Until the End (30 page)

“You know of me, yes?” Luka asked. “No, look at me.” He tapped the tip of his blade against his forehead, drawing the man’s attention up.

When his eyes widened just slightly, Luka smiled.

“And you know what
I’m
capable of. Answer his questions.”

Mishca didn’t waste any time. “Where is she?

He stayed stubbornly silent and Mishca was getting edgier by the second. Before he could lunge at the man, and effectively ruin any chance he had of getting the information, Luka stuck his arm out, halting him.

“Give me five minutes.”

Four and a half minutes later, Luka came out, his hands and jeans covered in blood, yet he didn’t look ruffled in the slightest. Withdrawing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, Luka grabbed one, lighting it up, the blood on his hands staining it.

“I’ve got an address.”

Brahim was on the other side of the room, biting into an apple, laughing with the remaining two men that were left. Lauren had no idea when the one that had been watching her would return, but she didn’t have any time to waste.

She had been trying in vain to free her hands from the zip-tie that bound her wrists, but so far, the hardened plastic had only bitten into her wrists, cutting the skin, but she was too determined to focus on the pain.

Moving her arms as much as possible, she fought to get free, until the cord caught on a groove in the back of the chair. She froze for a millisecond, slowing her speed, trying to determine if it was deep enough to be affective. When the tie didn’t give, she slowly began working it, making sure she held onto it, praying that when it broke, it wouldn’t hit the ground.

Already she could feel the tightened grip slacking. It took longer than she would have liked, working at an agonizingly slow pace.

Finally, it broke.

She looked up, making sure Brahim or the others hadn’t noticed her movements. She had no idea what her next move was going to be—there was no visible weapon in sight—but she knew that if he followed through on his threat, she wouldn’t die, not like this.

On the other side of the room, there was a hole in the rotting floor, and if she remembered correctly, they were only one floor up. Maybe if she timed it correctly, she could dash over to it, jumping down and make it out the building before they could get to the stairs.

Until Brahim turned to look at her.

Lauren tried not to look guilty as he walked towards her, tossing the pit of his apple as he came. Heart hammering, she prayed he wouldn’t circle the chair and notice what she had done.

“They said I could not do it,” Brahim said conversationally. “They mocked me, but I’ll show them.”

When he wasn’t trying to be menacing, he reminded her of a child. She could see the similarities between him and his brother, but whereas Jetmir exuded a maniacal sort of rage, Brahim seemed docile, besides the whole kidnapping her thing.

Keeping his attention before he could make another move, Lauren asked, “Who mocked you?”

He frowned, rubbing his jaw. “Everyone. I admit I am not as great as my brother, but what chance was I given? I’m always in his shadow, but no longer.”

Brahim looked at his watch again then glared at her. “I expected the diamond by now. Maybe you don’t mean as much to the Russian as I originally believed?”

He phased it like a question, like he was now questioning what he had done.

Brahim didn’t seem to realize what she
did
mean to Mishca. Despite the warnings she’d been given, the harsh words, and the mocking smiles, Lauren knew she meant far more to him than anyone realized.

“Mishca doesn’t have it,” she said solemnly. “If anyone does, it’s Naomi.”

“No,” he said shaking his head harshly. “No, she told me he had it.”

Son of a bitch.

“He doesn’t, but if you let me go, I will do everything I can to get it back to your family. Mishca will listen to me. If you don’t hurt, Mishca will just let it go. Please. ”

He looked like he was wavering, but one of his men barked something at him making him clench his jaw.

“You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not, I—”

“Shut up!” He retrieved his gun, pointing it at her. “If I don’t get a call in the next five minutes, you’re dead. Diamond or no diamond.”

He left then, leaving Lauren to contemplate his words. It didn’t matter though.

She had lied when she said if he didn’t hurt her, Mishca would let it go.

Whether she walked away—or died trying—he was a dead man.

Vlad grabbed the back of Mishca’s shirt, halting him mid-jump out the car. It was the first time he had ever done so and in his current state of mind, Mishca was too pissed to differentiate between friend and enemy.

Lightning fast, he had the barrel of his gun flush against Vlad’s forehead.

“Back. Off.”

He doubted it was the first time Vlad had ever had a gun pointed in his face, but the fact that he hadn’t even blinked was still unnerving.

“You are too emotional, let us go,” he said calmly, never bothering to knock the gun out of his face.

“
Nyet
!”

The ten other men with them looked on, but all knew that when Mishca gave that hard ‘no,’ there was no arguing with him, but Vlad was not like them.

“You will make a mistake. You will die. Do you want her to see that?”

At that, Mishca pulled his gun back. “
Izvineniya—Apologies
.”

Vlad nodded, but Mishca wasn’t done.

“I have to go.”

He could either go with them, or without them, but either way, he was entering that building.

Frowning, Vlad stared at him—seeing his resolve—and nodded. “Try not to get us killed, yes?”

Nodding in agreement, Mishca got out of the car, rechecking the clip and loading a bullet into the chamber.

He had no real idea how many men Brahim had with him considering not many of the Albanians were as loyal to him as they were to Jetmir, but Mishca brought enough of his men to take any number down.

“
Ostat’sya zdes’—Stay here
,” he ordered a few of them, leading the way into a building he was far too familiar with.

It was one that marked a particular event in his life, one that had turned his world upside down, and explained many of his mother’s mental problems.

Even after his initiation into the
Bratva
, he still hadn’t learned everything.

As soon as they stepped inside, they waited.

It was an old building, on the outskirts of town with very little access to it. Mishca was all too familiar with the history of this place.

There was trash and debris all over the ground floor, an old staircase on the opposite side of them.

Mishca held his hand up, stopping Vlad and Luka from continuing. He pointed at the ceiling, hearing the footsteps above them. It didn’t sound like many, but he couldn’t be sure.

Giving Luka a pointed look, he didn’t have to explain what came next. Grabbing a small rock near his feet, Mishca held onto it as they silently moved out of view of anyone coming down the stairs. When they were safely concealed, he tossed it.

It bounced a couple of times before settling down, all conversation above them stopping.

Brahim said, “Go check it out.”

Two sets of footsteps sounded then, both coming down the steps, one stopping midway. The first man appeared at the bottom, holding his gun out in front of him, but his first mistake was putting his back to them.

Without even the squeaking of the boards, Luka grabbed the man and before
he
could make a sound, he put one hand on top of the man’s head, another beneath his jaw, and twisted, effectively snapping the man’s neck.

Vlad helped moved the man’s body out of the way.

Luka, deepening his voice to imitate the man, said up the stairs in perfect Albanian, “
Kalon brez pas brezi—Come down
.”

The man hesitated, but finally came down the stairs. He too was taken out in a matter of seconds.

Mishca was trying to be patient, trying to keep a level head as he ascended the staircase, blind to what was happening above, but when he heard Lauren’s yelp of pain, he said fuck all to reason and went charging up the stairs.

First man he encountered, double-tap to the chest.

Cursing, Vlad played catch up, running ahead to take the hit if anyone was able to shoot back. He had always promised to protect Mishca with his life, even when he was throwing it away.

By the time they were down the short hallway and entering into the large space where Mishca spotted Brahim, three more men were dead.

Brahim spun around slowly and as Mishca raised his gun to finish him off, he immediately dropped his arm when he saw what Brahim was holding.

He was holding Lauren to his chest, his arm banded around her, his gun just inches from her head.

“You shoot, she dies.”

He didn’t have to say a word. Vlad and Luka lowered their guns, though he did have to give Luka a hard look when he didn’t take his finger off the trigger.

“How did you find me?”

“Put the gun down and I won’t kill you,” Mishca said through gritted teeth though everyone in the room knew that that was false.

Brahim gave Lauren a measured stare, one that Mishca didn’t understand, but he was itching to take him out, but there was no way to do that safely without harming Lauren in the process.

“Give me the diamond and you can have the girl back.”

There was a sort of desperation in Brahim’s voice, one that told Mishca everything he needed to know.

First, this wasn’t about Mishca, himself. He realized now that Jetmir
hadn’t
known what Brahim had done, and this was his attempt at recognition amongst his organization’s ranks, but someone should have warned him about the consequences of his actions. He didn’t know how, but this wasn’t going to end well for either of them.

Second, Naomi had something to do with this. There was no reason for the Albanian to think he had anything to do with their precious stone, yet he had gone out of his way to kidnap Lauren and demand it?

When he found her, no matter how long it took, she would pay for her part in this.

“This is not a negotiation,” Mishca said raising his voice. “It ends now.”

“You don’t demand me!” Brahim snapped, bringing his hand up to wrap around Lauren’s throat.

Behind him, Mishca thought he saw a glimmer of something across the way in another window, but he was too distracted by Brahim to get a good look at it.

When he put the gun flush against Lauren’s temple, Mishca’s eyes finally shifted to hers. What he saw there took all of the bravado out of him.

Fear. It was such an ugly emotion on her, one that ate at him. In that moment, just staring into her eyes, he regretted it all. He could have fought harder for her to leave, or at the very least, tell her the truth from the beginning so she would be prepared and more willing to listen to him.

“
Nichego ne sluchitsya s vami—Nothing is going to happen to you
,” he promised in Russian.

He wanted to reassure her, reassure himself that because he got her into this, he would get her out.

“Take me instead,” Mishca said still looking at Lauren though the words were directed at Brahim. “Until you recover your property, you can hold me. I’m sure your brother will agree to this after what I did to him.”

“Jetmir?” Now Brahim was furious. “What have you done with him?”

“
Ne v etom delo—Not the point
. Do we have a deal?”

“No, you—”

But he never got to finish that thought, because as soon as he removed the gun from Lauren’s head, pointing it now at Mishca, the glass behind him shattered.

Lauren screamed, scrambling away as a projectile exited the front of Brahim’s head, his body going limp and slumping to the floor, a pool of blood quickly staining the floor.

Mishca looked back at Vlad and Luka, but both of them looked confused as well, already looking to the open window for answers.