AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But at the same time, we now can see just how few of them there are.
And that alone makes it easy to stand and fight. Because as long as we stand our ground, they have no chance of winning.
“Get around them!” Rasputin shouts from his place behind a stack of pallets. He’s slumped low, a wound in his side oozing dark fluid. But that’s not stopping him from turning to shoot at the enemy every few seconds.
Beside him, Kristof lies lifeless, blood pooling around his head.
I can’t see Lenka from where Viktor and I are barricaded, but now’s not the time to worry about him—or Malik, for that matter. My only mission is killing the bastards who put their hands on Alina. My secondary objective would be to bring Viktor back to her alive.
Clenching my jaw, I rise above the crate to aim once more, and I take out two more targets in one go. The tide turns quickly as the men we’re hunting drop like flies, and in less than ten minutes, it’s over. The last of the machine gun fire dies out as our forces overwhelm them.
And for a brief moment, before we leave our cover, Viktor’s gray eyes meet mine. He doesn’t say anything, but he gives a nod of acknowledgment. I saved his life, and for that, he’s willing to grant me a reprieve about Alina. At least that’s how I interpret his silent message.
“Check them all,” Viktor commands, rising to take control of the bloody situation. “If anyone’s alive, bring them to me for questioning.”
I take my time, walking through the space, inspecting each face along with whether they have a pulse. I find a few I recognize from the club fight, but none matching Alina’s description of the “boss”. No burn scars, as far as I can find. Four prisoners are dragged before Viktor, all injured but alive. And when I finish my examination of the dead bodies, I head back to the center of the warehouse, where Viktor’s set up shop.
On my way, I find Lenka standing next to Rasputin. My captain leans against a crate, his teeth clenched in a stoic grimace. He doesn’t make a sound as the pair of them work to staunch the blood oozing from Rasputin’s side.
“Boss is looking for you,” the captain says, jerking his chin toward Viktor when I approach to see if they need help. “Better not keep him waiting.”
“You good?” I ask, ignoring the directive.
He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ll live.”
Nodding, I give a lazy salute and keep walking toward Alina’s brother.
“How did you know we were coming?” Viktor demands of the prisoners, the frustration in his tone telling me it’s not the first time he’s asked the question.
“Because we’ve been watching you,” one of the men finally snaps, and when I look at him, I’m not surprised to find it’s the blond who was in my apartment earlier today. The same guy I fought outside Plastique. The guy just won’t die, and his tongue is bound to get him in serious trouble.
His eyes flick in my direction as I stop beside Viktor, and a smirk spreads across his face.
Viktor glances toward me, silently demanding my report.
“We don’t have all of them,” I state, keeping my voice low.
“How do you know?” Viktor cocks his head, his eyes scrutinizing.
“The burn-faced guy Alina described, the one we think they call Kryuger? He’s not here.” I shake my head, my brow furrowing as I wonder if this might not have been a trap—leave a few men with enough ammo to do serious damage, but take the key players out of the equation in case things go south.
They definitely knew we were coming. That much is obvious. They were too ready for us to believe otherwise, and the fact that their leader is MIA makes me confident in the assessment.
Viktor nods, turning his attention back to the prisoners. “I want answers, and if you don’t make me work for them, I might just let you live,” he states.
But the four prisoners set their jaws in a visible display of defiance.
“Why are you targeting the Sakharov family?” Viktor demands, stalking closer to the one on the left.
The man averts his gaze, silently indicating he won’t be the one to break. Viktor grasps his openly bleeding shoulder, pressing his thumb into the bullet hole, and the prisoner cries out in pain.
“Where is the man in charge?” Viktor snarls, getting in the man’s face.
The prisoner breathes heavily through his teeth, but he refuses to meet Viktor’s eyes, and he keeps his jaw firmly set to make it clear he has no intention of speaking.
Frustration flashes across Viktor’s face, and I wonder if Rasputin might not have a better temperament for the job. After watching the captain work for over a month now, I can’t deny the man has a talent for getting people to talk. But he’s in danger of bleeding out right now, regardless of how stoically he assured me he would live. So that leaves Viktor with the reins.
“What about you?” Viktor asks, moving to the next prisoner. Only this time, he reaches into his pocket and withdraws a knife, flicking it open with a flourish. “You ready to tell me where your leader is hiding?”
