by Sarah Cole
Marcus meets my eyes, seeing my grief and somehow understanding me just as he always has.
He chimes in. “Henry, maybe Carter has a point. Anika is brilliant, and lethal. I mean, she managed to singlehandedly uncover an entire network of crimes – foreign and domestic with all the major players. None of our agents could do that. Not to mention, we never caught her, never had any idea of who was doing our dirty work for us. She could be an asset.” Henry only nods as if to take it under advisement.
A text alert interrupts the tension in the room.
“Got her,” Marcus says, already heading for the door. “They’ve got her just off Lander Street. She was last pinged by the Industrial District. Looks like Harbor Island. Carter, you can ride with us, but you have got to stay in the car. We’re not done talking,” he says and the three of us rush out of the house and into the black four door Ford. Marcus begins to rattle off the coordinates as Henry types them skillfully into the custom GPS.
The only thing I can do is hope my girl can hold her own until I can get to her.
Anika:
I park my Ducati on the outside of the chain link fence. Back in the place where it all began so many weeks ago, I pull the external hard drive from my bag, and walk to the gate where I enter the code that was given to me. The metal creaks and groans as it slides in its tracks and I walk through, not bothering to avoid the murky puddles in the gravel lot.
The large door to the warehouse slides open and Braxton walks outside. His usually cocky expression is gone, and has been replaced with something much worse. Fear. He whispers something to me, but he’s still too far away for me to hear. I don’t want to give anything away, so per the usual, I school my face into a mask of neutrality and continue forward. He shakes his head slightly, and this time only one word comes out and I hear it loud and clear.
“Run.”
I begin to turn and do as he says, but a single shot rings out, echoing off land and metal and I hear a soft splash behind me. Turning I find Braxton face down in a puddle at my heels, the blood from the gaping hole in his head, already staining the ground beneath him. I’ve dreamt of doing that a million times, but seeing it happen only fills me with unease.
“What? Not even a scream or a shocked gasp?” A smooth voice calls, and it isn’t long before I spot its owner.
“I wasn’t much of a fan,” I call, looking down upon Braxton’s lifeless form. Something inside of me flip flops, and I push the fear down, trying to ignore it.
Lance Jennings casually walks out in his designer suit carefully adorned with an American flag pin on his left lapel over his heart and a shotgun slung over his shoulder as if it were an umbrella. He sees me eyeballing it. “I’m an avid outdoorsman. Did you know?” he asks like it’s a joke. His cold gray eyes study me like I’m his next favorite toy.
“Oh, you do look like your mother. Pretty little puppet.” he steps closer, and I study him back.
“What the fuck do you know about my mother?” I ask him in Russian, and his eyes twinkle. They fucking twinkle in excitement.
“Oh, your mother and I go way back. Didn’t you know? Your mother was one of my whores,” he says casually in Russian, as if he’s discussing the weather.
“That isn’t true.” I switch back to English. I refuse to believe it.
“How do you think she got into this country, Anika? Through the network I helped to build, and your father took her away from me. She was always a little prudish, so it was probably for the better even though I loathed your father for losing me one of my top earners. I must say, it was fun watching him rot in fear for years, but that’s neither here nor there. I want to discuss you. Walk with me.” he starts to move and stops when I don’t move with him. “Or if you wish, you could end up like your friend, Mr. Fortner here. But I have bigger plans for you, so please, walk,” he says it as if I have an option. I place one foot in front of the other. I could reach into my shirt and put a bullet in his brain, and I should… I want to, but the curious part of me needs answers to all of the questions that have been burning inside of me. The main one… why? Part of me knows he’s telling the truth. The way my mother would pray for her sins put everyone else to shame, and I want to cry for her and the sacrifices she had to make. It helps me understand so much more about my parents and put those pieces back into place that never made sense.
I follow him into the warehouse, memorizing the locations of the men that are strategically located around the room.
“Search her,” Lance says and two severe looking men descend upon me, patting me down. Immediately they find my gun, and although I knew it was coming, my heart sinks. They thankfully don’t check the insides of my boots. One gets a little grabby, and I lash out, landing an elbow to his nose, spewing blood everywhere. He backhands me across the cheek, sending a white-hot pain through my skin.
“Maxim. Control your temper and keep your hands to yourself,” Lance says with an air of boredom. I hand the other man the drive with all of the files on it, and he stares at it like it’s a bomb – which in hindsight wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.
“It is what I’m here to deliver, dumb ass,” I say and he sends me a menacing look and passes it along to Lance.
“Good girl. Glad to see you held up your end of the bargain. I like that.” he hands it off to another man. “Plug that in and make sure we have what we need.”
The men release me and I step forward. “Let’s sit.” Lance gestures towards a shitty folding table and chairs. The kind of cliché thing you see used for poker games in the back room of a mob operation.
“I have a proposition for you,” he states, and I feel my eyebrows raise. He doesn’t exactly seem like the type of man that is willing to strike a deal on any terms other than his own.
He continues when I don’t say a word. “Ah, the silence. You must get that trait from your father. Your mother was more of a talker if I remember correctly.”
“Go fuck yourself, Jennings,” I spit, and he chuckles.
“You remind me of my niece, Lennon. She likes to talk back, but she wasn’t as feisty as you.” he says, and I vaguely remember digging something up about his niece Lennon aka, Leni Taylor Collins. She lived with Lance for most of her adolescent life, but ended up marrying the lead singer of some metal band a few years ago. From the research I’d done on her, she is completely detached from him in every way. Smart woman.
“What is your proposition?” I ask with overly sweet sarcasm.
“You work for me, and I contract you out to my various teams as needed. We could use your skills,” he says in all seriousness, and now it is my turn to laugh.
“That’s a hard no from me.”
He stands from his seat across the table, circling it until he’s towering over me, leaning down so close I can smell his spicy scent mixed with cigar smoke. He reeks of money, control, and narcissism.
“I don’t think you have a choice, my dear girl. The way I see it, it is this, or you can follow in your mother’s footsteps. Would you like that? Go back to our mother country and get fucked just like your whore of a mother?” he grabs my hair roughly, and I punch him right in the base of his throat. He lets go of me and coughs, but the look of fury burning in his eyes might only match my own.
“You will pay for that,” he seethes between coughs.
“It seems that I’ve already paid enough, wouldn’t you think?”
“It was business.”
“Business? IT WAS MY FUCKING FAMILY! You ruined my life,” I explode, pushing up from my chair as I stare eye to eye with Satan himself. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you? How long I’ve waited to hear what your final words would be? Why would you think that I’d ever work for you willingly? You’re a monster.”
“And you’re not?” he questions.
“I am a monster, and it would do you well to remember that,” I seethe.
“We’ve got everything we need, boss,” the man calls from the corner where he’s plugged in the d
rive.
“Let’s go,” Lance says, and the men begin to move. Everything happens quickly and with practiced skill as two men flank me, and take me by the elbows ushering me towards the back of the building where a fleet of blacked out SUV’s sit in wait.
Thinking quickly, I bend at the waist and back step, effectively removing myself from their grip, and I shove my hands into the sides of my boots grabbing each of the matching blades by the handles and swinging up catching them both in the throat with the blades. Their blood flows in hot rivers over my hands before I can retract the blades. Their looks of shock mirror Lance’s as he turns towards the commotion.
“Fucking hell,” Lance curses, and another man stands off with me, waiting to strike. He’s able to dodge my blade and land a solid blow to my jaw, causing me to only waver slightly. Unable to get close enough to land any hits I slide my knife down in my hand, raise my arm, and with a lightning quick motion I throw the knife catching the guy right in the tender part of his stomach. He lets out a howling pain, and just as I am about step up and finish the job, I hear a click behind my head.
“Drop it,” Lance says in a deathly calm voice. The second knife clatters to the concrete floor, and as I slowly turn, we hear police sirens and the faint thumping of air, as a helicopter approaches overhead.
Before we are able to even make a move, someone yells, “FBI, freeze!”
No one freezes. In the scramble, Lance grabs me, still with a gun to my head and pushes me towards one of the SUV’s. I hear gunshots behind me and yelling. I reach up, grabbing Lance’s arm and I twist, but it isn’t enough, and I can’t get to the other knife that is still in the strap inside my boot. The door opens and I’m shoved inside. I land a few kicks, and maybe a punch or two, and don’t stop until I feel a heavy blow to the back of my head that sends my world spinning.
“SeaTac,” I hear Lance say, and then I drift into the dark.
Chapter seventeen
CARTER:
“Stay in the car, Carter,” Marcus gives me a look, but I know he knows I’m not staying in this God damn car. I watch as teams of trained agents enter the building, and not far off, I hear the haunting music of multiple police cars as their sirens blare in tandem. I am about to follow along, but out of the corner of my eye, I see a large black SUV kicking up dust on the service road.
“Marcus!” I yell and he stops dead, hearing my panic. He looks to where I’m pointing, and says something into his collar as he sprints back to the car where I’m standing. Without hesitation, we both hop in and peel out, racing alongside the SUV, only a narrow channel of water separating us. I can’t describe it, but I know in my gut that Anika is in that car. I can feel it.
In the side mirror, I see several police cars following along with us in pursuit and up overhead there are helicopters circling.
“Good eye, Linwood,” Marcus compliments, never taking his eyes from the road.
“I just want to get my girl back.”
“I’ll do what I can, but you know I can’t make you any guarantees.” He says, shaking his head as if it is already a lost cause.
“I know, but I will not stop until she’s back where she belongs.”
“I believe that.”
I never take my eyes off of the speeding SUV, so I see everything happen like a slow-motion action sequence. A grouping of police cars has come from the other direction and have blocked off the narrow street ahead of the car. The SUV brakes to avoid hitting the blockade head on, and turns sharply. The force causing the top-heavy SUV to tilt and tumble onto its side before sliding down the steep embankment and into the water filled channel below.
Marcus stops the car and we both fly out running down the street to where the SUV sits partially submerged with only the driver’s side sticking out. The driver’s door opens and a man dressed in black combat gear emerges.
“Get on your knees! Put your hands up!” Multiple officers and agents shout and the guy seems to accept that he’s surrounded and does as he’s instructed.
I keep going despite the shouts for me to stop and I slide down the muddy embankment, and hear someone behind me, but I continue on, hoisting myself up onto the tire, and opening the door. Inside, Anika lays face down against the door, her face in the water that is slowly creeping in around the door frame and Lance Jennings looks like he’s knocked out cold against the center console. My heart hammers in my chest as I slide inside easily and lift her up, brushing aside her dripping hair.
“Ani? Baby. I’ve got you.” I feel for her pulse. I find it easily in her neck- strong and steady, and I feel nothing but relief. I hear Marcus outside calling for me.
“Yeah, she’s here. Jennings and Anika are both unconscious,” I call out to him and I hear him calling out to someone in the distance.
“Do you think you can lift them out?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I respond.
So, focused on getting Anika, I don’t notice the gun until I feel it firmly placed against my head.
“What are you going to do, Lance? Or should I call you Vladislav?” I ask and he lets out a low laugh that sends chills down my spine, but I continue.
“You’re a smart man. You have to know that this vehicle is surrounded by the police and officers from several government agencies. It’s the end of the road.” All I can think of is strangling him with my bare hands. It’s all I’ve wanted for years, and I now understand Anika a little more. The need and the desire to kill is consuming. I’ve wanted this for so long, and he deserves it. I need to do it for me and for Anika.
Before I can overthink my move, I turn suddenly, catching him off guard, but he’s much stronger than he looks. Having more room between us, he has leverage to his advantage and he launches himself at me. I struggle for the gun in his hand, but I’m set firmly in its sights. I try to shift its focus, but when it is planted firmly against your forehead it is hard to do.
“Why?” I grit, glancing to Anika, as she sits up silently with a look of horror painting her face. I realize it might be the last time my eyes ever trace those sharp features and see how her dark hair makes the blue of her eyes almost glow. This is how we end. This is all we were meant to do in this life- bend until we break with no chance of ever putting ourselves back together.
“Because I always have a plan. It’s how this all works. You are all here for me to use. Surely you understand that by now. Nothing happens without me knowing about it. Nothing happens unless I want it to.” he smiles, and his teeth smear with blood from where his lip is split, causing him to look like the vile creature he really is.
“Plans change, motherfucker,” Anika says as she seems to conjure a knife out of nowhere and plunge it into his back. Lance pulls the trigger, the shot firing inches from my head into the leather seat. I manage to pry the gun away from his fingers as Anika plunges the knife in again and again with an uncaged fury. His blood is flying, spattering from her rage.
“Ani,” I say calmly, and she pauses, ready to strike again. “You can stop. You don’t have to kill him, baby,” I say and her face crumples in devastation. She reaches up with a bloody hand to wipe away the tears, smearing a trail of red down her cheek. She looks savage and disturbed, but covered in the blood of our common enemy, she’s never looked so beautiful to me.
“But he has to pay…” her voice breaks and she sniffles.
“And he will. I promise you, he will,” I say, giving her a promise I can keep.
“I think he may already be dead. I finally killed him,” her voice shakes as she drops the knife. I reach forward and feel his pulse as the blood begins to trickle down his neck. It’s definitely weak, but it’s there.
“No, baby. You didn’t. You didn’t kill him,” I soothe and she crawls her way over to my outstretched arms. I pull her close, breathing her in. She smells like home.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, clinging tightly to my shirt.
“Where you go, I go. I told you that we’d do this together.” I say, smoothing down he
r matted hair.
“Carter?!” I register Marcus’s yells as he calls out to me, and I come to my senses, realizing he’s been calling for me for a while.
“We’re ok, but Jennings is going to need medical assistance now!” I yell.
“Let’s get you out of here.” I release her, and hoist myself through the open car door, and holding out my hand to her. She takes it willingly despite the fear in her eyes.
With our bloodstained hands interlock, I pull her out to face the world together.
Anika:
“Until the world burns down around us.” Carter whispers in my ear. My words on his lips, make me smile.
“Until the world burns,” I confirm as I take in the swarms of police officers and agents that have us surrounded. The lights are blinding in the fading light of day.
Carter only let’s go of my hand for a moment to hop down from the side of the car, splashing in the knee-deep water. He holds out his arms and I jump as he lowers me softly to the ground, placing a soft kiss on my lips.
Immediately no less than five police officers move towards me.
“Anika Rose Borkova, hands up, get on the ground slowly. No sudden moves,” one of them says, approaching me slowly as if I’m a wild animal. My eyes flash to Carters as panic begins to burn through my system. His worried eyes meet mine, but he nods reassuringly.
“I promise you’ll be ok. One way or another. I’ve got you,” he says quietly backing away. I’m patted down thoroughly, and I feel the cold snick of handcuffs around my wrists. I knew this was coming one day. I knew it would be this or a casket, but it doesn’t help as the cold reality begins to set in.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning,” another officer reads me my rights as he carefully lifts me off the ground.