The World in Reverse (30 page)

He knew one thing and one thing only.  He could not under any circumstances let anyone up the stairs. 

The sound of the bullets impacting into the walls from every direction was deafening.  Taking another glance out, he lowered his body and shot again, this time, hitting the man behind the one that he had just killed in the leg.  The man fell but returned fire again, this time sending a bullet that barely missed Nicola by only centimeters.

Hiding behind the mangled wall for a se
cond, he took a breath and then stuck his body halfway out of the room to send another round into the man’s chest as he tried to stand. 

Suddenly, a large glass bottle with a dirty rag was launched from downstairs up to the door, exploding with fire.  It quickly fed on the paint, burning the walls and entryway. 

Nicola dove out of the door and into the path of fire toward the other side of the hallway to keep a view of the stairwell.  Returning another couple of shots, he felt the heat of the flames as they grew.

Another man determined to fix the mistake of his departed, advanced up the stairs past the dead bodies shooting as cover, but Nicola stood up with the bullets whizzing past him only half covered by the balcony low wall and made one good shot that sent the man diving back down the stairs to safety. 

Panic started to rip through Nicola at the thought of running out of bullets before every man in there was dead.  In his head, he counted his shots.  He had to protect his family.  He was the only thing that stood between them and death. 

Adrenaline coursed through his veins.  Heart pumping, mouth dry, he crouched back down behind the balcony wall as bullets and fire surrounded him in death. 

“Please God,” Nicola said aloud, praying as he returned fire again.  “Help me.”  All he could think of was the five people hidden down the hall who were depending on him.  Nothing else mattered. 

Boris pulled up quickly to the front door in the BMW, shredding the immaculate lawn under the tread of his tires. With his hand on the trigger of his weapon, he popped out of the car, leaving the door open.  It sounded like a full-on war inside, just his type of party.  Gu
nfire rang out in rapid bursts from at least three different directions.  He could also hear Nicola returning fire from the top of the stairwell on the second floor with an distinctively loud cannon of a weapon.  He guessed it to be a Desert Eagle.   

All the men were now inside and completely oblivious to the fact that Nicola had re-enforcements.  Without bothering to look behind them, they fired up the stairwell at Nicola as black smoke started to billow out of the front door and filled the house.  It gave Boris perfect cover and distracted the men inside.

Making sure not to get in full view of the open door, he quickly mapped out their locations inside of the house.  One was in the living room, using the door entry as cover.  One was in the dining room doing the same.  Each was on opposite sides of the foyer.  In between shooting, they also launched more handmade firebombs up the stairs. It was only a matter of time before the smoke and fire consumed the upstairs and his goal of getting Agosto out safely. He had to move quickly.

When he was certain that he wouldn’t get Agosto or his family in the crosshairs, Boris stepped back a few feet from the porch light, cocked his weapon and unloaded without prejudice.  Before he could drop one magazine on the ground and slide in another, Marat was already beside him, shooting at the house. 

The quiet night had suddenly been interrupted.  From a far neighbors, afraid for their lives watched on from their windows while they waited for the police as Marat and Boris emptied round after explosive round into the house. 

The bullets were so powerful until they knocked off chunks of brick from the exterior of the house, went through windows and pierced straight through several walls, furniture, and paintings inside of the house all while lighting up the night’s sky. 

Shells hit the ground by their feet as they advanced.

Both Marat and Boris had extensive exper
ience in professional hits.  In synchronization with their powerful weapons, they strategically covered every inch of the front of the house.  Large bullet holes covered the entire first floor.  Glass shards hung from the busted windows.  The piano in the parlor leaned over on the floor missing two legs.  The furniture was blown to bits.  Glass vases with flowers lay cracked on the rugs, family photos were destroyed and the distinctive smell of gas came from the kitchen. 

And among all the rubble as they advanced inside of the house flanking each other and clearing the area, they found the two men riddled with bullets. 

Laying in bloody pools full of bullet holes, Cane’s men never knew what hit them.  Marat stepped over one of them, kicking away his guns as he examined the body.
The boss didn’t like leaving witnesses.
  Stepping back to prevent getting splatter on his clothes, he shot the dead man in the head again, just to make sure. 

“That was easy,” he said, nodding across the foyer at Boris.  He didn’t see why it took three of them to kill two amateur hitters.  And it looked like from the bodies lining the staircase that Agosto was capable of handling himself. 

“Da, that’s the thing about these Southern American boys,” Marat said, walking into the room with him after he had done the same thing to the man on the other side of the house. “They’re all soft…like…girls,” he chuckled as he looked at the mess that Boris had made. 

While Boris and Marat were securing the front of the house, Nestor had driven the Land Rover straight through the back gate and pulled up to the back of the house.  Getting out of the truck, he was met by a huge dog barking and trying to bite him.

He pointed the gun but thought twice.  He was a serious dog lover and if his boss, Anatoly, found out that he had shot a dog in the midst of the battle, he might just shoot him.  He would have done better to accidently shoot one of the people he was in charge of saving. 

Shooting over the dog’s head, he scared him off, shot the doorknob off the back of the house and entered carefully.  The thick fog smelled of smoke greeted him.  Bullets from Dmitry’s powerful guns had found their way all the way to the mudroom and blew out some of the windows in the sunroom. 

As he turned the corner to check the bathroom, he found Sammy inside the shower taking cover. 

“Don’t fucking move,” Nestor said with a grin.  He motioned for his new captor to step towards him.  “Slow,” he ordered in a low voice.  “Who is with you?”

“No one,” Sammy said, more frustrated than afraid. He raised his hands and dropped his gun, knowing that he was completely outnumbered. 

“If you’re lying to me, I’ll make your death very painful,” Nestor promised.

“I’m not lying. No one is with me,” Sammy repeated.

Boris and Marat continued checking each room in the back and came to the restroom where  Nestor was holding Sammy. 

“We’ve got to get to the cop and get him out of here now,” Marat said, hitting his watch. “I’m surprised the pigs aren’t already here, considering he’s one of their own.”

Pushing Sammy in front of them, they hea
ded back toward the stairwell.  Nicola had already gone to get his family.  Running as fast as he could, he screamed for Ivy. “Baby,” he said, hearing his children crying.

“In here!” Ivy screamed back.  Her heart lifted when she heard her husband’s voice.  Wiping tears, she stood up out of the corner. 

As he opened the door, Ivy put down the gun and ran towards him.  Never before had she seen a better sight.  Hugging him tightly, she cried. “Are we safe?” she asked, reaching for her children.

Nicola picked up his youngest two boys and Ivy held Adamo and Madison’s small hands.  “I don’t know,” he answered.  “We’ve got to go.  This place is going to go up in smoke.”

As he turned around, he saw Boris enter the room with his gun.  Nicola knew that he was out of bullets and it was too late to grab the weapon that Ivy had set down.  His heart constricted in fear for his family. 

Before Nicola could say a word, Boris put up a hand.  “The boss sent us,” he said, sucking his teeth. He looked at the large family in confusion. 
Why was this man so important to the Medlov organization?
 

Nicola’s shoulders relaxed.  Tension eased out and the reality set in that Dmitry Medlov had actually saved his life.  “I need you to help me get them out,” he said, looking over at Ivy, who was totally confused.

“Who are these men?” Ivy asked Nicola.

Nicola didn’t respond.  An explanation at this point would take too long.  Shaking his head, he walked towards the door with his family in tow. Clutching his children, he no
dded towards Boris.  “Thank you,” he said quietly.  

“Thank my boss,” Boris said flatly. 

Pulling the comforter off the bed, Boris passed it to Ivy.  He could sense her fear, see her visible trembling.  “Cover up.  We have to go now.” There was a slight warmness in his voice, though he tried to cover it as quickly as the words left his lips. 

27

Ivy held her sleeping children tight as she rode silently in the back of the mysterious Russian man’s Land Rover.  All four of her boys had been so frightened during the fire fight until they passed out as soon as they got inside the SUV. 
But were they safe?
Even she couldn’t really answer that question. Looking down at them pooled around her, all fighting for a piece of her lap to lay their small heads on, she felt incredibly helpless. 

             
Her poor babies.
  

             
She was certain that they’d be scarred for life by the shoot-out. And then there was the fire. The sight of her dream home going up in flames as they drove off made her feel nauseated again.  Wiping tears, she tried not to recall each memory made in her home.  Every laugh.  Every smile.  Every birth.  Every celebration.  They were all gone.  Nicola had urged her not to look back as he carried her and the children to the truck, to forget it all.  But how could anyone forget what she had just been through? Then another thought hit her, one adding a little more clarity to the situation.  At least, everyone was still alive. 
That Carmen girl was dead now simply because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
 

             
Unsure of where she was going or who she was even with, she trusted her husband only to protect them.  It was clear that she could not after huddling in a corner in the dark frightened out of her mind for what felt like hours.

             
Nicola had warned her. 

             
No matter how she tried to oppress the thought, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all her fault, if breaking her silence had caused the attack.   However, asking outright for an answer, she knew would give her no closure.  Nicola would never tell her even if her suspicions were correct.  He wasn’t that cruel.  

Riding behind him now, she kept her eyes on her husband. 
Nicola said nothing the entire drive.  He sat in the passenger seat, looking out of the window in deep thought and occasionally looking back to check on them. She was only sane right now because he was.  He didn’t seem to be afraid at all by everything that happened. 

Maybe you are in your element
, she thought. 
Maybe there is another side of you that I just don’t know
.  After all, he had called her naive, but naive to what? 

The drive to their disclosed destination was short to her surprise.  They pulled up to a huge mansion fortified by a bricked gate.  Only the high peaks of the roof could be seen from the street and that was only because of the powerful lights strategically placed all over the lawn. 

Guards were at the doors of the gate, carrying weapons like soldiers in front of an embassy.  They looked inside and under the truck, flashing their lights, brandishing their intimidating weapons.  She grabbed her children tighter to protect them. 
Where were they?  Who had sent for them?

Boris spoke in Russian to the guard nearest the window then was allowed to pass through the entry.  As the iron gate creaked opened, she saw the massive three-story house in full view.  It looked out of place, like it didn’t belong in Memphis.

The Land Rover pulled up the wide circular drive past the mansion and parked in the multi-care side garage.  Turning off the SUV, Boris sent a text and waited for an answer.  When he received a reply, he stepped out of the truck and motioned for Nicola to follow. 

“Where are we?” she asked Nicola before he could get out.   

“Safe,” Nicola promised, getting out of the truck also.  He opened the back door for her and picked up two of his sons out of her lap.  They barely stirred, but even in their sleep, they whimpered.  Clinging to their father, they nestled into his large muscular arms and fell back asleep.   

Boris opened the other back door and picked up the other two children.  Instinctively, Ivy reached out to stop him, but Nicola grabbed her.  “Hey, it will be alright,” he assured, ru
bbing her arm.  “Come on, let’s get you inside.”  He would have picked her up too, if he could have managed to carry all three of them. He had never seen his wife so afraid in her entire life, and the thought that he had not adequately protected them bothered him more than she could have known. 

Ivy wanted to ask a million questions, but she knew that now was not the time.  Pulling herself out of the truck, she followed her hu
sband and Boris to a side door of the mansion.

             
Another blond guard opened the door and stepped to the side.  This one was not wearing black fatigues.  Instead, he wore a pair of slacks and a golf shirt.    However, he did have guns holstered and visible and like the other men, he was big, tattooed and brooding.  Eyeing Ivy and Nicola as they passed, the man pressed his earpiece with his finger and spoke in Russian to someone else, someone watching them. 

             
Ivy stayed close to her husband, wondering what he had gotten them involved in now.  She could only think of one person who had this much money and was Russian in Memphis, and he was no law enforcement officer. 

             
Her husband had spent nearly the whole of his career chasing Dmitry Medlov, and if she was now at his home, then she was also now lost in what her husband really did for a living.

             
Without a word and quite swiftly to be carrying two small children, Boris led the Agosto family through the palatial mansion, past rooms of people socializing, past artwork and sculptures that Ivy couldn’t help but admire, past rooms that were decorated with such detail until she could barely take it all in in one glance, past crystal chandeliers and Persian rugs and elaborate bouquets and decadent luxury furniture to the east wing of the house.

             
When they came to a back row of marble stairs that led up to another long hallway, Boris stopped abruptly.  “Is she alright to make it?” he asked Nicola while looking at Ivy.  He could see the loss of color in her face, like at any minute she would be sick. 

             
Nicola turned to Ivy.  “Are you alright?”  He wouldn’t answer for her.  She had been through so much, until she might have very well been sick now.

             
Ivy held on to the wooden banister.  “I’ll be fine,” she said, ready to get wherever he was taking them.

             
The walked seemed longer to get up the staircase to the long hallway with limestone flooring and 20-foot, arched ceilings, then it did to get across the length of the mansion.  Ivy realized when she got to the top why Boris had asked.  Out of breath and shaking, she kept her composure but prayed to God for a place to sit soon.  Even Nicola and Boris seemed a little out of breath with the children in their arms.  They had moved quickly but carefully not to wake them, a thing that Ivy knew would have been impossible for her to do. 

             
Midway of the elaborate hallway, Boris opened a door that led into a very large, very well-decorated bedroom with plush egg-shell white walls and matching carpet, a fireplace rumbling low, a towering king-sized sleigh bed, a 60-inch television mounted to the wall, a large wooden desk in the far corner and fine rugs and linen.  In the corner was a gigantic flower arrangement of vibrant pink and white roses and above the bed was a painting so beautiful of the Mississippi River that she had to stop and gawk at it.  The room smelled of fresh linen and jasmine and felt like a mid-summer’s night dream.  It took her out of her current hysteria and instantly soothed her. 

             
Boris walked what Ivy thought was the closet and opened the door, which led into a smaller bedroom.  It was far less elaborate but still extremely nice.  Two twin-sized beds fit inside it with a small television and nightstands. 

             
“Boss says for you to stay here tonight.  The children can sleep in this smaller room,” he said, laying both children in his arms on the bed carefully.  They curled up together under the sheets already pulled out by the maid staff.  He admired them for a minute without intending to and then turned back as he caught himself.  “There is no outside door to this room.  The only way in is through your bedroom, so they are safe.” He pointed around the room so that they could see for themselves.  He yawned in exhaustion and watched as Nicola laid Madison and Adamo in the other bed.   

             
“Thank you,” Ivy said quietly, “for saving our lives.”  She could barely look at the man.  He made her uncomfortable with his rough, gravelly voice and menacing stare. Yet, something told her that he meant well. 

             
Boris didn’t like the attention any more than Ivy liked giving it.  He blinked hard involuntarily.  “You’re welcome…
I guess
.”  He glanced over at Agosto and quickly changed the subject.  “Food will be sent up.  The boss will call on you when he’s ready.  Right now, he has things to do. My suggestion would be to get some rest.  There is a bathroom connected to the larger bedroom.  You’re basically in this wing by yourselves.  But a word of caution.  You are not allowed to use the phones, internet…nothing.  As a guest of Boss Medlov’s home, I’m sure you can follow these rules, not make trouble, da?”             

             
Nicola answered by offering his hand.  “Thanks.  Tell Dmitry that I appreciate it.  We’ll adhere to his wishes.”

             
Boris shook Nicola’s hand, but pulled away quickly. That was the first time that he’d ever touched a cop without killing him.  It felt strange.  This all did.  Their boss never sent them on jobs like this, where people actually lived.  

             
“Well,” he said in a huff, “I’ll leave you to your privacy now.”  Walking to the door, he opened it and paused.  “Don’t forget.  No phones.”

             
“No phones,” Ivy said, feeling as though Boris needed to hear her say it as well. 

             
Nodding, he closed the door and left them alone.

             
As soon as Ivy was certain that no one would interrupt them, she went back to look at the children in the adjoining room.  Leaning against the doorway, she shook her head. “Nicola, tell me what’s going on?” her voice was as wispy as feather.  She didn’t have the strength to argue, but she hoped that it wouldn't take that to get the truth.

             
Nicola walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.  He was so happy to still have his family, so blessed.  Kissing her shoulder, he pulled her long wavy hair behind her ear and whispered.  “I’m doing what I have to do.”

             
She struggled to turn around in his arms.  Looking up into his eyes, she asked seriously, “What does that mean, Nicola?”

             
“Just what I said.”  His expression was terse.  He held her shoulders.  “I know you.  You want to ask questions, you want answers.  And you deserve them.  But this is just one of those times that you’re going to have to trust me.”

             
“I do trust you,” she said sincerely.  “I’m sorry that I didn’t before. I feel like this is all my fault.  If I had just…”

             
Nicola frowned as he interrupted. “This is not your fault.  Is that what you thought?”

             
“Well, yeah.  The interview must have alerted the people looking for you,” Ivy said, wiping tears. 

             
Nicola held her tight, despite the odor coming from both of them of smoke and soot. “Baby, what happened tonight would have happened whether you did or did not do that interview.  Listen to me. None of this is your fault.  But I promise you this; I’m going to fix it.  You will never worry about your safety or the children’s safety again.  And the people responsible for this are going to pay.”

             
“Nicky, I don’t want you to put yourself in anymore danger.  It was different when I thought that you were just going to be solving a case, but people are trying to kill you.”

             
“You know, when those guys came barreling into the house, I wasn’t worried about dying, but I was scared as hell of the thought of not protecting you and my kids.  A man’s job,
his most important purpose in this life
, is to protect his family from all hurt, harm and danger.  He ceases to exist as a man if he can’t or won’t do that.  Me going after these people is not just about revenge, it’s about my duty.  It’s about my purpose.”

             
How could Ivy argue with him?  Tucking her head into his chest, she closed her eyes.  “Just remember that not only do you have a family to protect but also to raise.  So, you had better come back to me.”

             
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, rocking her slowly.  “Hey, let me run you a bath.  You stink.”

             
She couldn’t help but laugh.  “Yeah, well you do too.”

             
“We might as well take advantage of the Boss’s amenities, right?”  He walked to the bathroom and opened the door.  “Wow, get a load of this place.  The tub in here is big enough for three people.”  He walked inside and turned on the light to illuminate yet another decade, luxurious room.