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"Stand by."
The camera pans to a wide-angle view of a room we call The Chamber. I can almost feel the chilly air and cold stone. The Chamber is a place for interrogation and execution, our take on a modern-day dungeon. Concrete is easier to clean than wood and doesn't get easily stained with blood.
The light is dim, reminiscent of an ancient dungeon with flickering torches. This is intentional. We want people who come here to be terrified. Terror is an excellent asset when you want answers.
There's a long, heavy table with high-backed chairs in the middle of the room. At the end of the room is a tiny, barred window that allows a sliver of sunlight but is impossible to exit.
All weapons are on clear display for Nikko. Lev is more likely to use psychological manipulation or deprivation, while Viktorchooses fists. Aleks is skilled at interrogation methods favored by Russian authorities. Unlike other methods of violence and intimidation, using observation and statements to elicit information gets him a long way, but he’s far from above physical intimidation.
The Chamber is particularly structured to house a prisoner for a very long time.
The camera moves back to Aleks, sitting placidly at a table with his hands folded in front of him. He's dressed as if he's about to conduct a business meeting, wearing his signature black shirt and tie and slacks. But I recognize that cold, fierce determination in his eyes. Next, I see our prisoners – two men on the younger side, late twenties. They’ve already been beaten, now chained to the wall in front of us, their faces against the wall with their backs to the camera. Their bare backs and arms show markings of the Bratva.
"Gentlemen, it has come to our attention that you tried to kidnap my mother last night." Aleks's voice is ice-cold. "As you can imagine, I don't take too kindly to that, nor does my brother. You have forfeited your lives for an attempt of violence against my mother. But before we kill you, you’ll give us what we ask for."
They are strategically placed in a stress position, arms just above comfortable so both are standing on their toes. Quietly, Viktor and Nikko enter the room.
Out of the corner of their eyes, with their peripheral vision, the prisoners can see my two brothers. One of them begins to tremble, the other stares stoically at the wall in front of him.
"We already know you work for Volkov," Aleks continues sternly. "We want you to tell us what you planned next.”
They remain silent. A muscle twitches in Aleks's jaw.
"Nikko." It's then that I notice the small club-like bat in Nikko’s fist. He takes a step toward each of them. I turn the volume down on my phone so Aria doesn’t hear the sickening swish and thud of his weapon. The cries of pain of his victims. The sound of breaking bones and bruised flesh.
Nikko steps aside and casually wipes blood out of his eyes.
Aleks continues.“Anybody? Anyone want to offer information?"
They stare straight ahead. Aleks opens a slim silver laptop in front of him. "I've identified them both. Ilya on the left is a new recruit to Volkov, obviously, because he would've been more successful had he been more experienced. He has a wife and two small children."
Our prisoner stiffens in fear. “I'm confident you don't want to see your wife or children hurt, do you?"
Next, Aleks nods to Viktor. It's then that I notice the small device in Viktor’s hand. He walks to the first man and presses it to his temple. He screams in pain from the electric shock. Aleks’s voice is cold and confident.
"Tell us what the next move is."
I watch as neither one of the men move. The next is placed under the same electric shock treatment, but doesn't cave. Finally, one of them curses out in Russian, saying that he will never reveal anything even at the point of death.
Meanwhile, Nikko is sharpening a knife. He places it on the table in their peripheral vision.
Viktor speaks up, his deep voice booming in the enclosed area. "Allow me to explain what happens to people who cross the Romanovs. We will come after anyone and everyone you care about. They may die quietly, or they may be subject to a violent death. But make no mistake, they will die. We will find out where you live, and we will destroy it. We will find out everything that matters to you, from the smallest little puppy dog to the biggest truck that you drive, and we will destroy all of them. Nothing of who you are will remain."
"Viktor."
Aleks nods toward them.
I've had enough. I tap the button on my phone. This is child’s play.
"Viktor, Nikko. They tried to take our mother. Uncuff them. Show them who you are." My voice is merciless. It is only out of love for my wife that I am not there exacting revenge with my own bare hands.
I steel myself against the sound of their pleas for mercy.
Viktor takes one and holds him up by the neck. "You had your hands on my mother. What happens in Volkov's family if someone touches one of his loved ones?" When he doesn't answer, Viktor drops him unceremoniously to the floor and kicks his ribs. "Tell me."
"He loses a hand," the man says. Viktor nods and takes the knife from Aleks. The man howls as they stretch his arm on the table in front of them.
"Mikhail?"
