Kings and Sinners

by Alta Hensley

  “She’ll be fine,” Anson assured him as they approached the car. “I’m sure Jennie and Adira have filled her in on not only why we left but also relayed the information about Sophia.”

  Stryder forgot the heat as he stopped in his tracks. “Shit, I was going to tell her myself, not have my dirty laundry aired by Jennie.”

  “Relax, you know Jennie. You couldn’t pull a secret out of her if you tried. I’m not talking about your past. I’m just talking about her sharing what everyone already knows.”

  It took another moment but then Stryder nodded and resumed walking. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am, little brother,” Anson said, “I’m the smart one, remember.”

  “Smart ass, you mean. You’re barely a year older than I am,” Stryder said, stepping around his brother to bend as he slid into the car, giving an exaggerated moan of approval that had nothing to do with the soft leather seats but everything to do with the air conditioning that was going full blast.

  Once the others were inside and the doors closed, the driver said in an extremely thick accent, “Mr. Nazar would like you to meet him at the docks. He said to send his apologies for not greeting you in person, but he is busy with preparations.”

  “That’s fine. Take us to wherever he wants,” Drake said, sitting back and looking completely at ease.

  The drive to the marina was just long enough to cool down, and when the water and row after row of yachts came into view, Stryder actually wished for a longer time in the car. Reentering the scorching heat was not on the top of his list. The crystal-blue of the ocean had never looked more inviting.

  He was a bit surprised when their car didn’t head towards the water but instead turned down a narrower road.

  “I thought Hadi said the dock,” he said.

  “He did, but I’m guessing he doesn’t mean those out in the open. Maddox and I used the dock down this road,” Drake said.

  Stryder knew his father trusted his old friend implicitly, which did help calm Stryder’s nerves a bit. He hated not knowing every single detail of a mission he was involved with, but he didn’t have much of a choice when it came to this one. After all, both his pops and his brother had been in Dubai not that long ago.

  Their car pulled up and joined four black SUVs that were parked. When they exited the car, Hadi Nazar stepped from his own, with all of his highly-armed men surrounding him. Stryder hadn’t seen fire power like that since the military. The impressive display made him feel as if they were going to war. Which, in all reality, they were.

  “Gentlemen,” Hadi began with a slight bow of his head. “Let me first apologize for having you meet me here. But there was no time to waste.”

  “What is this all about?” Drake asked, scanning the area as everyone else was also doing.

  From what Stryder could see, they were secure. They’d driven away from the open and though he guessed the wooden pier could be considered a dock, as he saw a few boats tied up, none looked like they belonged to one of the wealthiest men in the world. There was no one nearby. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be ambushed at any second. He wouldn’t put anything past Vasily Poplov now. Hell, the man might even know they were in Dubai, although it was highly unlikely since they had left the States immediately, flown private, and didn’t tell a soul.

  Hadi gestured to the boat bobbing in the water. “If you’ll board?”

  Stryder followed his team aboard the rather dilapidated looked vessel. Once everyone was on board, he realized that not one of the bodyguards had joined them. Instead, they were tossing off the ropes that had been wrapped around cleats on the dock.

  “Are they taking another boat?” he asked.

  “No,” Hadi said, nodding to the only stranger among them, who stood behind the wheel. “I’ve got men stationed everywhere but only as a precaution. I don’t expect any trouble… well, none that I haven’t orchestrated, that is.”

  Stryder saw that his father didn’t appear concerned and decided to let things play out as they would. He kept his eyes moving as Maddox and Hadi spoke quietly about Adira. It wasn’t a conversation he’d expected to hear in the middle of a mission, but it did manage to relax him. If the news that Zephyr’s first time being put to stud had him soon to become a papa was the most important piece of information that Maddox had to offer, his brother couldn’t be too worried about danger. Looking at Anson, he saw him grin. “How can you be so relaxed?”

  “Sit down and chill,” Anson said by way of answer. Once Stryder dropped onto the shabby bench seat, Anson nodded towards the pilot. “Notice anything?”

  Raking his eyes over the man, he said, “He’s armed. So what, we knew Hadi wasn’t coming to the game empty-handed. I’m guessing that bag is full of guns.”

  “Though I’m sure you’re right, that’s not what I meant. For a boat that looks like it should have sunk years ago, listen.”

  Stryder did so, and what he heard had him turning around and looking towards the stern. “No way that engine can put out that much power.”

  “Nope, I’m betting there are others below the waterline. There hasn’t been a single stutter, a moment’s hesitation, and the pilot is not expecting any, though he knows that Hadi is on board. So, relax and enjoy the ride. At least we’ve got a breeze off the water.”

  “It’s still fucking hot,” Stryder said but finally relaxed. His eyes kept sweeping but now he was looking at the scenery. “I can see why they built this city. It’s gorgeous.” It wasn’t until he felt the breeze against his face ebb that he looked back in the direction they’d been heading. “Why are we slowing?” he asked, rising to his feet, instantly feeling the difference in speed beneath the soles of his boots.

  Soon they weren’t moving at all, simply bobbing on the water. They’d traveled down the inlet and were at the mouth of the gulf. Hadi pointed out to sea. “See that yacht out there with the three flags hanging off the stern?”

  Stryder and the others squinted against the sun as it lowered into the horizon. There were several ships out at sea, but the yacht that Hadi pointed to was the closest to shore, a fair bit smaller than the rest, and still clearly much larger than their boat. Its white color made it easily visible to the naked eye despite the waning daylight. Each man nodded when their vision focused on the boat.

  “Vasily Poplov, twelve of his best men—two of which are Mikhail Sokolov and Nikolai Orlov—and one beautiful woman who we now know helped run that sickening slave auction—Katarina Petrova—loaded the boat an hour before you landed in Dubai. Poplov’s sick entourage are all on that yacht having a nice meal with two real shit heads from my own country and their own men. Even the crew are monsters and have worked with the worst of the worst. Not an innocent floats on that sea. Right there, my friends, is a floating vessel full of disgusting and vile creatures.”

  “So you wanted us to meet you here so we can give them a not so friendly greeting when they return?” Anson asked.

  “No,” Hadi said, shaking his head, yet a small smile grew on his face. “I could have had my team shoot each one of those sorry excuses for men one by one as they loaded. I’ve stationed snipers on every rooftop since this morning.” His gaze turned to Maddox. “Including your friend, Mr. Westwood.”

  “Keith’s a good man,” Maddox said, his old army buddy having helped them the last time the Steeles had been in Dubai.

  Hadi just nodded and continued. “If I wanted them dead by gunshot, they already would be. They would have all been full of bullet holes before they even knew it was coming. And let me tell you, watching Poplov board that boat through my binoculars, it took all my might not to order the execution the minute I saw his big blue eyes.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Anson said. “Give us guns, and we’ll be glad to join your boarding party.”

  Stryder saw his brother’s eyes dropping to the black bag but then turned back to Hadi, who took the time to look each of the Steeles head on. “I know each one of you would like to personally
kill Vasily Poplov with your bare hands. I’m sure my granddaughter and that poor girl Zoya would, as well. There is no question that the hatred for this man runs through us all. I didn’t bring you here to put your lives in danger. You risked your lives for my family. All of this began with me. This man declared war on me and my family, and I will have the final blow. Could I allow someone else to handle this? Yes. Will I? No. I must have my revenge. I must be the one to end this all.”

  “Hadi…” Drake began, giving his good friend a suspicious look. “What plan do you have in store for Poplov?”

  Hadi smiled. “Revenge. Revenge for blowing up my family.”

  Stryder looked back at the yacht, then at Hadi, starting to understand what the man was hinting at. “You said you’ve had snipers stationed all day. How long have your divers been in the water?”

  “Not quite as long, but long enough,” Hadi said, not appearing surprised at the question.

  Stryder nodded. “What made you think that Poplov wouldn’t make sure he didn’t get on a boat… a yacht no less, without making damn sure there were no explosives aboard?”

  “Oh, I knew he’d check,” Hadi said with a grin. “In fact, he evidently didn’t trust that his hosts had checked, though they had… twice. Poplov didn’t step a foot out of his car until the divers checked a third time. My divers watched each sweep. The moment the other divers climbed out of the water and Poplov was positive he’d be safe, my team began to attach the explosives to the hull. The yacht is nowhere near the size of the Adira but I guarantee, it will suffer the same fate.”

  Hadi chuckled and crossed his arms against his chest. “My friends, I could not do this without you being here, for you deserve to see this as much as anyone. However, I do hope you don’t mind that I took matters into my own hands. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, and I am ashamed at how many lives I have taken. But today… today I take the lives of all those on that yacht with pride and satisfaction. In just a few minutes, revenge will be mine.”

  No one spoke as they watched the yacht slowly fading from view as the sun sank below the horizon. When the pilot lifted the bag, passing it to Hadi, Stryder knew he’d been wrong. He wasn’t sure what was in the duffel, but he knew it didn’t contain the guns he’d believed to be inside. Though he didn’t hear the engine, he felt the boat begin to move. Hadi opened the bag and removed several pairs of binoculars, handing them out.

  Stryder was about to lift his pair to his eyes when his attention was captured by the next item Hadi pulled from the bag. A black box.

  “You have more of those?” Maddox asked, obviously identifying the box as a detonator just as Stryder had.

  “No, and whatever you do, do not engage the night vision on your binoculars,” Hadi said and then returned his focus to the yacht. Suddenly his instruction became clear as the darkness turned into day as a strong spotlight shone across the water from another boat, bringing the yacht into clear focus. The Steeles watched as men rose from where they’d been sitting around a table, the binoculars allowing them to see glasses and plates as the group were obviously in the middle of dinner. A sharp squelching sound had Stryder glancing at Hadi to see that he had a megaphone at his lips.

  “Vasily Poplov.” The words were loud and said with a tone that sent chills down Stryder’s back. He looked back to see the Russian whip around, obviously confused as to why the call had come from a different direction than the light. When he actually pulled a gun, Stryder chuckled. There wasn’t a chance in hell any shot fired would reach them, especially as their own boat was shrouded in darkness.

  “Shall we show the bastard who will be sending him straight to hell?” Hadi asked, not waiting for a response as he nodded to his man who flipped a switch to light their own deck. Stryder watched as Vasily’s mouth opened, his eyes going wide, obviously recognizing not only Hadi but the Steeles. God, Stryder wished he could have just one shot at closing it for good. He might not be able to punch the guy, but he did have a hand. Lifting it, he gave the asshole the universal “fuck you” salute.

  “For my family,” Hadi said, and a second later, an explosion of epic proportions rocked the sea.

  The white yacht with the three flags was nothing but a huge ball of fire. Flames, so bright they dimmed the spotlight, shot into the air. Stryder watched as glass shattered, shards glittering for an instant before falling like rain into the ocean. What parts of the boat didn’t burn in the inferno were blasted out to sea. Nothing, and definitely no one, survived. The moment the spotlight was shut off, so was the light on their deck, the only illumination left was from the fire which was quickly growing smaller as the sea began to extinguish the flames, just as it had done months ago when the Adira had exploded.

  Stryder didn’t have to see to know that Hadi Nazar had fought fire with fire. Or better yet, explosion for explosion. Total annihilation. Some people might have called Hadi’s actions vigilantism, others revenge. Stryder and his family knew it for what it was… justice. Vasily Poplov was dead.

  Chapter 18

  “Zoya, you’ve got fifteen minutes. We’ll be on the back porch.”

  Though Zoya had moved from the door to the window, standing to the side and watching the Steeles climb into the truck, she didn’t have trouble hearing Jennie’s voice. The woman might be older, but she had a way of speaking that commanded attention even when she wasn’t on an intercom system. Giving the driveway one last look, she turned and stepped to the closed door.

  “No thank you, Jennie, I’m tired…”

  “It wasn’t a request; it was an order. Fifteen minutes.”

  An order? Who was this woman to give her an order? Remembering something Maddox had said, she was about to respond that Jennie wasn’t the boss of her, but instantly felt ashamed of that thought. The woman had been nothing but kind to her… a stranger, a foreigner her boys had brought home like a stray dog. And not a dog who could pay for her keep by guarding her family but a cur who had absolutely nothing to offer and who had caused nothing but trouble. Her eyes slid to the window again. Because of her, every Steele on the ranch had just left. Stryder had left. He was gone, so locking herself into her room was no longer required. Sighing, she went into the bathroom.

  Make that a mangy cur, she thought, catching her reflection. Her hair hadn’t been dry when she’d pulled it into a loose ponytail and it was now tangled from slipping free of the rubber band and having her fingers shoving through it to keep it off her face. Her face was puffy, her eyes swollen and itchy, her normally pale complexion was blotchy and her nose was red. Turning from the sink where she’d planned on just washing her face, she opened the taps in the large shower and stripped out of her clothes. Stepping into the stream, she simply stood, her face lifted, allowing the hot water to flow over her. It was only the fact that she didn’t have much time that kept her from slipping down the tiles to sit on the floor… that and the knowledge that there would be no one to pull her to her feet, no one to wrap their arms around her, no one to simply be there with no motive other than to comfort. In other words, no Stryder. When fresh tears began to fall, Zoya shook her head. The shower wasn’t helping, and thinking of Stryder was definitely not good. In fact, the very fact that she had isolated herself wasn’t calming her… it was giving her mind nothing to consider except for the last conversation she’d had on the same porch where Jennie was expecting her.

  She dried herself, including her hair this time, and pulled on a sundress before remembering that her sandals were still in Jennie’s garden. Reaching for her running shoes and socks brought back the memory of the last time she’d worn them: the run, with Stryder pounding behind her, his breathing growing labored, and yet he never asked her to slow or stop, knowing she had to run. When she’d reached the lake and stripped off her clothes to walk nude into the water, again he’d not said a single word and yet had known exactly what she was praying for. The way he’d lifted her, held her as they made love… Fuck! Throwing the sneaker in her hand across the room, she watc
hed it bounce off the wall. She had to stop thinking about Stryder! Barefoot, she unlocked the door and went to obey Jennie’s order.

  Zoya wasn’t surprised to find Adira with Jennie as she stepped out onto the back porch. What did surprise her was that both women were holding glasses filled with a burgundy liquid that looked suspiciously like wine. The moment Jennie saw her, she set her glass down.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out,” Zoya said, the words instantly reminding her of making the same promise to Stryder. Shit, would everything she said, did, or thought remind her of that man for the rest of her life?

  Jennie just smiled and reached for a bottle, pouring some into a third glass as she said, “Child, I’m not the least bit concerned about you ratting us out. Wine is made from grapes and grapes are full of sunshine and nature’s goodness.”

  Not much of a wine connoisseur and preferring the favorite beverage of her native country, Zoya still accepted the glass.

  “Sit by me,” Adira said, patting the wooden slats of the swing. Zoya forcibly pushed the memory of Stryder sitting there earlier aside and sat. Once she was settled, Adira pushed against the porch to set them in motion. It took a few sips of the wine and the continual gentle sway of the swing before Zoya truly began to relax and yet her mind refused to cooperate. With a sigh, she looked at Jennie.

  “I’m sorry about hacking your onions,” she said.

  “Is that really what you want to discuss? Gardening?” Jennie asked.

  The question threw Zoya and when she didn’t immediately respond, Jennie shrugged. “Well, we’ve already discussed the benefits of grapes, and I planted an abundance of onions, so shall we consider that subject closed?”

  “Um… I guess,” Zoya said. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

  “How about we discuss what happened between you and Stryder?” Jennie suggested.

  “I’m trying not to think about him.”

  “And how is that going?” Jennie asked, taking another sip from her glass.