Saving Anya

by Nelson, Latrivia

  “So, what do you want me to do with him now, Papa?” Anatoly asked, while looking at the man. He put the phone on speaker so that Upheil could hear his fate.

  “Make a very clear, very repulsive statement of this worthless motherfucker for me. Burn his house to the fucking ground, kill all of his men and leave him mutilated and unable to be put back together. I don’t want his family to be able to do anything but cremate his remains. I want my calling card left for any and all who dare look to see that I want my fucking daughter back, and I’ll do anything to get her. You hear me?” Dmitry growled.

  “Da, da, papa. I hear you,” Anatoly said, hanging up the phone.

  Gabriel walked back in the room with papers in his hands and looked over at Anatoly. He had heard his uncle on the phone and knew that they were in the clean-up phase now.

  “You heard the old man,” Anatoly said, standing up. “Let’s make a mess of this fucker.”

  “Please,” Upheil begged. “I have contacts. I can be useful.”

  “Save your breath,” Anatoly said, pulling the trigger. When the gun went off the bullet went straight through the seat and Upheil’s lap, blowing off his coveted jewels.

  Writhing in pain, he screamed out but was unable to even grab himself, because Iyana had tied him so securely. Before he could take another breath, she stepped in front of him and returned the kindness that he had given her earlier. With a balled up fist, she punched him directly in the eye.

  Anatoly smirked. “Is that all?” he asked her.

  “I can do more?” she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “You can do whatever you want,” Gabriel said, popping the clip out of his gun and chambering the round. He passed her the Glock and stepped back. “Hit him with the butt of it and save your little fingers the work.”

  Anatoly took the papers from Gabriel and sat on the bed to read the names of the people who had bid on Anya while Iyana dealt Upheil one amateur blow after another. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There were so many names, some of which he knew – people who hadn’t bothered to help his father but had taken time to help steal from him.

  “After we get Anya back, I am going to visit each one of these people personally,” Anatoly said, passing Gabriel back the papers.

  “You and me both,” Gabriel said disgusted. “I couldn’t find Balthazar’s information.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The tech guy can find anything.”

  Upheil’s front tooth fell on his lap with Iyana’s last blow, snapping both of them out of their thoughts. They both looked over impressed at how the young girl had finally started to work him over.

  “Alright, playtime’s over. Let’s finish this up,” Anatoly said, standing up. He pulled the knife from his hip pocket and moved Iyana out of the way. “Go in the bathroom and bring out all of the towels and any chemicals you can find in there,” he told the girl.

  “If there is a hell, Upheil, we’re about to send you to it,” Gabriel said, building up the nerve to pop his cherry.

  Anatoly raised his hand at his cousin. “I’ll do this one; you’ll get your chance soon enough.” He knew how delicate this situation was for Gabriel, and although it was important for him to enter into the brotherhood through blood, he figured it best to allow the man to choose his first one wisely. At least, Anatoly had killed his first man out of rage for the letch trying to sleep with his little sister.

  His father had killed his first man when he was fifteen after the guy pulled a gun on him that hadn’t gone off, but to kill a man just because he was ordered to seemed to be unfair in this situation.

  Gabriel didn’t argue with Anatoly. Instead, he took the towels that Iyana had brought out and placed them on the floor under Upheil.

  Upheil continued to beg. “Listen to me,” he insisted. “I have millions of dollars.” The blood poured from his mouth from where Iyana had beat him brutally. He spit out a mouthful of red saliva and looked up at the men out of the eye that had not been beaten shut. “I am worth more alive than dead to you.”

  “Save it,” Anatoly huffed. “If my papa says that you die, then you die. It’s just that simple. Plus, you’re a raping, child molester. Name one instance where that is beneficial to anyone. You’re a sick fuck. You deserve to be dead.”

  “Amen, brother,” Gabriel interrupted.

  Upheil couldn’t argue, but he tried. “I have many friends. Someone will avenge me?”

  “Who?” Anatoly asked, toying with him. “Tell me their names so that I can go and kill them now.”

  The room was silent.

  “That’s what I thought,” Anatoly smirked. “It’s always the same thing with you fuckers, regardless of if you’re rich or poor. You want to make a deal to save your own miserable life, but you never want to admit to what you’ve done to get yourself in this situation in the first place.” He shrugged his shoulders in frustration. “And why would I let you live, huh? You were taking bids on my baby sister!” He kicked the chair, sending the man to the floor on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Anatoly leaned over him. “How do your balls feel now? Oh, that’s right, I just blew them off! I’m sure you feel like shit right now, but trust me. It’s going to get a hell of a lot worse.”

  Chapter 16

  At the crack of dawn, violent winds and heavy rains were already beating against the Prague countryside with raging ferocity. Dark clouds covered the sky preventing any sunlight from shining, and according to the national weather bureau there were reports of snow for late in the evening. That meant that Dmitry would need to develop a new plan for his teams to leave the city on time for their other trips tonight.

  It all added up to more gloom for their home, instead of cheer. This entire place from sunrise until late after the sun had set was normally full of life. The aromas of hot, fresh breads coming from the oven and the smell of pine and oaks being polished, the sounds of laughter and chatter were all gone.

  Now this massive home was a place of worry and pain, void of Anya’s infectious behavior and her fun-loving attitude. Her small voice was disappearing and with it any joy that the family might have had.

  Dmitry watched the storm from the windows of his study as he fed Maxim his morning bottle and thought for the millionth time of Anya. He had to step away from the computer for a second. Tired from looking at the council members’ various banking accounts to see who might have been low on cash, who maybe had spent large sums recently to start a war or someone who may have received large sums for giving sensitive Intel on his family. So far, there had been nothing. The council was clean, but maybe when Gabriel came home he could dig deeper and find more.

  Dmitry prayed again that Anya was safe and that the kidnappers had not brought her any harm. But in all, with all the money that he spent so far on the campaign to get her back, with the hits that he had put out, it still wasn’t enough. He felt completely helpless and vulnerable for the first time in his life and he hated himself for it.

  He looked down at his innocent son’s face and stroked his cheek. The small figure in his arms had barely cried since they had brought him home. It was like the child knew that something was wrong in their home and did them all a great favor by not putting up too much of a fuss.

  Everyone was doing what they could, even the babies.

  Max as Dmitry called him was the smaller of the two boys by almost five ounces, but he had a mighty spirit. He was always smiling and looking, exploring the world before him. Konstantin, however, preferred his crib to being picked up. He could console himself already and didn’t need as much attention. And it seemed that the boys had also picked their favorites.

  Konstantin seemed to favor Royal more where Max favored his father.

  So much had changed in their lives so quickly. This was supposed to be great. This was supposed to be a wonderful experience for them all.

  Anya had fallen in love with them the moment that she laid eyes on them, and if he had just allowed her to stay at home on Monday instead of going
to school, then they’d all be right here together. Safe.

  No matter how he looked at it, he knew that this was his fault. He should have had more security for her; he should have homeschooled her; he should have protected her.

  “Dmitry,” Royal said, watching him from the entry of the door.

  He turned to her, eyes still ablaze. “You’re up,” he said, wishing that she’d stayed in the bed to get a little more rest.

  “I need to fix breakfast for everyone. Renee and Briggy are going to help.” She walked up to him and put her head on his abdomen. Putting a small finger on Max’s nose, she smiled.

  “It’s good to see you do that again,” Dmitry said gratefully for her smile.

  “They have a way of making even the worst situation just a little better,” Royal said, wiping a tear. “Any word?” She silently prayed, even as she asked.

  Dmitry hated to be the bearer of bad news. “Not enough to be hopeful about. It seems that the key to all of this is guy named Balthazar.” He avoided telling Royal that her daughter was currently being bidded on; instead he focused on the positive. “Every man I have has been working on tracking him down since last night. We’ll find him. And when we find him, we’ll find her.”

  Royal went to his chair behind his desk and sat down. Putting her hands together, she exhaled and closed her eyes. “This is torture. Wondering if she is okay, if she’s hungry, if she’s being…abused. The only comfort that I have is that I know that she’s still alive because I can feel it.”

  “It won’t benefit them in the least to hurt her,” Dmitry said, putting Max in an upwards position to burp him. He placed the bottle on the table. “She will come back to us safe and untouched.” Inwardly, he prayed that he was telling her the truth.

  Royal wanted to share her other concerns with Dmitry, but she could see in his eyes that he was already near the breaking point. It was best for her to just leave him alone and allow him to cope in whatever way was reasonable for him.

  Sinking down in the chair, she glanced across the desk to see a picture of Dmitry and Anya leaning over the hospital bed with her and the twins. “Why is it that I wasn’t prepared for something like this? I mean, you and I have gone through so much together. Why did I think that we were above this?”

  “Because you are supposed to be.” Dmitry put a hand on her shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking right now. And I can’t say that I’m not thinking the same thing, because I am. We have temporarily lost our daughter, and we have permanently lost one of my dearest friends because of it.”

  “It what?” she asked confused.

  “My ego. If I had not gotten so relaxed and had such a big ego, then I would have realized how open to attack we were out here. I just got used to playing the part of daddy and husband and failed to remember that I’m still more than anything a Vor. And with that title, I’ll always have enemies.”

  Royal felt bad for him. “Dmitry,” she squeaked with a frown. “You are so much more than that. This is not your fault, but it is something that you have to fix.”

  “I will fix it. The first drop has to take place tomorrow. I plan to know who I’m dealing with by tonight.”

  The idea of that brought Royal hope.

  “When was the last time that you slept?” she asked, concerned with the dark circles under Dmitry’s deep set eyes.

  “I’ll sleep when she’s home,” he said avoiding telling her the ugly truth.

  A hesitant knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Royal and Dmitry both looked over at the door. Every knock, every phone ring, every second was filled with hope and anxiousness. Any one of them could be the answer to their prayers of bringing their daughter back home safely.

  “Boss, there is a man at the gate,” one of the bodyguards said through the closed door.

  “Who is he?” Dmitry asked, clicking on his monitor to find the channel for the front gate.

  “His identification says Agent Langston. He said he was a friend of yours from Langley,” the man answered.

  Dmitry passed Royal the baby when he saw the man’s face over the monitor. “Here, take Max,” he told her quickly.

  “Who is he?” Royal asked, taking the baby.

  “CIA,” Dmitry answered, walking to the door. “I’ll be back - hopefully with some good news.”

  ***

  When Langston and his men arrived at the front doors of the chateau after their short ride up from the gate, it wasn’t a maid or butler who answered but Dmitry. With guns in his holsters and two men behind him, he guided the agents directly to his seating room, skipping all formalities.

  Taking a seat on the sofa, Langston crossed his legs and looked around the room. “Nice digs,” he said with a smirk. He smacked his gum to the point of irritating Dmitry, who finally passed him an ashtray and insisted quietly that he spit it out.

  “What do I owe the pleasure of the CIA’s company?” Dmitry asked flatly.

  “Before we start, my friend Richardson has to use the restroom. Do you mind? It was a really long drive out here,” Langston asked, motioning at the older white man who sat to his right.

  “Actually yes, I do mind. He can hold it,” Dmitry said nonchalantly.

  “Well, that’s rude. I thought you were royalty or something for goodness sake,” Langston mocked.

  “You’re confusing me with my late ex-wife. And there is no way in hell that I’d let one of your spooks roam through my house unattended.”

  Langston touched his black heart. “I’m hurt, considering that we let you roam through our country for years unattended.”

  Dmitry wrinkled his nose. “You’re also running out of time, so get to it.”

  Just then Royal walked into the room, fully dressed and escorted by Renee holding one baby and Briggy holding the other.

  Royal had never once in their entire marriage interrupted a meeting at his home. Her presence threw him off guard.

  “Baby, what are you doing?” Dmitry asked, urging her in his own way to leave.

  Royal ignored his cue. “I’m putting myself in the loop,” she said, walking into the room with a silver service of tea and cookies and placing it on the coffee table. Sitting down beside Dmitry, she crossed her legs and nodded. “I need to be a part of this. She’s my daughter, too.” Her voice pleaded and at the same time demanded his support.

  Dmitry had his reservations but understood. “Fine.” He turned to Renee and Briggy. “But you two need to leave….now.”

  Langston put a finger up in the air and the other hand over his tie. “Before you do…go, Renee congrats on the baby,” Langston said, waving at her. “I’m sure that Anatoly will make a great father. Where is he this morning by the way?”

  Royal frowned. Pregnant? Her mouth flew open, but she quickly shut it.

  Briggy did the same.

  Renee was too lost for words to speak. She froze like a snapshot. No one knew about the baby but her, Anatoly, Dmitry and the doctor. And she doubted anyone of them had said a word. She looked to Dmitry for direction and explanation.

  “Ignore him, Renee. Take the babies, please, and leave us to talk,” Dmitry interrupted. His patience grew shorter by the minute.

  Renee moved slower than Briggy, who was used to taking orders from Dmitry and had already disappeared beyond the doors a few steps ahead.

  Alone again, Dmitry turned and gave Langston an admonishing stare. “Speak now or leave now. It’s your choice, Langston, for the moment, but in just a second, I’m going to throw you out on your ass.”

  “You want to discuss this in front of your wife, Chloe or Royal? What is she going by these days?” Langston asked Dmitry without looking at Royal.

  “Mrs. Medlov,” Dmitry said, standing up. The muscles tensed in his shoulders like he was preparing to pounce on all three men.

  The sight of him - tense and unreadable - clearly made Langston uncomfortable for a minute.

  “Okay, okay.” Langston cut his games short. “I’m here to help you, Dmitr
y. I know that Anya has been abducted, and while I don’t have a location yet. I do have a name and some pertinent information that might be directly related.”

  “And what the fuck does the CIA want for this information? Nothing comes free,” Dmitry said, sitting back down.

  “You’re right there,” Langston chuckled. He paused, and the agent beside him pulled a file from his briefcase and put it into Langston’s manicured hand.

  Langston dangled it like a carrot on a stick. “You’re aware of the Krysykstonia situation, right?”

  “I am,” Dmitry answered.

  “Well, in exchange for the information that I give you, I need the dictator, Berkovich, to have an accident. As I’m told, he’ll be traveling through Belarus in two days. You have a significant presence there. If he were to not return to Krysykstonia due to a hit by local thugs while during his stay, then the people of the country he’s currently holding hostage would be very grateful. Think about it. They could have open elections, practice their religions freely, be allowed the liberties that have been taken away from them.”

  Dmitry sat quietly for a minute rationalizing his options, while Royal sat horrified by the men’s exchange. She had never in her life laid eyes on a CIA agent, and now she was actually listening to an assassination plot take form. Her heart skipped a beat in fear that he would turn it down.

  On one hand, by doing this, Dmitry could potentially save their daughter, and on the other hand, if he did this, he would be upsetting an entire country. However selfish the desire, she wanted nothing more than the dictator’s head, if it meant getting Anya back alive and safe. But only Dmitry could make the call, because only he could fulfill the bargain.

  She looked up at her husband in amazement of the choice that he had to make under such extreme pressure. But in his normal way, he looked back down at her with a cool exterior, barely even changing his breathing pattern.

  “Well now, I have a few other things that I’ll require if I am to do this for you,” Dmitry said in a flat monotone. He turned his attention to Langston, who sat patiently waiting.