Chapter 50

Victor

THE REDdot shines on the map, a beacon of hope and despair all at once. That’s where my wife and hopefully Eli are being held captive by that mudak Ivan.

I stare at the tiny, pulsing light, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ache. It’s a cruel twist of fate that the necklace I had repaired for Laura, the one I slipped a tracking device into on a whim, would be the thing to lead me to her now.

Sometimes things just happen for the right reason, I think bitterly. But fuck, I never wanted this to be the reason.

“They’re in the middle of fucking nowhere,” Misha mutters, leaning over my shoulder to study the map. “At least two hours outside the city, in some podunk town nobody’s ever heard of.”

I nod, my eyes never leaving the red dot. “Ivan’s not stupid. He knows better than to keep them too close to home.”

Ksenia stands beside me, her face an unreadable mask. But I can see the tension in her shoulders, the white-knuckled grip she has on the edge of the table.

“Dimitry screwed himself over, got what he deserved,” she says, her voice cold and hard as steel. “We’ll need to bring Eli home now.”

I drag my eyes away from the fucking red dot to glare at Ksenia. “We’re bringing Laura back too; she’s moya zhena. My wife,” I spit the words out through gritted teeth.

Papa sits silently in his leather chair, puffing on a cigar, the smoke curling around his head like a halo. He hasn’t said a goddamn word since we got the news about Eli’s kidnapping. Dr. Petrov stands beside him, looking like a completely different man than the kindly doctor I know. He’s decked out in a black tactical suit, a large knife strapped to his thigh. I remember seeing old photos of him like this back in his days with Spetsnaz. The look in his eyes is cold and merciless.

Ksenia rolls her eyes slightly at my insistence on rescuing Laura, but she nods curtly. “Da, she’s semya now. Family.”

I turn to Yuri, who’s been sitting in the corner, pale and shaking. The poor kid just lost his father, and now his sister’s been snatched.

“Derzhis’, stay strong,” I tell him gruffly. “We’ll get her back, obeshchayu. I promise.”

Misha clears his throat. “Boss, so what’s the plan? We can’t just go in guns blazing. Blyad, Ivan will have that place locked down tighter than a nun’s pizda.”

“I’m working on it,” I growl, my mind racing. Every second we waste is another second Laura and Eli are in that suka’s clutches. “Ari, what do we know about the location? Any satellite imagery of the area?”

Ari taps furiously on his laptop. “Got it. Looks like an old, abandoned factory surrounded by woods. Only one road in or out.”

“Pizdets,” Igor swears under his breath. “We’ll be sitting ducks if we try to approach by vehicle.”

I study the grainy satellite image, my gut twisting with dread and fury. Somewhere in that crumbling hellhole, my wife and Eli are being held.

The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. I realize I’ve bitten my cheek raw. But the pain is nothing, nichto, compared to the thought of what Laura and Eli must be going through.

Hang on, lyubov moya. I’m coming for you; I swear it on my life.

Papa’s serious gaze locks onto me and Ksenia. “Vitya, Ksenia,” he says gravely, puffing out a stream of cigar smoke. “I should’ve told you this sooner. Dimitry, that svoloch, he’d been working with Ivan for a while. I only started to suspect something was off during the dinner with Laura the other day. So I had some of our boys tail him, see what he was up to. Turns out the mudak had planted spyware all over the damn house. If I’d known it would come to this, I never would’ve left for the winery…”

Ksenia’s jaw clenches at the mention of Dimitry’s betrayal, but she stays silent. I know why—she doesn’t want to dwell on that traitorous bastard any longer than necessary.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to say. “Papa, there’s something else you need to know. Laura… she’s pregnant.”

The room goes deathly still, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I can feel Misha, Igor, and Ari’s eyes boring into me, their shock tangible. Papa’s eyes widen, and for a moment, I swear I see the glimmer of unshed tears.

Doc sighs heavily, placing a hand on Papa’s shoulder. “I’m going with them, Andrey,” he says firmly. “We’ll bring them back, vse budet khorosho. It’ll be alright.”

But even as he says the words, I can see the tension in his face, the grim set of his mouth. We all know the stakes, the danger we’re up against. Ivan Vasiliev is a ruthless, sadistic ubl yudok. There’s no telling what he might do to Laura and Eli.

My hands form fists, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood.

I’ll kill him,I vow silently. I’ll rip him apart with my bare hands if he’s touched one hair on their heads.

“We need to move fast,” I say, my voice low and harsh. “Every minute we waste is another minute they’re in that pidaras’ clutches. Ari, keep digging into that location. See if you can find any weak points, entry ways we can exploit. Misha, Igor—gear up. Full tactical, heavy weapons. We’re going in hard and fast, no mercy.”

I turn to Ksenia, my eyes locking with hers. “You’re with me, sestra. We’re going to bring our family home, whatever it takes.”

She nods, a cold fire burning in her eyes. “Konechno, brother. Ivan picked the wrong clan to fuck with. He’ll regret the day he was born by the time we’re through with him.”

“I want to come with you,” Yurisays. “I want to help rescue Eli. I’m the man of the house now; it’s my job to protect her.”

I feel a surge of pride and affection for my nephew, for his bravery and loyalty. But I also feel a stab of fear, cold and sharp in my gut.

He’s just a boy,I think desperately. He’s too young, too innocent for this world, for the things I’ll have to do…

“No, Yuri,” I say firmly, stepping back from Ksenia to squat down in front of him. “You gotta stay put, look after Deduska.” I jerk my head toward Papa, giving him a quick nod to drive the point home.

Yuri’s scowl deepens, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “But I want to help,” he insists, his voice cracking. “I want to be brave, like you and Mama.”

My heart clenches, a lump rising in my throat.

“You are brave,” I tell him, gripping his shoulders. “The bravest kid I know. But part of being brave is knowing when to stay and fight and when to protect the ones who need you most.”

I white-knuckle the steering wheel as I navigate the pothole-ridden road. “Misha, you in position?”

The tires crunch over gravel and debris as I steer the SUV down the narrow, dimly lit road. A few decrepit lamp posts flicker feebly, their light barely penetrating the oppressive darkness. The whole area reeks of decay and despair, like a fucking dumping ground for the Vasiliev clan’s sins and victims.

Static crackles in my earpiece before Misha’s hoarse voice comes through. “Locked and loaded, boss. Ready to ventilate some Vasiliev scum.”

“Good. Ksenia?”

“On route to the drop point,” she replies, cold as the Siberian winter. “Ivan’s going to regret the day he fucked with our family.”

As I speed toward the glowing red dot on the GPS, my mind races with the plan we’ve hastily put together. Ksenia and her crew are heading to the address Vasiliev provided, ready to rain hell down on that svoloch if he tries to pull any shit. But they’re just the distraction—the real action is here, with me, Misha, and Doc, racing to get to Eli and Laura before those pidarasy can hurt them any further.

“Let’s get this over and done with,” I sneer.

“Just waiting to see that mudak Ivan and burst his fucking head open,” Misha replies, his tone sharp as a razor.

“You and me both, brat,” I mutter, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

Laura, Eli — derzhites’, we’re coming for you! Wait for me.

“Doc, you’re on standby. If any of us catch a bullet, you better be ready to patch us up.”

“Always am,” he says, calm as ever. “Just try not to get shot, Vitya. I’m running low on sutures.”

“Blyad. No promises.”

The decrepit warehouse looms ahead, silhouetted against the night sky. Flickering floodlights illuminate the crumbling brick and rusted metal, a piss-poor attempt at security.

I kill the headlights and slow to a crawl. “I count six guards on the perimeter,” I mutter. “Heavily armed.”

“Child’s play,” Misha scoffs. “I’ve taken shits more intimidating than these clowns.”

“Stay focused,” Doc warns. “Ivan’s a crafty mudak. Expect the unexpected.”

I park behind a dumpster overflowing with rancid garbage. The stench turns my stomach, but it’s the perfect cover. “Doc, you’re up. Buy us time to slip in the back. And make some fucking noise, will you?”