Worthless
Yuri shoved me out of the way, drew his gun, and pressed the barrel against Vladimir’s forehead. Without a trace of fear, regret, or remorse in his expression, Yuri unlocked the safety and prepared to end his brother’s life.
“Pull the trigger, you fucking traitor.” Even with a gun to his head and a pack of his enemies surrounding him, my husband believed he was the most powerful man in the room.
“Give the order, Maks. I’ve been waiting for this day since he betrayed me in Ekaterinburg.”
Maksim leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, confident he had finally gotten the better of my husband. “Time’s up, Vladimir. I wish you could hang around and watch me take credit for all your hard work on Project K, but now that my work is on the verge of completion, Moscow is on their way to London and should arrive momentarily. Once I deliver the goods, I will rise to the top, and your contribution will be nothing but a memory. I’ll be a hero for breaking the code and for delivering your fresh, disgraceful body as an added bonus.”
Vladimir scoffed at Maksim’s overconfident bravado. “You fucking mudak. You haven’t figured it out yet? I infected the hard drive with a virus. The information I gave you didn’t give you access, it degraded the entire system. And as an added bonus, I put your name all over it—and the fingerprints of our superiors up the Bratva chain of command. Your incompetence implicated Moscow in a string of cybercrimes across the globe. You are a complete fuck up, Maks. When Moscow arrives, they’ll dump both of our bodies in the Thames.”
Maksim leaned forward and held his hand up to Yuri, halting him from pulling the trigger. “Nice try, Vlad. I know you’re lying. I’m already in. The information is being downloaded—”
Maksim’s cellphone rang. He lifted it out of his jacket, checked the screen, and tapped the phone. “Da…You’re sure it was a virus?…The entire system is corrupt?” Maksim’s eyes widened. He glared at Vladimir with a level of hatred I had never witnessed before. “You are going to pay for your crimes against the Bratva. Pull the trigger, Yuri. Blow his fucking head off!”
Yuri glanced at his watch. Sweat beads cropped up on his upper lip and the veins on the side of his head were protruding.
“Do it!” Maksim shouted. “Kill the traitor!”
When Yuri hesitated, disapproving murmurs from the Ovechkin crew filled the room. They were hungry for Vladimir’s flesh, but Yuri wasn’t delivering the fresh meat. In my heart, I knew that whatever anger and resentment had infiltrated their relationship, there was no way Yuri could hold a grudge so deep that he would take his brother’s life. The crew began chastising him, berating him for not following orders, and I feared Yuri would face the wrath of Maksim if he failed to pull the trigger.
“Having second thoughts, eh? You know failure to follow my orders is an act of treason,” Maksim said. “Whose side are you on, Yuri? Are you an Ovechkin or an Ivanov?”
Yuri lifted his chin proudly. “My loyalty will always be with—” Yuri’s watch chimed, and as if on cue, all the lights went out in the warehouse. The room fell dark, and I couldn’t see a thing. Shocked by the blackout, the crew mumbled in confusion, and then a big hand clutched my arm and dragged me through the ropes. I heard the shuffling of feet and gunfire blasting in the direction where Maksim was sitting.
Shouting erupted as Yuri guided me away from the chaos. As I padded along in my bare feet, a hand clutched my free arm. I yelped and tried to shake free.
“Quiet, angel. It’s me.”
“Vladimir, thank God. Where’s Dmitri?”
“He’s behind me. If anything happens to us, stay with Yuri and don’t turn back.”
“You had this planned all along?”
“You believed my brother would allow my execution?”
“You weren’t really trying to murder Dmitri in the ring?”
“Remember when we practiced our fighting skills at the dacha? You were convinced Dmitri and I were going to kill each other.”
“Right, but it was only an act,” I said.
“Dmitri is indestructible. He’s not hurt.”
“Okay, Carter,” Dmitri said.
“Quiet or you’ll get us all killed,” Yuri chided as he maneuvered us through the warehouse with a dizzying sense of urgency. The building was pitch black, but Yuri was hustling toward a narrow sliver of light from a window just ahead.
The crew seemed stuck in a state of chaos, and we had the element of surprise to our advantage. The light was getting closer and closer, and if Boris was ready in a getaway vehicle, we had an opportunity to escape.
Instead of heading straight for the nearest exit, we followed Yuri down the metal stairway that led to the makeshift prison in the underbelly of the warehouse. It would be impossible to simply tiptoe out the loading dock exit and breeze past the machine gun-toting soldiers who were guarding the exit points, so I surmised there had to be a secret exit somewhere in the building. Not a shred of light penetrated the darkness. Yuri had either memorized the path or he had a pair of night vision goggles. Either way, he had undoubtedly planned our escape.
“Don’t move an inch,” Yuri whispered. He let go of my arm, and a metal door screeched open. A rush of light flooded in from a small doorway along the backside of the wall. I was relieved to see the faces of my family along with a wide-open escape route that would lead us to safety. “Hide in the stairwell until you hear the signal to run,” Yuri said. “I will create a diversion upstairs that will give you a split second to make your exit. No matter what you see or what you hear, stay with Dmitri and don’t look back. Boris will arrive at the pickup spot in precisely three minutes.”
I shook my head in confusion. “What about you, Yuri? Aren’t you coming with us?”
“There are armed guards around the perimeter,” Vladimir said. “We have to distract them to give you time to escape.”
“We? You guys are going together?”
Yuri turned his attention to Dmitri. He pointed to a row of dumpsters lined up in front of a chain link fence topped with razor wire. “I cut a small opening in the fence you can squeeze through. Follow the length of the building and turn right when you reach the railroad tracks. Boris will be waiting for you a quarter mile down the road.”
“Da,” Dmitri said.
As I rambled off a list of questions, Yuri pulled out a black bag that had been stashed behind the door and riffled through a stash of weapons and military gear. Whatever diversion tactics the guys had planned, it didn’t seem the odds of surviving after the attack were in their favor. Yuri set down his weapon, strapped a bullet-proof vest across my chest, and tossed a pair of loafers at my feet for me to slip on.
“Spasibo, Yuri. I never doubted your loyalty, not even for a minute. You must know Katia’s accident wasn’t your fault. Please, come back to the family.”
Yuri’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything.
“I owe my life to you for saving my wife and child, Yuri.” Vladimir snatched Yuri’s weapon off the table. “I’ll handle it from here. Go with Carter and Dmitri. Boris is expecting you too. The arrangements have already been made.”
“Nyet. You can’t handle this alone. Without my help, you’ll never make it out alive.”
“Go with my wife. That’s an order.” Vladimir was in the pakhan zone and exuded the strength and confidence of a commanding general.
I’d seen my husband in his element before, and not even my overbearing father-in-law could refuse an order from him while he was in extreme boss-mode.
As Vladimir backed away from us with a grenade in one hand and a semi-automatic weapon in the other, he gave his parting orders. “Carter is right. Katia’s accident wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry I didn’t defend you. Go home and reunite with the family. They’re expecting you too.”
Yuri exhaled, and his hard, angry eyes softened as relief washed over his face. By receiving Vladimir’s apology and his blessing to return home, Yuri finally found the peace he desperately needed. He had been carrying around the burden of guilt, anger, and resentment since he left the family, and I could practically see the weight lifting from his shoulders now that the feud was over. Yuri nodded, acknowledging his brother’s orders.
Vladimir shifted his gaze to Dmitri. “Never leave Carter’s side. I’m trusting you with her life.”
“Okay, boss.” Dmitri’s eyes glistened and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat.
“Take care of our family, Carter. I love you, angel.” I didn’t like the finality of Vladimir’s parting words, but I melted in his arms, and he kissed me passionately as if it were our last goodbye. I held on to his warm body, never wanting to let him go, but a round of gunfire blasted above and ended our tender moment. Maksim’s men were breaking down the door that lead to the underbelly where we were hiding. Yuri snatched the weapon from Vladimir and demanded to go with him, chastising him in Russian about his bullheaded personality.
Vladimir conceded and gave Yuri the nod to take care of the problem that was about to bust down the door and storm our war room. Then, my husband picked up my hands and gazed into my eyes. “Time to go, angel. I love you.” He crouched down and hugged me around the waist. “I love you too, son.”
“His name is George.” I clutched Vladimir’s pendant. I hadn’t taken them off since he’d given them to me.
He kissed my baby bump and told George to stay strong and be good for Mama.
“Please, let’s all leave together. We can use the metal door as a shield and all run out at the same time—”
“I am not leaving London until I rip Maksim’s heart out of his chest. Plus, now that Moscow is on the way, I’ll have them to deal with too.”
“Here. You need these more than I do.” I took off his necklaces and placed them around his neck. “Fight for us, Vladimir. Never give up.”
The Ovechkin crew crashed down the door, and a moment later, the backup generator revved up, and the lights came back on. A trio of armed men clambered down the stairs, but Yuri ambushed them before they made it to the bottom.
Footsteps thundered above and echoes of men yelling that they had located us in the basement bounced off the walls. It was too dangerous to forge ahead with Plan A now that they knew where we were hiding, so Yuri led us through a back hallway to escape through a second exit point on the other side of the warehouse.
The four of us hugged the wall and hustled along a crumbling pathway lined with rusty pipes in the lower level of the warehouse. My arms were throbbing and swollen from my bout with Valentina. I was certain my opponent had broken a couple of my bones, but I pushed away the pain and focused on escaping from that hellhole.
Yuri led us through a narrow tunnel and motioned to an ancient dumbwaiter with a manual rope and pulley system. “Get in,” Yuri ordered as he loaded us into the freight elevator. “This will take you to the kitchen that connects to the formal dining area where Maksim hosts his gambling guests. There is a fire escape covered in ivy outside the window on the south side of the room. I’ll hold back the men from following you upstairs. When you hear an explosion, that’s your cue to run.”
Yuri insisted we go on without him, and Vladimir argued we should stay together. The two of them bickered back and forth, but Vladimir eventually relented when Yuri reminded him that the window of opportunity to get me to safety was quickly closing. Vladimir conceded and handed over his weapons for Yuri to use against the enemy, but ordered him to meet us at the pickup location.
“Don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up with you in America.” Yuri closed the door and tugged on the rope, lifting our rickety escape hatch into the kitchen above.
America? When Vladimir had said we were going home, I assumed he meant Canada or a remote area in Russia. Where no one knew us. Where we could start a new life with the girls and George. Reuniting with my family in America seemed an impossible dream.
Without weapons, we had to take our chances with the element of surprise. Dmitri went first and cleared the room. Once he gave us the all-clear signal, we followed him into an upscale dining room decorated with fresh floral arrangements, tables set with fine china atop crisp white tablecloths, and an English-style pub with a dozen or so beer taps and glass shelves lined with bottles of Pimm’s and top-shelf liquors.
A massive crystal chandelier loomed above our heads and warmed the room with a soft golden glow. The sun was going down and the last bit of the day’s light spilled in from the window and bounced off the sparkling crystals, casting rainbow-colored shadows across the ceiling and pale yellow walls.
Maksim’s secret gambler’s paradise reminded me of the private club Vladimir owned in Ekaterinburg. I assumed it was commonplace to house an illegal playground in obscure locations to entertain the billionaire clientele that supported the underground gambling, prostitution, and boxing business that earned a fortune for the Bratva.
The window that led to the fire escape was across the room. Dmitri ran ahead, peeked outside, and scanned the perimeter. It appeared to be clear, but it was too soon to make a run for it. Yuri was still in the basement buying time and hadn’t yet set off the explosion that would serve as our diversion.
“There’s no time to wait. I’ll go first to be certain it’s safe.” Vladimir slid open the window. “If I don’t make it, wait for Yuri and find another way out.”
Dmitri clutched Vladimir’s forearm and held him back. “Nyet. Too dangerous, boss. I’ll go first.” Without waiting for Vladimir to nix his plan, Dmitri crept out the window and jumped to the ground. Then he pulled the fire escape ladder down to the muddy earth below.
So far, so good. You got this, Dmitri.
He sprinted for the line of dumpsters where Yuri had cut the metal fence to give us an opening to slip through. Just when I thought he had made it undetected, a rapid round of gunfire followed him. I screamed in terror, and Vladimir covered my mouth to silence me. I sighed in relief when I spotted Dmitri sprinting toward the safety of a cement forest of flat storage facilities that would provide cover on his way to the railroad tracks. Someone had to get to Boris in order to reset the escape plan. While I was grateful Dmitri was safe, it was impossible for Vladimir and me to follow the same path without getting riddled with bullet holes. We had to come up with a plan B—fast.
Vladimir wrapped his arm around me protectively, and as he led me toward an open archway on the other side of the room, an explosion rocked the building and knocked us to the ground. The force of the blast must have come from the rooftop. The ceiling crumbled and the humongous chandelier dropped down and was hanging by only a few electrical wires above our heads. Vladimir lifted me back to my feet and led me out of harm’s way before the massive fixture broke free and crushed us.
As we rushed toward the archway, a bullet whizzed past our heads. Vladimir shielded me with his body and steered me back toward the kitchen. A round of gunfire chased us, and Vladimir knocked over one of the fancy tables, turned it on its side, and yanked me down to use the heavy, wooden surface as a shield.
“Enough of your bullshit, Maksim. You want me? Here I am.” Vladimir raised his hands and stalked toward his enemy. “Be a man, and honor our deal. Let my wife go, and put a bullet in my brain to cover up for your incompetence. Blame everything on me. Save yourself. I’ll give you what you need to finish the project. Moscow will keep you alive to protect themselves.”
Relief washed over me when I realized Maksim still needed Vladimir to save his own skin. Maksim only had the illusion of power, and without Vladimir’s tech savvy brain, he was worthless. I glanced in the mirror behind the pub. Maksim’s gun was aimed between Vladimir’s eyes. Maksim glanced sideways and met my gaze.
“Come out, sweet pea. No use hiding.”
“Stay put. You don’t take orders from him.”
Maksim cocked his eye and took aim at the table I was hiding behind and fired his weapon. The bullet shot clean through the table, leaving a gaping hole and the odor of burned wood in its wake. I dove flat on the ground and covered my head. I couldn’t see what was happening, but I heard the guys fighting. I crawled commando-style on the hardwood floor to get out of the line of fire and bunkered down behind the mahogany bar. I peeked out from the hiding place to assess the situation. Vladimir was on his knees, dazed, with a gash on his forehead and a broken chair beside him. He was blinking rapidly, trying to recover from a blow to the head.
Maksim loomed over my husband and unsheathed the knife his uncle used to murder Vladimir’s mother. The light from the chandelier, still hanging off kilter and swaying recklessly above our heads, bounced off the blade and cut across Maksim’s face. His forehead was sweaty, and he seemed nervous, considering he was the one aiming a lethal weapon at my husband. “I’m afraid you know my weakness, Vladimir. Moscow has run out of patience. The Bratva will arrive at any moment. Tell me how to infiltrate and complete Project K, and I’ll let you live. I’ll give my men the order to stand down and allow you and Mrs. Ivanov to escape before our comrades arrive. Don’t let your pride send you to the grave, Vlad. My goodwill offer expires in three seconds. One…”
Vladimir shook off his stupor and focused his piercing blue eyes on Maksim. We finally had a way out of the mess that had become our lives, and I couldn’t fathom why he wouldn’t give Maksim what he wanted.
“Two…”
“You’re a coward and a liar. You’ll never let us out of here alive. My only satisfaction will be knowing that Moscow will return the favor to you for exposing our secrets to the world.”
I crept out from behind the bar, with my hands raised, and sidestepped cautiously toward Vladimir. “Please, tell him what he wants to know. I believe Maksim is a man of his word. This is our only chance. If not for me, then do it for George.” I lowered my hands and touched my stomach, hoping to sway my stubborn husband into relenting this one time.