought I was dead. You gave the order after all.”

“Emma, I- I have no idea what you’re talking about. What has this criminal been telling you? Have you been brainwashed?”

I let out a hollow laugh. “No, I just got shown a lot of evidence that you’ve been lying to me this whole time. That you had my parents killed. That you tried to have me and Nick killed.”

“That’s all lies! I would never—”

“Cut the bullshit, Charles,” I snapped, and his jaw dropped. “It’s not going to work anymore,” I informed him.

And just like that, his face changed. The fear didn’t leave, but the pleading, the false warmth, every trace of the man I’d thought he was, vanished.

“I can shoot one of you before the other one shoots me,” he threatened in a harder voice.

“You might. But your glasses are back on your nightstand in your bedroom.” Where did all this power come from? Where had my fear gone? All I could feel now was anger and disgust. “Odds of you actually hitting anything before we kill you aren’t good.”

He paled a few more shades. “What do you want?”

“I want to know why,” I demanded.

“Why, what?” He could barely look at either of us. His eyes kept slipping from Viktor, to me, and then away again quickly, like we were lights too bright for him to focus on.

“Why are you the kind of man who can have your own relatives killed for the sake of money, and then turn around and take in their children? Why did you trust me with so much, and then turn around and try to have me killed? I know all you really care about is money, so what was it? Why pretend you cared? Why pretend to treat us like actual family?”

He huffed out his breath through his nose, his aim at Viktor wavering. Viktor meanwhile stood like a stone, pointing his big semiautomatic unwaveringly at him.

“You were kids,” he said, as if that was self-explanatory.

“So is Nick, you damn hypocrite,” I replied. “But I guess you ran out of guilt by the time he came along.”

“Don’t you think you have the right to judge me, you little slut, you’re just as bad as your sister getting knocked up by that Russian bastard. He should have kept his mouth shut and not tried to meddle—” he snapped suddenly, reddening.

“What?” I exclaimed.

“So, that’s it,” Viktor said in a cold tone. “That’s what got Leon killed. Not long before he was murdered, he was doing a job for Igor, and he must have discovered the hush money you were sending him. Tell me how it happened, he was threatening to expose you to your niece, am I right?”

My uncle gave a bitter laugh. “He was a lovesick fool, he could have taken the money I was offering and become a rich man, but instead he spouted sanctimonious crap about honor and family. He had to die.”

“And Igor was more than happy to be your assassin again?” Viktor snarled.

“I thought I might have to get him to deal with that slut too, but luckily once she gave birth to the bastard, her own demons took care of that loose end.” Uncle Charles shrugged, he was still pointing his gun at Viktor, but I could see the tremor in his hand.

“Watch your mouth,” Viktor replied coldly. “You’ll live longer.”

But my uncle had no restraint left. “I should have had you killed too, back when you and your sister were kids. I’ll fix that mistake now—”

He didn’t have the chance to swing his aim toward me before two gunshots went off. The jolt went up my arm and I realized that one of them had come from me.

My uncle stared at us for a few moments before he dropped his pistol and his hand drifted to the widening bloodstains on his shirt. Then his knees hit the floor, the rest of the color draining from his face.

“Your mistake was making enemies you couldn’t afford,” I told him gravely.

His eyes rolled closed, and he fell facedown onto the floor with a deadweight thud. I heard his last wheezes, and then silence.

Horror and triumph mixed in me. I put my safety on and holstered the gun, suddenly exhausted.

Viktor slipped an arm around me and drew me away from the body. I turned and leaned into his shoulder, and we held each other.

“It’s done,” he reassured me hoarsely. “You’re free of him. Your parents are avenged, and so is my brother.”