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Chapter Thirty-Eight
DRAGAN
When Sergei isin England he lives in a secure complex outside the city. He is there today; waiting for me. Normally, this trip is never necessary. He reads about my work in the newspapers while enjoying his breakfast, or a courier brings him the photographs, or when I was younger and more gregarious, a little memento.
Still, he agreed to see me willingly enough. Sergei enjoys a whiskey with me. He once told me that I reminded him of himself when he was young.
It takes forty minutes to reach the complex with its high walls and gated entrance. I carefully go through my plan again as I turn off the A316 and get into Richmond. Getting in will not be a problem. Getting out alive would have been almost impossible, but with Nikolai’s help there is a good chance I’ll makeit.
The armed guards at the gate wave me in without trouble. I was here two days ago. I continue down the long driveway to the main house, taking note of the guard dogs roaming the property. I know Sergei has at least four, but it is daytime and there are only two on patrol. They are obviously excellent at what they have been trained to do, though. I feel a little regret that such beautiful creatures must be sacrificed, but I have no choice.
I park my car and walk up to the house. A gardener is meticulously pruning a topiary in the shape of a deer. He does not even glance at me. He has a long way to go before he finishes his job. Good. He will be my witness later. Two men come out of the house and walk off to the side. They are kitchen staff. They notice me but do not smile or acknowledge me. No one stopsme.
Fifty meters to my left there is a security house with armed guards. They stand very still and stare at me. There will be at least another two of them inside the house.
I knock on the LA style tall doors, and enter when a large, beefy man in a badly-fitting black suit opens it. Another two equally intimidating men stand with their feet apart and watch with dour expressions. I raise my arms to either side of me, and the man who opened the door frisks me thoroughly for weapons. His hands move briskly and professionally all over my body. He finds nothing and stepsback.
“Where is Sergei?” Iask.
“In his office.” His accent is thick and there is not an ounce of friendliness in hisface.
“And Viktor?” Viktor is Sergei’s son, the one Raven saw in the alley. He killed a man at the back of the casino over a petty dispute, risking everything because he cannot control his temper.
“He is there too. Come withme.”
I nod and follow him past two more cold-eyed Russian goons. If I am fortunate everything will go to plan. My mission is simple. I need to kill Sergei. Viktor is incompetent and disliked by others in the organization. Once his father is dead, the power vacuum will ensure someone will end his life shortly thereafter.
The door to the office is closed. His security man knocksonce.
Sergei calls something in Russian.
The door opens and I walkin.
“It’s the help,” Viktor sneers sarcastically. His father pays me, and that makes me a servant in his eyes, but it is more than that. He is jealous ofme.
His father glances at him, but says nothing.
I step past the threshold, and the big man closes the door behind me. The three of us are alone in the room. Sergei is seated behind hisdesk.
“The job is done?” heasks.
Inod.
“Prove it,” Viktorsays.
Ignoring him, I keep my eyes on Sergei. Most likely both are armed, but if I can take out the father, the true threat in this room, Viktor, the shitbag will be too stunned to react.
My heart rate increases slightly, the way it always does before a kill, but my fingers are steady and my breathing calm. There is even a smile on my face. Outward nervousness makes men like this suspicious.
I pull a cellphone from my pocket.
“Yes, I have a photo.”
Viktor walks around the desk to stand beside his father. I bring up the photo of Raven I took that night. Her chest covered in pig’s blood as she lies on the ground pretending to be dead. I place my phone on the desk a little further away from Sergei than would make it comfortable for him to simply look down and see the photo. In the time it takes them to lean over to see the image, I whip up the small knife hidden inside the heel of myshoe.
The movement causes Sergei to look up. He does not have time to react. His mouth opens. “I—” he begins, but gets no further.
I hurl the knife at him. Years of training delivered in a split-second. Bullseye. The knife stabs his throat just under the Adam’s apple. There is no way to bring a man back from such a wound. His eyes bulge as his hands come up to grab his throat. A futile gesture. Blood pours down his hands. He’ll be dead in a minute. While I sat going through my plan minute by minute, going through every unexpected scenario that could possibly arise, I never envisioned this being soeasy.
“What the hell have you done?” Viktor screams as he reaches for his own weapon. I launch myself at the arrogant bastard and as my body slams into his, his gun discharges. The sound is amplified by the room’s hard floors and high ceilings. Good. The security guards will be here in seconds. If they didn’t hear Viktor’s cowardly shouts, they definitely would have heard the gunshot.
We land on the ground. While he is lying there winded, I smash his jaw with a power punch calculated to knock out a man twice his size. I don’t want to kill him. He’s out cold instantly. I glance around. Sergei falls sideways next to his son, gasping and reaching for me. I step back out of his grasp.
This is all his doing.
I hear heavy footsteps in the hallway, more than one set, charging down towards me. I lock the door—a momentary obstacle at best. I pick up Viktor’s gun from the floor and reach into Sergei’s jacket for his. He has stopped moving and his eyes are wide open. Outside, the men start ramming and kicking the door. They are thickset gorillas and they will burst through any moment.
I lie back on the table with both my hands up and ready. If I must die today, I am ready. I will die a happy man if I can secure Raven’s and Janna’s future.
As the door flies open I spray them with slugs. They unleash a hail of bullets that smash the table I am on. A bullet buzzes past close to my head. A stab of pain punches into my thigh as I continue to shoot. The chambers in my gun are not yet empty and three men are sprawled on the ground, their hulking bodies riddled with lead. I assess my wound quickly. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s just a flesh wound. Enough to slow me down, but not stop me. I have dealt with far worse.
I take two guns from the dead men and hurry to the window. Opening it, I climb through and drop onto the manicured lawn. The guards communicate with one another via earpiece, so by now, they will all know the shots were fired in Sergei’s office.
I set off at a lurching run to the front of the house. Someone calls out. Orders me to stop. I run harder. I keep running, not looking back, not taking the time to see how close they are to me or how many there are. I assume the worst and work from there, picking up speed to avoid being taken out right there on the grass. I need to make it back to where the gardeneris.
Something catches on my foot and I go sprawling to the ground, landing hard, grunting at the agony that shoots up my leg. Before I can turn around properly a devil-faced snarling, foaming Rottweiler pounces and sinks its teeth into my calf. OhFuck.
No time to think.
I empty two taps into his head. His jaws loosen and the carcass falls away from me. The other dog is charging. I feel more regret to put a slug into it than I did those human beings I just killed. It falls with a whimper and stays still. I drag myself up, blood pouring from my wounds, and carry on running.
The guards are shouting at one another and getting closer.
I need to find cover quickly. To reach a hiding spot before I am eliminated out here in the open. I spot a rose arbor a few meters ahead. Shots whizz past me. Shit! They’re gaining onme.
I drop to my hands and knees and half-crawl, half-roll towards the arbor. I pull myself upright and lean against the wooden structure. I picture Raven’s face. I am ready to resign myself to dying in a hail of gunfire if I know I died for her. I saved her life. I did somethinggood.
Sergei’s remaining men are almost upon me. I know what I have todo.
I struggle to my feet, swaying. There are six of them. They are spreading out so that I won’t be able to protect myself from all sides. Too late for that, fuckers. They are not dealing with an amateur. I aim and start firing. I know which ones to take down first. They don’t see me. After the first two go down the men start running for cover. There is none of course. Now they are the sitting ducks. I take them out. Allsix.
I don’t have a lot of ammo left. My only hope of survival is to make it to the front of the house.
I drop to the ground and roll as fast as I can down the grassy slope. I still have some bullets and I will take out as many as I have to if they findme.
I may die, but Raven will besafe.
As the shouts of more men coming grow closer, I picture her and Janna on an island far away. Where the sea is blue and sun is hot. Raven will wear a red bikini and Janna will build sandcastles. I can join them if I can just make it to the front of the house.
I stand up and start running as fast as I can. I am so hyped up on adrenalin there is no longer any pain. As I reach the front I see the gardener cowering on the ground. He is my witness. He will see what happens next and tell Viktor. Beside my car I see two other cars parked there that were there before. I start running towards mycar.
A door of one of the cars opens and Nikolai comes out. He takes out a gun and points it at me. There is no emotion on his face. I freeze. This is the moment I warned Raven about. The Russians always stick together. He will betray me. She said trust her. Trust her gut. He has the drop on me. The gardener watches. I raise my gun athim.
He pulls the trigger.
White-hot pain explodes in my chest. I drop to my knees and fall forward. It is Raven’s face that I see before the darkness comes.
Always Raven. My Raven.
