Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4) (47 page)

He met that navy stare across the demolished foyer. In Alek’s eyes, there was no better man. Back his focus went to Sergei. He cataloged the new position. Yana’s new position. The position of the men flanking them who Alek was pretty sure wouldn’t help Sergei now for any reason.

“Alek.”

He glanced to his uncle when he heard his name then came back to his task. The boys had to get Vasily out of there. They had to take him down to Yuri. Then he wanted his best fucking friends to take his wife and child out of there. It didn’t matter that he and Sacha had never exchanged vows, she belonged to him just as he belonged to her. Life partners. And his best fucking friends were right fucking idiots to have shown up here instead of staying with their women. Man, he loved them.

Honing his attention, he saw how much closer he was now that he’d stumbled forward during the shooting. He was less than ten feet away and could clearly see how tightly the grenade was taped to Yana’s face. And, halle-fucking-luiah, the spoon was pressed into her skin. That meant the pin could be pulled and who the fuck cared? If that spoon remained down, they could sit here all afternoon, and the thing wouldn’t blow. But if Sergei even plucked at the tape and released that spoon…

Alek got all of this in seconds. “So this is your end game, Sergei?” He let the blade he’d tucked up his sleeve slide down until it tickled his palm. “To stand around and gloat? To spew your shit and try to get a reaction out of us as you twist the knife?” He leaned forward so he was on the tip of his toes. “To string this out so you can feel important for a little longer?”

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare,” he heard Maks whisper behind him.

“Jesus H.,” Anton added under his breath.

“You’re in it to inflict as much pain as you can before this is over. Do I have that right, Sergei?” He let the contempt he was feeling drip from his words.

“Yes, I am. It feels good to know someone gets this.” His cousin sounded as if they were talking over a beer. “Sacha is in the house somewhere, is she not? She must be. Is she carrying another Tarasov yet? That stupid woman should have given me the opportunity to help her. And your beautiful little girl would have been better off succumbing to the effects of the poison Reynard supplied than to have the roof collapse on her as it is going to do in a matter of minutes.”

Alek sprung forward and was startled for only a moment by two bodies falling from the sky outside the opening. Micha and Jak took down the Baikovs with little effort while Alek smashed his fist into Sergei’s shocked face.

The motherfucker pulled the pin.
And
yanked on the tape, because Sergei knew that spoon needed to be released.

As fast as was humanly possible, Alek sliced through the tape and ripped the grenade off. “Duck!” He threw it past Micha and Jak with all his might then fell on Yana to do what he could to protect her.

The explosion was close enough to blow out every intact window in the vicinity, including the ones on the cars that were in the driveway. The almighty boom that came with it closed up Alek’s ears again, and this time, left a muffled flutter hammering through them. He then watched as if in slow motion Sergei sit halfway up with his gun pointed straight at Alek’s face. A shout came from the side and then a dark shape was flying through the air in front of him.

Sergei took the shot.

Vasily took the bullet.

Seeing his uncle land hard on what was once the front door, Alek thundered a denial. In the chest. Vasily had taken the bullet in the chest! With no Kevlar.

A red haze flipped over his vision, and Alek lost his mind.

He and Sergei scrambled to their feet at the same time, and they came together in a flurry of quick, coordinated movements. Knuckles connected, skin split, elbows and kicks were thrown, and through it all, the little hole in his uncle’s neatly pressed dress shirt that he was wearing in mourning for Markus remained front and center in Alek’s mind. He heard Quan’s calm voice in the back of his mind, the one the Asian used when they were sparing in the gym at home.
Find a weakness, and go for it. Everyone has one. If it’s not physical, start talking. Bring them to their knees verbally. It can always be done.

After landing a particularly hard kick to Sergei’s ribs, Alek found his center. “Tell me how…” He ducked then danced away from a swinging left that would have had him seeing stars. “No, G!” he snapped at Gabriel when his friend appeared behind Sergei, gun in hand.

Alek focused again and connected a right just as Sergei’s lower leg slammed into his hip. He hissed through the pain. “How would you look your son…in the eye…if he was in front of you now?”

Sergei tripped as he backed up. “My boy isn’t in front of me!” he screamed. “Never again! Your daughter should be with him!”

“Maks,” Alek called back. “Angelina. Now!” He sprung at his cousin and took him down to the ground. It took a long minute of giving and receiving pain, but he eventually got the fucker in a submission hold Gabriel had taught him so Alek would have a chance against Maksim when they fucked around.

Steel on steel rang in his ear and then the hilt of Maksim’s prized machete was being held out. “You bought the poison Reynard used on my child? Paid for it with money our family helped you make? You took that money from your pocket and handed it over in exchange for a little bottle with Chinese writing on the side?”

Sergei attempted to spit, but he couldn’t move his head around Alek’s hold without snapping his own neck.

“Straighten his right arm,” he instructed Maks.

Maks yanked on the arm, dislocating it, Alek was sure. No one wasted time checking before Alek brought the sharp blade down as if he was swinging a hatchet. At the same time, he released the tight cinch that was making Sergei’s face turn blue so that his cousin could freely scream through the pain of having his arm taken off at the shoulder.

“Hold the other, Maks. Which is your trigger finger, Sergei? Which was it you just used on a man you should have respected with every breath you took? Which did you use to shoot another innocent man in my place?” he shouted. “Markus wasn’t a part of this life, you vindictive fuck! You should never have gone after him because you couldn’t get to me!”

“Don’t be so fucking arrogant,” his cousin laughed, his words slurring. “I did not kill him in your place. I killed him to start a war. If I had wanted you dead, you would be dead.”

Alek gripped the machete with both hands and was about to raise it when a loud rumble sounded all around them. In under three seconds, the place was full of men in unmarked swat gear. There had to have been twenty of them, all dressed in solid black, all with MP5s now trained on every single person in attendance, including Yuri, who was now ten feet away from Vasily and looking more concerned than Alek had ever seen him.

“Anyone moves; you
will
be shot,” a deep voice boomed.

No one moved.

Except the two men who walked through the new entrance. Sorin came into view first with Lucian Fane walking a couple of feet behind him. The bodyguard yanked Alek off Sergei and shoved him between two gun-wielding team members.

Lucian, who was also dressed in black, reached down to drag Sergei to his feet. Cupping the back of his head, the Romanian poised a long, curved blade beneath Sergei’s chin.

“Finally. You have come out from under your rock.” He kicked Sergei’s arm away from their feet. “But it will not be your cousin who has the pleasure of killing you. It won’t be your uncle, either. My brother, who you took for nothing, was not only innocent, he was
mine
. He was
mine
, and you stole him. So, now, I will steal you.”

Lucian brought the blade down and plunged it into the soft spot under Sergei’s collarbone. The tip escaped through an exit wound, effectively acting as a hook. Alek didn’t blink in case he missed one second of the gruesome sight. Because if his uncle didn’t make it through this, he would forever relive the moment Sergei went limp and fell. Using his make-shift hanger, Lucian didn’t spare anyone a glance as he dragged Sergei back out the way he’d just walked in. Sorin followed, and it wasn’t until they heard a helicopter take off that weapons were lowered. The large crew followed their boss out.

Alek didn’t wait to hear the other choppers that would explain the flutters he’d heard after the grenade had gone off. He tripped over shit to join the boys gathering on the floor around his uncle. His knees instantly felt warm as his pants soaked up the blood.

“Jesus Christ, Vasya. What the fuck did you do?” he rasped in Russian.

Micha, panting from a sprint, roughly elbowed his way between Maks and Gabriel. He dropped the large black medical bag Yuri kept in the trunk of the Maybach.

“It was closer than running to the infirmary for supplies,” he snapped when Yuri looked up.

Without a word, the MD got down to it by ripping Vasily’s shirt open. Buttons popped, and blood splashed. Rough curses came from all around at the sight of two round holes showing amid the history inked into the Pakhan’s skin. Micha began handing things to Yuri.

“Son—” Vasily coughed, and Alek clasped his hand. The squeeze that was returned was alarmingly weak. Weaker than Alek had ever experienced from this man. “If this happens—” Another cough and a choked denial from Maks came. “Know each of you was a gift to me.”

“Vasya,” Alek whispered, horrified to see the acceptance in his uncle’s eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. Not you, too.” He received another squeeze.

Vasily’s eyes went to Gabriel “Where is Eva?”

Gabriel did nothing to hide the fear he was feeling. “With Caleb and the boys. She’s on her way. You’ll see her as soon as Yuri does his magic. Don’t you fucking do this,” he ground out. “You fight like a fucker. For her. Because she needs you more than you know. We all do.”

Throats were cleared as hands reached out to touch the man who was the glue that held together this thing they called a family. Those intelligent blue eyes briefly settled on each person surrounding him. “Take care of each other,” he said just before his face screwed up in a wince. He moaned, and Yuri apologized quietly as he dropped a scalpel and inserted what looked to be a straw in the incision he’d just made between Vasily’s ribs. A gurgle sounded, and then blood poured from the tube to spill onto the dirty floor.

As medical talk abounded—lungs filling with blood…shock…major blood vessel—Yuri grasped Vasily’s chin and flashed a penlight into his eyes. “You better start calling in those favors, my brother,” he muttered to the Pakhan who ruled close to a thousand men. After listening to his heart, or lungs, for a moment, he swiftly filled a syringe. “Like you always tell your boys…” He flicked the vein in the crook of Vasily’s elbow before he injected him with the substance. “Despite who we are, he’s listening.”

Yuri motioned behind Alek, and Dmitri and Jak brought over the stretcher Alek recognized from the infirmary. As Yuri went back to working on the drain sight while Micha repeatedly performed an ABCs check, the boys lifted and placed Vasily on the cushioned plank. He lost consciousness as they rushed him to the back of the house.

By the time everyone converged in the small waiting area outside the room Lekzi had been treated in less than a week ago, the bright light above the door was glowing like the sun, signifying someone was fighting for their life.

For the first time, that someone was the leader of the organization.

With his nerves shot, and his anger raging that his uncle would do this for him, Alek wheeled around when he felt a touch on his shoulder.

His life stood there. Safe. Both of them in pristine condition. One tormented, the other innocently smiling. He walked into the arm Sacha held up and embraced his future while he waited to see if they would be forced to live it without the man Alek had worshiped his entire life.

Thirty minutes in and all heads came up when sneakers squeaked, signifying someone light was running down the hallway. Surprise swept the room when Tegan blew by, her expression anxious but resolute. They’d seen her at Markus’s funeral, but she hadn’t said more than a quiet, subdued hello. Though Alek had watched with a heavy heart when Maks had found her in a corner; the two had hugged it out for about five minutes.

She didn’t say a word as she darted through the infirmary door, already ripping off her coat to reveal scrubs.

Alek was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one suddenly struggling with an overload of emotion as they settled in to wait.

♦ ♦ ♦

Two hours and no news later, Alek could hear the crack of wood and hammering. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his breaking heart, but the crew Vincente had called in to take care of the hole in the front of the house.

To try to keep his mind busy, he’d been thinking on what they were going to do when Vasily woke from his surgery. Naturally, they’d have to stay at the other house with the boys. His uncle would just have to put up with the circus. And when this place was repaired, Alek would bring his family back here to live permanently. He wanted to share in the raising of his daughter, and aside from her mother, what better person was there to do that with than Vasily?

Keeping a lid on his panic, he saw Sacha across the way, covering Lekzi, who’d fallen asleep in her bassinet.
If
he had a family to bring back. Which he would. It just couldn’t happen any other way. There would be no point to any of this if they weren’t with him.