by Red Phoenix
Rytsar had already arranged to have an eye-specialist contact his brother. The doctor would claim to be looking for people with Tamir’s unique eye condition who were willing to try a fully funded “experimental” procedure. As far as his brother, Pavel… his young wife was about to become a random sweepstakes winner, the money from which would take care of the extra expenses of twins.
Although Rytsar was not ready to meet with his brothers in person, he needed to know they were all well.
Samantha slipped her watch on and told him solemnly, “I will wear this with pride, Rytsar.”
Rytsar was pleased to see her put it on. It would act as a reminder of what she’d done for him here—if or when his old feelings of rage threatened to take over.
As they talked late into the night, it gave Rytsar a chance to learn a little more about Captain. He was an extremely private man, having been treated like an outcast by most of the world because of the physical damage done to his face and body during the war.
But it wasn’t the outside scars that defined him.
“You never forget, no matter how much time passes. Each death is a burden I carry.”
“How many did you lose that day?” Rytsar asked, understanding the heavy weight of that burden.
“Sixty-two,” he answered without flinching. “Sixty-two men who were under my command.”
“What happened?” Samantha asked.
“We were supposed to have reinforcements bring up the rear when we were told to take that hill, but the other regiments never showed. It was a slaughterhouse with no way for me to protect my men, and nowhere to retreat.”
“How did you survive?”
Captain closed his eyes, sighing heavily. “My only goal was to shield as many of them as I could from the gunfire, but then the enemy launched grenades. I was hit and should have died.”
He buried his head in his hands, groaning. “I wish I had died with my men. Instead, the three of us who survived the bloodbath were split up and taken to separate enemy camps.”
He looked up at Rytsar, shaking his head in sorrow. “The other two didn’t make it and none of my men received a proper burial. Instead, they were heaped into mass graves and covered up as if they were trash.”
A tear ran down his scarred cheek.
“So, something like this,” Captain said, looking at each of them. “It gives me solace. While I can’t change the past, being able to use my military experience to take down an unstable regime—it means something to a haunted old man.”
Samantha reached out, placing her hand on his. “We all suffer from pasts that need reckoning.”
Captain nodded with a grim look of agreement.
Rytsar asked Titov to join him outside before the hour grew too late. It was time to part ways, but he found it far more difficult than he’d anticipated.
When Rytsar had said his final goodbyes to Titov in LA, believing he was about to die, it hadn’t affected him nearly as much as it was affecting him now.
They’d become inseparable while working together to exact revenge on Vladimir Durov. Afterward, Titov decided to become his right-hand man.
Together, they found solace because of the tragic past they shared.
Although Rytsar had moved on, carving out a life for himself, Titov had been content to stand in the shadows acting as his support. He took pride in Rytsar’s accomplishments, and never looked to break away from their comfortable routine.
Now it was time for Titov to move on.
Naturally, Rytsar wanted a rich future for his friend, but the thought of not seeing him on a daily basis was difficult to face. It was like losing a part of himself, a part he had grown to count on.
“Shall we drink to your health?” Rytsar asked, producing a bottle he’d hidden from Captain.
Titov laughed, looking him over. “I think your health would make better sense, since you are in such poor shape.”
“Then to your future,” Rytsar suggested.
“What little of it I have left.”
Rytsar punched him playfully. “Stop with all the negativity.” He held up the vodka and made a toast, “To a family that proudly carries on your name.”
Titov chuckled. “If I can find a woman who will have me.”
“There you go again,” Rytsar complained, taking a swing before handing him the bottle. “Now drink up, you depressing bastard.”
A feeling of somberness enveloped them both as they drank.
“I can still go with you to America,” Titov offered.
Rytsar frowned, shaking his head. “Nyet. I’m staying there until the babe is born, and you need to settle down with a little woman and pop out five kids.”
“Five?”
“Absolutely. One for each letter in my given name—in homage to my greatness.”
Titov snorted. “Always shouting your own praises.”
“If not me, who would?”
Titov chuckled. “That’s why you’ve always succeeded in life. You never doubted yourself. Not like the rest of us.”
“How could I when I had such strong support behind me?” Rytsar admitted, trying hard to keep his emotions in check. “I’ve depended on you all these years. More than you know.”
“A trained monkey could have done what I’ve done,” Titov scoffed.
Rytsar punched him again. “You’re getting on my nerves with all the self-deprecation.”
Titov shrugged. “I guess my sour attitude boils down to one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to miss you.”
Titov’s honest confession hit Rytsar hard. He grabbed Titov by the back of the neck. Staring straight into his eyes, Rytsar told him, “Your life begins now.”
When he let go, Rytsar turned and walked out into the trees. Without looking back, he held up his hand and said, “Five of them.” Lowering one finger at a time, he spelled it out for Titov: “A-N-T-O-N.”
Laughter followed him as Rytsar escaped into the darkness of the forest to wrestle with his feelings of loss.
Rytsar watched the screen with Captain and Samantha as they flew over Greenland on their way to America.
Using the camera on the military drone, they had a bird’s eye view of the compound. Rytsar could barely make out the tiny figures as the Koslov higher-ups made their way into the main building. There they would find the table was laden with rich Russian foods and the finest vodka.
A feast to commemorate their last meal.
It would become immediately apparent to the Koslov brothers that something was off when no one came to greet them. As planned, while a handful of henchmen fanned out with guns raised to search the compound, each brother headed out in a different direction.
Gavriil, ever the militant, headed straight for the ammunition storage. Chuckling to himself, Rytsar watched as Gavriil opened the door and walked inside.
As soon as he set off the laser trigger, he would activate the device and a giant pendulum would swing toward him at great velocity. Gavriil would look down to see Samantha’s stiletto heel buried deep in his chest. As he gasped out his last breaths, he would hear the message Rytsar had recorded for the occasion.
Gavriil Koslov, I have waited for this day ever since you ordered my mother’s death. Revenge is mine, handed to you in the form of Mistress Clark’s stiletto. Welcome to Hell, pizda, and be sure to say hello to your little brother.
Rytsar nodded to himself in satisfaction, thinking about it.
Stas, however, took longer to reach his destination. Since he was in charge of the money, it made perfect sense that he made a beeline to their underground safe, tucked away in the basement of an outlying building.
Rytsar watched with a great sense of anticipation as Stas entered the structure. After making his way down the stairs, Stas would come to the room that held the safe. Once the door was unlocked, Stas would find the room was flooded with a thin layer of water. A lone florescent light above the safe would crackle as it blinked on and off sporadic
ally, highlighting the safe while hiding what lie in wait for him.
Just as with Gavriil, his movement into the room would spell his doom.
As soon as he triggered the laser, he would be hit by a sudden jolt of electricity that would bring him to his knees. The strength of the voltage would keep him still as the device lowered from above, covering his head.
Stas would feel the tight embrace of the helmet as it began to swell, creating a tight seal around his eyes. Meanwhile, the modified fucking machine on wheels would slowly move into position. On the end of it, where there had once been a dildo, there was now a cow’s tongue.
Stas would feel the pressure of the suction applied to his eyes steadily increase. However, his screams of terror would be silenced as the cow tongue entered his mouth and the machine began its ramming motion.
As he choked on the tongue, he would hear Rytsar’s voice loud and clear inside the helmet.
Stas Koslov, you must pay for my mother’s death and for torturing my friend. Revenge is mine today. You will be gifting me your eyes and, because you seem to enjoy tongue so much, I thought you would relish a little tongue action as you breathe your last. Welcome to Hell.
Rytsar felt a sense of immense liberation when the compound disappeared in an enormous explosion a few minutes later, obliterating everything in its wake.
The three of them sat watching the screen in silence afterward.
Slowly the dust began to settle, revealing a massive crater in the middle of nowhere. It was all that was left to signify the end of the Koslov Empire.
It was a sobering and all-encompassing victory.
Heaven
Rytsar stepped off the plane and took in a deep breath.
He had never believed he would feel the warmth of Californian sunshine on his face again. He smiled at his two comrades, feeling a lightness in his heart that he had never known. “It’s good to be alive!” he declared.
Both Captain and Samantha nodded their agreement, looking around them in wonder as if they too were in shock to find themselves back home.
“And now I must leave you,” Rytsar announced.
Captain clasped his shoulder. “Go in peace.”
Rytsar put his hand around Captain’s shoulder. “It is because of your expertise that there were no unnecessary deaths. I cannot express the gratitude I feel.”
“As I said before, it is rare for a man of my age to be given the opportunity to utilize my talents.” He looked at Rytsar thoughtfully. “I have a feeling of closure with my men. Their deaths were not in vain. What I learned after years of war, I was able to employ now. In a sense, our victory was theirs, as well.”
“I agree, Captain. Everyone can sleep easier knowing the insanity of the Koslovs has ended. Now go to your woman and let her see you in the flesh. I suspect you will experience a true homecoming tonight.”
Captain nodded curtly, but Rytsar saw the glint in his eye. Sex was never so sweet as when it was granted to a dead man.
Rytsar thought of Brie and smiled to himself. Oh, the rapture he was about to experience…
When Rytsar turned to face Samantha, he could see the hint of sadness in her smile. “I’m glad you have returned safely to where you belong, Rytsar.”
“Thanks in part to both of you. I will never forget the debt I owe you for my life.”
Samantha shook her head. “You owe me nothing but, hopefully, that fresh beginning we spoke about can now become a reality.”
Rytsar stared at her for a moment, surprised that he felt no ill will toward her. Given his current state of elation, it was not unexpected, but maybe…just maybe…there was a chance this feeling between them would last.
“Will you be returning to Denver?” he asked her.
“Yes.”
Rytsar glanced at his plane. “If you would like, my men can fly you there directly.”
Samantha seemed hurt by the suggestion.
“What’s wrong?” He felt his hackles rise, suddenly suspicious of her motives toward him and their future.
“I’d like to see Thane and Brie before I go,” she answered.
Rytsar laughed at himself, realizing there was no reason to fear. “You may go to them now, if you like. I have someone I must visit before I go to the hospital.”
“Before Brie and Thane?” she asked in surprise.
“Da,” Rytsar answered, saying no more to her.
Samantha shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll head to the hospital. But how should I explain your absence to them? You know they’ll be surprised when I show up without you.”
He grinned. “Tell them I plan to make a grand entrance.”
“Yes,” she replied with a half-smile, “they will believe that.”
“And if I do not see you again today, know it is good between us.”
Her smile transformed into a stunning grin. Echoes of the old Samantha he’d once known flashed in his head as he stared at her.
“I am grateful,” she said, then turned away. The controlled Mistress took a moment before turning to meet his gaze. She held out her hand to him. “To new beginnings.”
“Da, new beginnings,” he agreed, shaking her hand.
Rytsar had called in three cars beforehand. He walked to the first and gave his man directions. As the car pulled away, he glanced back at Captain and Samantha. The two were hugging.
Times of adversity made for strange bedfellows.
He found it amusing.
His vehicle pulled up to Marquis’s home, but Rytsar felt hesitant to face Wallace again. The burden of his sacrifice was not easy to bear.
However, not one to back down from his responsibility, Rytsar walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. The sound of joyous barking met him on the other side.
Rytsar heard the clicking of tiny nails as the dog rushed to the door, and his eyes suddenly filled with tears of happiness.
“Who is it, girl?” Wallace called out from the other side of the door.
The instant it opened wide enough, Mudryy bounded into Rytsar’s arms and started licking his face.
Rytsar could do nothing but laugh as the dog covered his face in a hundred canine kisses.
“It is good to see you again,” Wallace said, smiling at the excited animal in Rytsar’s arms. “Apparently, your pup thinks so too.”
Supporting the dog with one arm, Rytsar held out his other to Wallace. The man now wore a leather patch to cover his missing eye. It gave him a distinguished look, much like Captain’s.
“I have been anxious to reunite, Wallace.”
“You can call me Todd,” he replied, ushering him inside, “or Faelan, if you’re so inclined.”
Rytsar took him up on his offer and asked, “Tell me, Todd, how has your recovery been?”
“You should put Mudryy down before she licks your face off.” Pointing down the hallway as he closed the door, he said, “We can talk about my recovery once you’ve a chance to visit with Marquis and Celestia. They’re anxious to see you.”
When Rytsar set the dog down, she twisted around his legs as he made his way into the living room where Marquis and Celestia stood waiting.
Marquis came up to him first, shaking his hand vigorously. “It is a true miracle to see you again, Durov.”
“I feel the same.” Rytsar turned his gaze on Celestia and smiled. “I am grateful to see my good friends again.”
With a nod from Marquis, Celestia surprised Rytsar by rushing over to him and hugging him tightly. “I’ve been so worried about you, and have been on my knees, praying for you day and night.”
Rytsar looked at her in gratitude. “Your prayers are appreciated, Celestia.” He put his hand on his chest, stating, “Truly.”
She smiled with tears in her eyes. “I trusted God would hear my prayers, but I am ecstatic they all were answered. All of you made it back safely.”
“We did,” Rytsar answered, but couldn’t help glancing at Wallace. “Safely” was a relative term.
“Please sit down,”
Marquis instructed, pointing to the couch. On the coffee table, Celestia had already laid out vodka and pickles for him.
He winked at her. “You remembered my favorite kind of coffee.”
“I did,” she said, blushing as she glanced over at her Master.
“Will you all have a drink with me to celebrate this reunion?” he asked.
“Neither Celestia nor I drink, for personal reasons,” Marquis explained. “However, as this is a celebration of a miracle, and Jesus made water into wine, I see no harm in joining you for one drink.”
Rytsar looked at the man in admiration. Marquis was an uncompromising soul, and yet he was compassionate and human. Not a pious man of God, but a true living, breathing follower of his faith.
It was inspiring.
Rytsar insisted on pouring the shots and handing them out one by one.
“To you, Celestia, and your untiring prayers,” he said, handing her the glass.
Picking up the next, he gave it to Marquis. “For your wisdom of bringing Wallace and I together, and your willingness to take on the responsibility of Lilly in our stead.”
He gave the last shot to Wallace.
Rytsar stared straight at him. “To you, Wallace. A man of great courage and uncompromising loyalty. May good fortune shine upon you for the lives you have saved.”
Rytsar picked up his own glass and lifted it to them. “To life!”
All four took a drink, but Celestia only lasted one sip. Marquis forced it down in a couple of swallows, while Wallace and Rytsar downed it with similar vigor, slamming their glasses down on the table at almost the same moment.
Rytsar roared with exuberance, “Life tastes good, does it not?” He picked up a pickle and bit into it, grinning at the others.
The three each took a pickle and followed suit. Celestia smiled after she ate hers. “I now understand the appeal. I like the sip of vodka with a pickle.”
Rytsar let out a hearty laugh and lay back on the couch.
The invitation of a lap proved too much, and Mudryy leapt up. Rytsar was about to sweep her off the furniture, but Marquis stopped him, looking at the dog thoughtfully.