by Loki Renard
“Where are your security forces?”
“They’ll be watching.”
“Why are they watching? Why aren’t they attacking?”
“Because bloodshed always leads to blood being shed.”
* * *
Sophie
“Why are there men on the perimeter? There shouldn’t be a soul anywhere near it. They should know that stepping foot near us means war. We are fortified. They are out in the open. A single shot could take any of them and yet we cower in here and do nothing? We let them get away with displays of intimidation?”
Vadim spits the questions rapid-fire, his accent getting thicker with every passing question.
He. Is. Pissed.
I have never seen him like this before. I knew he was naturally dominant. I didn’t know how completely commanding he could be when it comes to matters like this one. I’ve had to bring my security detail in to answer to him, and they do not look like they are enjoying the conversation.
“Antagonizing them only leads to increased displays,” Maxim says. He is fifty-seven years old, and he was there the day my father died. I would have called him a traitor for not saving my father but he chose to save me instead. That old man is the reason the shrapnel that ripped my father apart never got a chance to so much as scrape me. Maxim wears the scars of his service, and I have guaranteed him that neither he, nor his family, will ever want for anything.
“You know what stops an increased display?” Vadim growls. “A bullet to the skull. Next time they come here, they die.”
The men shift uncomfortably. For years, they have acted in a purely defensive role. Telling them to outright kill is overstepping a line.
“Vadim...” I try to interject, but he cuts me off.
“This has gone too far. You are too passive. You have become like prey, going to ground. It should cost them to come near you. They should bleed every time they cross you. You must become someone to fear.”
I stare at him, feeling a lump rise in my throat. He doesn’t understand. I’m not someone to fear. I’m the last of my line. Nobody before me could withstand the evil of those men who hunt me. I have survived longer than I thought I would.
“I’m not going to pretend to be your lover so that they can kill me to satisfy their bloodlust,” he snarls. “I’m going to kill every. Last. One. Of them. Slowly.”
I am seeing the man Vadim left behind in Russia, I think. This is the gangster who must have stalked the streets of Vladivostok, striking terror into the hearts of those who crossed him. I wonder how many men he has hurt. How many he has killed. Something tells me both numbers would be in the double or even triple digits. He is a brute, simple as that, and he has a brutal idea of how to handle this situation.
“You have to understand, this situation has been evolving for a long time. We’ve found a way to live, and to survive.”
“You’ve found a way to hide, and not very well at that,” he says. “I’m telling you, the best defense is offense. I’m going to hurt them.”
“Easy, tiger,” I say, patting his hand. He gives me a snarl just like an angry beast. “My men have this under control. All you need to do is sit back and enjoy the life we have here.”
“Enjoy the prison you’ve put yourself in, you mean,” he says, his words biting and harsh. “This will not do. I will not live this way. I will not allow you to live this way.”
“You don’t get a choice as to how I live, or how you live,” I point out. “I’m the one in charge here. I’m the one who says how this go...”
And just like that the world is spinning, my feet are leaving the floor. I know what he’s going to do. He’s going to spank me. He’s going to punish me for pointing out the truth, because that’s how he operates. When he comes up against a fact he doesn’t like, he punishes it and he pushes it until it gets out of his way. But this one isn’t going to move. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. He doesn’t know who the men on the other side of the perimeter are. They are not going to be intimidated by one disgraced Russian gangster.
“Don’t fucking slap me, Vadim,” I curse, just before his palm meets my ass and sends a bolt of what is becoming very familiar sting racing through my body. “Ow, goddammit! I said don’t!”
“I heard what you said,” he says. “Did you hear what I said? Something has to change, or this ends in your blood being shed. You brought me into your life, and I’m going to do what I’m going to do. You’re going to give me money, and I’m going to use that money to build an offensive force that matches your defensive capabilities. I’m going to make sure every man who dares think about coming for you knows that it means his own head.”
“You can’t make me...” I say those four words and then I immediately regret them, because of course he can make me. He can do almost anything. I almost think he might be able to tackle the Vristok. But I don’t want him to. I have seen what they do to people who try to fight them. My father tried to protect us, but he failed, and I have a horrible feeling that Vadim will too. The Vristok are too powerful, and no matter how much money we spend, it is hopeless.
Vadim lets out a dark laugh. “Are you testing me, Sophie? Or do you want to feel your ass burn before you inevitably submit?”
“This isn’t about submission! It’s about survival!”
“You told me to fight when the time came to fight. Well, the time to fight is now, and I’m going to show you how a Russian fights when his back is against the wall.”
* * *
Vadim
I can’t wait to begin the battle. My fall from grace left me thinking I would never engage in the essential act that makes a man truly a man: war. I did not fear the ring the slavers had in store for me. I looked on it as my last battle. I would have been satisfied if I’d died there, but this is better. This is a battle for something more than mere survival. This is a fight for a bloodline. I never had one of those. I had men who used the words for family to make a stupid boy do what they wanted him to do.
“I’m going to make you so safe that you don’t think twice about going to a restaurant where other people are eating, or walk down the street instead of diving in and out of an armored car.”
She looks awkwardly at me from over my lap, and shakes her head. I know she doesn’t believe me, but she has nothing left to lose. All these years, she has been alone with only people she pays to protect her. I am surprised that none of them have been turned by the promise of more money, but perhaps there is some loyalty here amid the ruins of her family. If there is, it is worth more than gold.
* * *
Sophie
He pulls me up from his lap and he kisses me with a fierce passion that drives all other thoughts except those of him from my head. I barely notice that the guards must have excused themselves somewhere in the middle of it all. My ass is stinging, but he didn’t go all out, because this time he knew I wasn’t being defiant and naughty. He knows I’m scared, and he thinks I don’t know how to take the fight to the Vristok.
“I am going to make you safe,” he says, his voice quiet, but intense. “I’m going to teach you what safe is.”
“I think it is too late to learn,” I whisper against his lips.
“It isn’t,” he growls right back.
Chapter Five
One month later...
I have found fifteen men who I believe to be capable. They are men with American military experience, all of whom have found themselves at a loose end after the war, all of whom are eager to earn triple the salary they were paid to fight overseas, and all of whom will satisfy me that they are willing to do what is necessary to start fighting this war on my terms.
“So, uh, is this, like, legal?”
I glare at the boy. He is twenty-five, and one of the lesser distinguished members of this group, but I was assured he had the right stuff. I expected some trouble when I formed my team. Every group has a troublemaker. It used to be my role, until my brothers decided that I was the wrong kind of trouble.<
br />
“If you would like legal work, fill out this form,” I say, skimming one in front of him.
He looks down at it, then up at me. “This is an application for a fast food joint.”
“Right.”
He stares at me blankly, then lets out a laugh. “Okay, I get it.”
“Nothing we do here will be legal,” I say. “If you have a problem with that, you know what to do.”
“Wait, I have a question,” he pipes up again. A few of the others give him hard looks. They’re ready to get to work. I chose these men because of their temperaments, service records, and through word of mouth. Sophie’s contacts with the underworld include a number of mercenary services, which has enabled me to swiftly assemble what I think will be an excellent strike force.
“What?”
“You had a fast food application form just in case someone was a smartass?”
“I had a fast food application form, because one of you will be starting as an undercover employee there.” I look at Mr. Smarty. “You, I think.”
“Oh, god,” he groans as the other men laugh.
He’s a little shit, but he doesn’t refuse. He doesn’t even think of refusing. I like that about these military men. They are used to taking orders and respecting a command structure. If they resent my Russian blood, they show no sign of it. This is the professionalism I am looking for.
“Some of you may die,” I say, cutting the laughter short. “In the event of your death there will be a bonus of five million dollars paid to your nominated parties. Try to stay alive. The bonus for achieving our mission is fifteen.”
They are alert now. They know there is big money involved here. They saw the same things in this place that I did when I first came here. They were like kids in a toy store observing all the security and defense measures built into the very bones of this compound. It amused me to hear them sharing their theories as to why this place exists. Most of them think it is a bunker for some kind of exile. They’re not far off being right.
“What is the mission?”
That is the one thing they have not been told. I wanted them all assembled before I gave them the core details of the mission. This is too sensitive to put out on the grapevine. These men must be the keepers of this secret, and they must hold it impenetrably until they die.
“I need you to know that the penalty for knowing what I am about to tell you, and telling anyone else outside this room, is death,” I say, my voice heavy not with threat, but with gravity. “We are going to reach the very top echelons of an organization most people have never heard of, and we are going to destroy it from the head down.”
Now I have their attention. This is the stuff of their action movies. Every American boy grows up wanting to kill bad guys. I grew up learning how to become one. With any luck, these men won’t turn on me.
I put up an image of the man who I believe to be behind the assaults on Sophie. He is in his late sixties, a man with dark hair and brutish jaw, the kind of nasty little eyes that hold hate. Getting this picture was not easy, nor was the intel surrounding it.
“This is Mihai Rusu,” I say. “He is the only person I’ve been able to connect to this gang. He’s very rich, and very well protected. We need to find him, bring him in, and question him.”
“So we’re just going to abduct an old man?” Smartass pipes up again.
“Gag that boy,” I order.
I don’t give it to anyone in particular. I want to see which of these men is most closely aligned with me, who moves to obey the fastest. There is one man, near the front, who gets up, pulls a length of fabric from his pocket, steps around behind Mr. Smarty, and has that gag in his mouth the second he opens it to say something else.
“Thank you.”
“Tom Barry,” he says, introducing himself again, though he does not need to. Tom’s name came up over and over again when I was searching for men. He is one of my potential liabilities, wanted in several states, and with a reputation for untamed aggression. He is exactly the sort of man who would have fitted in with my brothers and me in Russia. In this more civilized country he is at a loose end.
Mr. Smarty rolls his eyes and reaches for the ties of the gag. The man behind him slaps his hands away with a hard swat, which causes another ripple of male laughter to break out.
We have our whipping boy. Every group needs one. It’s not an easy role to play, but is as necessary as the leader is. He will take most of the shit, but I’ll make sure he survives it.
“This is Sophie Mortari,” I tell them, putting another picture up, this time of Sophie. “She is to be protected at all costs. If she dies, we all do. You may have families. Wives, mothers, sisters, daughters. For the duration of this mission, this is the only woman that matters. She is your queen in this game of chess. You lose her, you lose everything.”
I’m not asking as much as it may sound. These men are not family men. I didn’t pick anyone with strong attachments. Those men are unreliable and can be blackmailed by a simple kidnapping. Every man here is a man who has had his life taken away from him in one way or another. This is an army of lost souls, and I know they will fight with ferocity, because a warrior without a cause is the most pathetic thing in the world. I know, because before I met Sophie, that was my fate.
“I’m splitting this group into three units. Tactical command, assault, and intelligence.” I glance over at the young man who is still gagged. “That’s you, Mr. Smarty.”
“God help us,” one of the tactical guys snorts.
These men don’t know each other well yet. That will have to change. For the next month, I intend to make their lives miserable, difficult, and outright dangerous until they form the kinds of bonds that will make this work possible. I will watch them like a hawk, every step of the way. I will weed out the weak. I will punish those who falter. I will ensure that when we make our move against the Vristok, it will be one strike, one kill, one end to this endless war.
* * *
Sophie
He’s crazy.
He’s utterly crazy.
I’m sitting in my room in the house that used to be silent, but is silent no more. There are men here now. Vadim says there are fewer than twenty extra people, but the way they bang around it sounds as though the house is inhabited by stampeding elephants. I’ve yet to meet any of them. I don’t want to, in case some of them are Vristok in disguise. I’ve refused to come out of my room at all since he told me that he was sending for strangers. We would have argued about it, but I haven’t had a chance to have that argument yet.
The house vibrates with masculine energy. I can practically hear the war drums, and I don’t know how to feel about that. I thought I would control Vadim because I bought him, but the truth is, I haven’t been in control from the moment those cuffs were taken off his hands. He rules my world now. He decides what happens to me, and to those around me. He has become master of this house, and I don’t know if I mind. That might scare me more than anything, the notion that I could just... let him be in control.
I don’t like being alone though. We were inseparable before he decided to go off on this crusade to protect me, and I’d rather be curled up in bed with him watching the Vristok test my defenses, than sit here alone with this horrible stomach-curdling tension at the idea of fighting them.
The hours are long, and my worries grow with the passing of every minute. Vadim doesn’t know what he is doing. He is going to get me killed. He is going to get himself killed. This house is going to run with blood and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The worries whirl around in my head, growing with intensity and outrage until it is all I can do to contain them.
The door opens, and I explode.
“Where have you been?” I snap the words as he walks in, and the smile fades from his face, immediately to be replaced with that dark growling visage I so often see when he thinks I am being too haughty.
“I have been assembling my men.”
“You’ve been playi
ng with your new friends, you mean.”
I know I am being bitchy. I don’t care. I want him with me. I want him next to me. I want to know where he is and I want to feel the kind of safety I only feel when he has me wrapped in his arms. But instead of saying any of that, I’m fighting with him, because that’s easier.
“I do not play, girl,” he growls, advancing on me. “I am mounting the offense that should have been mounted generations ago. I am doing what the men in your family should have done.”
“You’re doing exactly what a lot of them did,” I shoot back. “They all died. All of them. The Vristok isn’t just some gang you can get into a turf war with. They’re an ancient order of very powerful people. My family isn’t at war with them. We’re not fighting them. We are their prey. They don’t just kill us. They sacrifice us.”
He lets out a curse under his breath and reaches for me, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me close into a kiss that is passionate and deep and carries just a hint of warning.
“Have some courage,” he says, breaking the kiss. “I have looked into these men. They are not as powerful as you believe. You are a toy to them, but I am not going to let them play with you anymore.”
“I don’t want my house filled with strange men.”
“This is the one place we can train men, and this house was made with a small army in mind. There are barracks, did you know that?”
“Of course I know what’s here, but...”
“No buts,” he says firmly. “I’m not discussing this with you. I’m telling you.”
He’s so fucking arrogant. He got a little comfortable, and now he thinks he owns the place, as well as me. I think it is about time he remembered that I’m not locked in here with him. He’s locked in here with me.
I hit a switch next to the bed. It is disguised as nothing but decoration, but it immediately activates a secondary door that slides down over the door he just walked through, sealing us in.
“What is happening?” He gives me that dark emerald look of warning.