by Jack Parker
Emery's throat constricted slightly and he cleared it, trying to find words. He hadn't expected that sort of declaration. He was totally overcome.
Kurt sighed. "But I understand. I understand if you need to think it over."
"…Think what over?"
"Whether or not that's truly the sort of man you want to love. The sort who has to borrow his morality from you because he hasn't got any of his own."
Emery blinked repeatedly in surprise. "I…"
Kurt nodded and kept his eyes low. "You haven't got to decide straight away. But know that I'll respect whatever it is you choose. I do respect you. Greatly, I—"
"Stop!" Emery snapped, finally finding his voice. He growled in frustration, reaching out and grabbing Kurt's face in his hands. "I love you. I don't have a choice about it, and even if I did I would choose it again and again—I don't need to consider that for one miserable bloody second! I wouldn't have come halfway across the world on the slight, fragile little whim you might be here if I felt any other way. Oh, darling…"
Kurt seemed to buckle in relief. He leaned forward and hugged Emery hard. "Please forgive me. We are partners, please, don't say that we're nothing, I can't bear the thought."
"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I don't care what you consider me just so long as I'm yours." Emery clenched his eyes shut.
Kurt shuddered. "I was an idiot. We both know that you're the one doing the babysitting. That I'm the one who can't make it without you, not the other way around. Look at all you've done without me while the only thing I managed to do was go all to pieces. You had no idea where I was, if I was alive or dead, and you battled all the odds to triumph. In the meantime I had the assurance of your safety as far as I knew it and I could hardly keep it together. You were wrong. We are not equals, Emery. You far surpass me. God, I missed you so much…"
"No, no, don't be ridiculous. You're my champion. The only man I've ever met strong enough for all you've been through. If my compassion's rubbed off on you then it's your impeccable strength that's rubbed off on me and it's all that got me through. Oh, I love you dearly, Kurt."
"I love you back," Kurt responded vehemently.
Emery shut down for a moment in Kurt's embrace, content with just quietly reabsorbing all he had lost this past month and a half. He was so grateful. How stupid that they'd managed a fight. But the tension had to break somehow, and there had been a damn lot of it, so in a sense it was a great relief that it had at last occurred. Emery recomposed himself and slowly pulled back, keeping his hands at Kurt's shoulders. "We've both done terrible things, you and I. Things we can't take back. Things that better men would and should condemn us for. But there's hope for us now, you realize."
Kurt met his eyes solemnly without understanding.
Emery sniffed back the tears that continued to threaten breaking the surface and swallowed, fixing his expression into determination. "We can stop him."
Kurt's face showed obvious resistance.
"Kurt," Emery said, clutching at the shirt over his shoulders. "Running away didn't do us any good before. We can't leave the mess we've helped to create hoping that someone else will come along and clean it up. This is the only way to find any shred of redemption. This is the only way to close our book…so that we can truly start a new one."
Kurt took in a deep breath and sighed, bowing his head in defeat before giving a single nod. Emery pulled him roughly back into his arms.
Chapter 22
It had been several months since Kurt had worked with Emery in a professional sense, but it felt old and familiar and easy as they geared up to meet Ludkov the following morning. Georgie was making coffee on Victor's request while the three men sat at the table trying to get a handle on the discussion that was about to take place.
"Who's gonna ice Ludkov if you don't?" Victor asked, redressing some injury to one of his legs as he spoke.
"That's unclear," Kurt replied. "But it won't be a novice."
"Are you sure anyone'll even take your place?" Emery asked, still scruffy and in his sleepwear as he ate a bowl of cereal, the only one among them who hadn't bothered to get ready yet. Just like home. Kurt felt warm and fuzzy just looking at him, but stowed it away. "I mean, Thompson might realize you'll have tipped Ludkov off. Can't have it quick and quiet now."
Kurt shook his head. "That won't deter him. It'll just alter his plans slightly. Before he opted to take out Ludkov alone, but with discretion being foiled he'll send a specialized crew for slaughter, killing all of his men along with him. Beletski won't like it, but he'll take the loss if it means his hands stay clean."
Emery made a face. "Why is it so important to kill Ludkov, anyway?"
Georgie answered that question as she brought coffee over to the table. "Because his influence is longstanding. His reputation widespread. And his distaste for the Dutchman makes him an upstart—Beletski won't want that attitude affecting the other brigade captains in his scope. Killing Ludkov outright wouldn't sit well with his brethren, and may make them nervous. It's got to be dressed up."
Emery took the cup handed to him and frowned. "And what's Thompson going to do once he's got all the Russians on board?"
"Inject himself into their ranks like a disease until he's choked out every potential source of internal loyalty, then absorb what's left of them into his own. The man is a scavenger of human scum," she said, handing out a mug to Kurt. Kurt stared at it for a moment, then looked back to her coldly, refusing to take it. She slowly withdrew it and pushed it instead to Victor as she sat down at the furthest end from him.
They all looked up as a knock sounded at the door. Victor visibly bristled, turning to Georgie. "You expecting company?"
Georgie tossed him a glance before getting up and pulling her gun, walking to the door. She quickly thrust it open, gun jammed gut level to whoever was on the other side. It turned out to be a young man Kurt didn't recognize. Lanky and doltish with dark hair. "Hi."
Georgie pursed her lips. "What are you doing here, Dave?"
"I-I came to talk to Mr. M," he replied.
"Who?" Georgie sneered.
Emery put on an exasperated face. "In here."
Kurt stared at him curiously for a moment and Emery gave him the sort of gesture that indicated it was either too long or too frivolous a tale to explain.
Georgie raised an eyebrow but let Dave pass. He came in, hands in his coat pockets, and Georgie immediately set about frisking him, much to his obvious discomfort. She took his gun and stepped back. "Hey, that's mine," Dave remarked, looking miffed.
"You can have it back when you go—what did you come here for?" Emery demanded.
Dave shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Mr. Ludkov sent me to retrieve you. He just moved shop, see, and since you don't know where he's at now it's up to me to show you."
Victor snorted. "And you're the one he decided to send?"
Dave nodded, then paused. "No, I said I'd do it. I work for you, remember? I figured it was my responsibility."
Emery sighed. "Right, well, we're just having our breakfast. Come on and have a cup of coffee."
Dave obediently came and sat down. He glanced around the table until his eyes met Kurt's, then he stretched out a hand. "Hi. I'm Dave."
Kurt stared at him hard.
Dave shrank back and swallowed, nervously settling into his seat.
"Are you saying that Ludkov's moved his entire operation?" Georgie asked as she approached from behind.
Dave shook his head. "He shut it down. For the time being."
Georgie considered this before going to retrieve another cup. "That's playing it safe, I suppose."
"I dunno what's goin' on. Everyone's in a fuss. All just packed up and scattered to the wind yesterday. Everyone's supposed to be regrouping at a safe house up town in half an hour. That's when he wants you all there. Thanks." Dave took the mug Georgie was handing to him and instantly spilled some down his shirtfront taking a drink.
Clearly Ludkov's
quality of staff had seen a decline in recent years. Kurt turned back to Emery. "Convincing Ludkov to pander to Hennessey is no easy task. It'll have to be approached delicately."
"He's got no other allies to rely on," Emery pointed out. "The way I see it, all that's changed is the number of enemies Ludkov and Hennessey have in common. He's surely desperate by this point."
Kurt shrugged a shoulder. "You'd be hard-pressed to bring a man like Ludkov to desperation. Like all men of his profession, he's married to his pride and unafraid to die."
Emery took a long drink and thought, tapping his fingers on the table surface. "Ludkov's got to have something to live for. Family, prospects, something we can use to convince him to cooperate."
"Revenge," Georgie supplied. "That's all he's got. His known family is dead, but he was at the top of his game before this. His power and his name are all he has. He'll be glad to snuff out whosoever is responsible for taking it away from him. I think he'll agree to an alliance with Hennessey more easily than you expect—but he isn't the problem. The problem is Hennessey. From his perspective he gains nothing by helping out Ludkov, excepting a great load of trouble for interfering with a Bratva hit."
"But Hennessey doesn't know that both the Russians and the Dutchman are about to wage war on him," Emery said.
Victor grumbled from across the table. "Hennessey's a stupid fucking blowhard. Even if he did know he was about to get his fat ass handed to him he wouldn't condescend to working with Russian riffraff like Ludkov. They fuckin' hate each other."
"Surely he can't be as pigheaded as all that," Emery argued.
Victor flipped up a hand. "You forget that this guy was friends with Sheridan."
Emery frowned. "Well. I reckon we'll need someone just as insidious and unpleasant as he was, then."
"Like who?" Victor asked.
Emery thought for a moment, then smirked, throwing a glance Kurt's way. "Like Charlie Price."
Victor's gaze shifted between them and he shrugged. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"
"My alter ego," Emery clarified. "Look, is there anyone else in this room that Hennessey doesn't already know?"
Dave raised his hand and Georgie helpfully yanked it back down for him.
"I've never worked for him, but he knows my name. And probably Kurt's," Victor said.
Emery nodded. "Alright, but I can convince him. He's the stubborn, volatile type, right? I've met plenty, but I got them all to take a shine to me one way or another."
"Hilariously cocky as that is, how would you even get close enough to him to manage that?" Victor downed the last of his coffee and stood up to go refill his mug. "And I don't see a guy like Hennessey getting all chummy with a jerk like you. No offense."
"Catch him off duty somewhere, that's how. He runs a gang of hoodlums. Shouldn't be too hard," Emery explained, moving to the edge of his seat. "I can do this. The selling is what I do best, remember?"
Victor was still giving an uncertain face.
Emery looked mildly frustrated, so Kurt cleared his throat. "He's the only one of us who can."
All eyes turned to Kurt.
He continued. "I've never seen anyone pull the acting bit like he can. I've also never seen a man foster trust and solidarity as easily with people he's only just met. Not to mention that he can give Hennessey's obduracy a run for its money." His eyes drifted to the man in question. "Emery is more than capable."
Emery's eyes were on him, filled with adoration.
Victor sat back down with his cup and huffed. "Okay, but this is assuming Ludkov will let Em run the show."
"He might," Georgie said. "He won't want to talk to Hennessey himself. Having Emery do it spares his pride."
"We're jumping the gun anyhow. We still have to get Ludkov on board with this idea in the first place," Victor reminded. "And a guy like him probably has his own plan already. Don't forget that he still outnumbers us and he can have us all killed if he decides he just wants to go out guns blazing."
Emery stood up in preparation to go get dressed and put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "It's a good thing that we're such a convincing bunch, then. Right, Dave?"
Dave looked up mid-sip, spilling another stream of coffee on himself. "Mm—right. Yeah."
* * *
Georgie opted to drive to Ludkov's new hideout herself, Dave in the passenger's seat giving directions while Kurt, Emery, and Victor sat in the back. Emery didn't know what would be in store for them when they next met Ludkov. Who knows what state the man would be in after having time to absorb the fact that his supposed allies wanted him dead? Perhaps he'd become unstable. Perhaps he'd go mad with vengeance. Or perhaps he'd be in denial, decide that Kurt was lying, and kill them all on the spot. They would be finding out shortly. He looked over at Kurt, who was staring blankly ahead in the seat next to him. Emery borrowed an old gesture and slid his foot over to rest on the top of Kurt's. He didn't look over, but visibly lost a bit of his physical tension.
It was a few minutes later that Georgie was pulling around a corner to the abandoned building block Dave was indicating. He was in the middle of directing when Georgie hit the brakes a tad abruptly, pausing for just a moment before she looked behind her and began backing the car up.
"What you' doin'?" Dave asked, looking around in confusion. "Den's thataway."
"Something's wrong," she replied tersely.
Everyone quickly went on alert. Victor and Kurt pulled their guns at either side of Emery and he hesitantly followed suit. "How can you tell?"
Georgie's voice was tight. "Vehicles. Unmarked and parked inconspicuously, but they're the Dutchman's. Not Ludkov's."
Dave sank down in his seat. "Oh Jesus, let's get out of here."
"Sack up," Victor ordered, kneeing the back of his chair roughly.
"We'll leave and regroup," Kurt said.
Georgie was already parking the car. "Like hell," she said before climbing out, gun drawn.
"Georgie, wait," Emery called, but she ignored him. He swore and undid his seatbelt before plunging out after Victor. Kurt immediately followed and Dave, for lack of a better option, went along with them.
They made it to the abandoned building by approaching it from its most crowded end, weaving through alleyways to come up on it in the eerie silence that hung about the outside. Whatever was going on here had quite clearly already happened. As they made it close a body could be seen at the entrance. One of Ludkov's thugs. Emery made a move to slip in first, but Kurt snatched him back, blatantly waiting for Georgie to make the first step. He didn't have to wait long. She didn't look back at any of them before heading in. Victor followed and Emery carefully pulled himself from Kurt's grasp before patting his chest and accompanying the others. Kurt remained to head up the rear.
Inside it was a complete mess. Bodies were everywhere, but three men milling about instantly drew their guns until they identified Georgie. Ludkov's men, luckily. They were taking inventory, scrabbling with one another in a flurry of curses, kicking at dead bodies to check for signs of life. Among them Eddie sat against a wall, hand on the bleeding bullet wound in his leg. Dave worked his way through the lot of them to spring over. "Eddie! You alright?" he asked, crouching down.
"Just peachy you gormless fuck," Eddie growled.
Emery wandered over. "What happened here?"
Eddie gave him a weakly defiant scowl but crumpled, shaking his head. "The bastard got the jump on us. We weren't here ten minutes before we got hit. Nearly took out the whole lot of us…"
"Aleksei," Georgie demanded.
Eddie jerked his head towards the back and she quickly made off.
Emery frowned. "Victor, you might see to the wounded."
"Fuck no, I don't even like these guys."
Emery gave him a disparaging look.
Victor hissed in exasperation. "As you wish, my liege. Hey you—dumbass. Come here." He beckoned Dave over, who floundered before obeying. "You know what a tourniquet is?"
Emery motioned for Kur
t to follow and hurried after Georgie towards the back. When he got there he took in the scene quickly. Georgie had stopped at the entrance of the room, gun down as she looked on. In the room there were more bodies. Ludkov was kneeling by one that Emery recognized as Yuri, his face severe and his shirt bloody, but didn't seem to bear any wounds to his person. Emery looked to Georgie before stepping forward. He knew it would probably be best not to say anything until he could gauge the man's state of mind.
Ludkov looked up after a long moment, eyes fierce. "It appears that you are late, yes? You have missed all of the excitement."
Emery wasn't sure that he didn't hear a thread of accusation in that greeting. He replied carefully. "I take it the Dutchman's already sent others to finish the contract."
"Da," Ludkov muttered, voice gravelly. "They did not succeed. But it was no small cost. They killed a dozen of my men. And Yuri."
Emery looked on at him and nodded. "My condolences…I'm sure he was a good man."
Ludkov chuckled darkly, slowly standing up and scanning the blood on his clothes. "No. He was not. But he was my friend." He wiped at his sweat-flecked face with the side of the hand still clutching his gun before setting his lionesque eyes squarely on Emery.
"How did this happen?" Emery asked.
Ludkov kicked at another corpse and huffed. "Five years ago these pathetic dogs would not have had the courage it takes to so much as set foot in my territory. That Dutch piece of shit has armed them with insolence. I am to be killed? This is fine. But too much I have sacrificed to be disrespected."
Emery glanced around the room. "How many men do you have left?"
Ludkov's face was stony.
"Come on, Ludkov," Emery prodded. "We're partners, remember? We aren't seeing the end of this alive without one another."