by Via Mari
Dereck and Nate are walking toward me, and I take a deep breath. Things will be fine eventually, but it won’t be today, that’s for damn sure. My phone buzzes and I read the text from Jay twice. Fuck!
Message: Intel intercepted a message. Interpol is infected and pulling Scottie in rt now.
I text a message back as quickly as my fingers can type.
Reply: Marenah went with Scottie. They just lifted off in a helicopter, 5 mins out.
Message: I’ll interface with intel. Get your asses on the Augusta. Pilot’s ready.
I race toward Dereck and Nate. “Let’s go. They’re pulling Scottie and Marenah in,” I say, and they don’t ask any questions, just turn about face and hightail it with me to the beach. “The silver Augusta,” I say, knowing Jay wants us on that one because it’s one of the fastest helicopters in the world, and it’s armed and dangerous. We haven’t even reached it before the pilot’s got the blade’s whirling in anticipation of our ascent, and it takes less than a minute for all of us to haul our asses in and Dereck to heave the door closed.
“Go, go, go!” Nate yells to the pilot, and in seconds we are ascending and on our way, flying by all the helicopters and drama on the beach below, and looking for anything suspicious as our intel teams try to determine where to send us.
It feels like hours until Jay texts.
Message: Give me a call.
Fuck! This can’t be good. I push Jay’s button. “Matt, our intel team has a lock on an Interpol-registered copter. It’s just recently landed on a satellite ship. You’re close! We believe Scottie and Marenah went aboard. The helicopter they were on was Interpol’s, so you have to know, whatever is going on is at the hands of Interpol,” Jay says.
I nod, knowing exactly what he’s telling me. “Jay, I won’t bring trouble to Chase and Brian’s door, but I won’t leave her to deal with this. She did everything she could to save those people, not knowing Scottie was on our side. I’ll send a text to Chase and Brian, letting them know I’m resigning. Nothing will blow back on them. Just have the Augusta drop me within distance from the boat. I’ll take it from there,” I say, texting both Brian and Chase that I am resigning, before heading to the back to snatch a set of wet gear from the racks. I don it and turn, my eyes going wide as both Dereck and Nate don suits of their own.
“We heard, and we go in as a family,” Dereck says, and Nate nods.
My chest tightens, and all I can do is nod as the words of appreciation and love for these men catch in my throat, because I know what they are gambling with. If the Italian Mafia, or Chase or Brian, for that matter, don’t approve of their alliance with someone who has resigned, they will be out of the family with a snap of a finger, and we all know it.
The pilot lets us know when we’re at our drop, and one by one we hit the water and silently move toward our mark, finally reaching it and making the climb up the ladder in silence. We slink along the walls of the boat until we reach the lower level undetected. No sign of anyone else on the ship.
We know the drill, scanning the area, taking in the four suits and the captain that we’ve all been warned about, but my eyes home in on my beautiful princess sitting in a chair next to Scottie. The men split into two groups, one walking toward Scottie and one toward Marenah on the pretext of taking them and corroborating their stories.
If they get them split up, we all know what will happen. These bastards play for keeps, and as if sensing my presence watching her through the wall venting, she turns and her lips shift into a little scowl. If they’re going to keep from being separated, it has to happen now, and I nod to the men to get ready, we’re going in, but my princess picks that moment to take a sip of her coffee and it falls from her hand, splashing everywhere. The man behind the desk jumps up to avoid getting a lap full of the hot liquid.
She leans down, and all hell breaks loose as she comes back up with a gun pointed at the captain’s face, and Scottie turns, holding off the others. Nate and Dereck are first into the room, taking them by surprise and easily overpowering two of the men, with Scottie holding them at point until they’re done securing them. The two that were going after Marenah turn, and I kick the weapon out of one man’s hand and lunge for the other, but he spins out of the way, maintaining possession of his firearm.
He points it at me and gestures for me to drop my weapon. I don’t know how many men are on this ship, but the chances of them being friendly if they hear gunfire is not likely, and I’ll take my chances with these odds. I drop my weapon, and the minute I do, his eyes lower to it sliding across the floor, not anticipating the full-length kick of my foot to his chin. He reels with the force and I deliver another punch, this time to the nose, as Scottie reaches him and pushes the point of his Glock into the back of his neck. “On the floor, Lad,” Scottie says calmly, but I turn toward Marenah and my chest tightens hard.
The captain has managed to get the best of Marenah. Her gun lies on the ground, and he’s standing behind her with a knife to her throat. His walkie-talkie crackles, and he uses one hand to lift it to his mouth. “Land now,” he says into it and slides it back to his pocket.
Damn it, she missed her chance to catch him with one hand busy, but when he tells her to put her hands up, she gives me a little smile as I watch from my crouched position on the floor, just waiting for one chance to overtake him without getting her cut. Once that knife comes away from her throat, that bastard won’t have a chance in hell of making it off this boat alive, because no one puts hands on Marenah.
As soon as her hands go up, the captain places them on the top of her head and gestures for Scottie, Nate, and Dereck to stay on the far side of the room and kicks the gun across the floor. Once he does, he relaxes, spinning Marenah. Glaring at her. “You were given one assignment, keep tabs, not anything else, nothing! If you had kept your damn nose where it belonged, we would have been on our way and no one would have had any proof. Now you leave me no choice. You’ve seen too much. Say goodbye to your friends, and I’ll let Interpol know that you died putting up a good fight for their cause,” he says at the precise moment both of her hands come down hard, driving the razor comb set deep into both sides of his neck, opening his carotid, while her knee connects with his groin. His hands go first to his neck, grasping and gargling as he stumbles backward to the desk, and then begins to slump onto the floor.
“You just make sure you tell them who won,” she says, walking around the desk and opening it, taking out a plastic bag before grabbing the knife that has dropped to the floor and placing it into the bag. She walks over and hands that to Scottie.
“Nice work, Lass,” he says, taking it from her.
“Damn girl, you could rival Dereck here with those kung fu knife moves,” Nate says, and Dereck nods.
“Impressive work,” he concurs and nods toward me.
She was the one to walk away, and I’m not letting her do it again. I’ve made my decision: she means more to me than anything else. I stride toward her, and she is about to say something, but I take her in my arms and caress her neck, the creamy beautiful neck that could have been forever marred or worse, been sliced to still her beating heart. The thought alone sends a shiver down my spine. The very notion of her not being with me does the very same thing. I press one finger to her lips and bring her to me, capturing her lips with my own, holding the length of her body with my own.
I keep her pressed against me this way until the sound of the helicopter landing brings us back to the fact that Scottie’s not through with the mission at hand. “Let’s get the jackets and hats,” Scottie says, gesturing to the men on the floor.
Marenah and I gather our weapons and the walkie-talkies, handing them to Dereck and Nate as they finish dressing in the black gear the men were wearing.
“Hands behind your back everyone,” Nate says as the two lead us out of the cabin and up to the top deck. The wind is whirling around, and when Dereck and
Nate urge us into the chopper and we are in our seats, the pilot radios that they’re bringing back prisoners, but the Russian voice that replies causes the blood to drain from Marenah’s face.
Marenah
When I hear the voice of my grandfather’s right-hand man, the son of his best friend and second-in-command of the largest Bratva family in Russia, I cringe, because he’s giving the instructions himself, and they are clear: take us to the nearest drop point. This man will take over when my grandfather is ready to pass the baton, and while it’s never been a contract as in some families, my grandfather’s desire for either myself or Sasha to marry this man has always been known. I glance at Matt, Dereck, Scottie, and then Nate, but no one moves a muscle, keeping their eyes on the pilot and the destination.
“How much longer?” Dereck says.
“Why so anxious?” the pilot says.
“Get us there faster,” is all Dereck says.
“I’ll drop us in on the front side and have the guys take the packages inside,” the pilot says overhead, letting us know that we’ve got company when we land.
I open my palm and begin to draw out the letters to spell Bratva, and as soon as I get to V, Matt nods, turning his attention to the pilot and Scottie sitting in the front.
I do a mental check of the weapons we took back after the last encounter. A small gun tucked in my cleavage, a Glock in my back holster, and my knives of choice firmly placed back in my hair. Matt and Scottie are packing Glocks, and each has a gun on both calves.
The pilot begins the descent as we fly over the North Atlantic Coast, and a mansion comes into view. As we get closer my stomach dips. While I have never been here, I know exactly where we are. I’ve seen the pictures, one of the many homes of the Bratva, prestigious and always right out in the open as to throw a middle finger up at the rest of the world. Fuck you, catch us if you can!
When we land, the pilot turns from his seat and gives us all a once over and opens the door before gesturing for us to do the same. Dereck and Nate do a good job of keeping the charade of us in capture as they pull us down and onto the deck below.
The pilot jumps down last and walks past us and toward the man that I’ve known for a lifetime. “I’ve been instructed to hand the prisoners over to you. We couldn’t make the shipment work. This cyka got in the way, everything for naught,” he says, backhanding me across the face after calling me a bitch in my own tongue. I reel with the force, and as I look up, Matt has him in a headlock and is no doubt about to squeeze the life out of him—when Kroskov aims his gun and pulls the trigger.
I scream as Matt and the pilot go down, and rush to Matt’s side as Dereck, Nate, and Scottie draw on Kroskov. Matt pushes back against the pavement, shoving the shot pilot from atop his body, and stands up, scrutinizing the scene playing out before us as he comes to stand beside me. “I’m not hit, Marenah,” he says, holding me close as my body trembles with the fear of almost losing him and what’s yet to come.
Kroskov walks toward us, his gun to his side as the guys relax theirs as well. “Marenah, your grandfather sent me. He’s had word from Giovanni Larussio that you were in harm’s way and asked me to assist. I came myself when I learned of the situation and how brave you were. There were two more men in the house awaiting your arrival, and they’ve been dealt with,” he says.
Matt walks up to Kroskov and extends his hand. “Thank you for what you did for Marenah.”
Kroskov looks him up and down, a towering bald-headed, tattooed, and formidable Russian. “Yah, it is done. Now, I need a private word with Marenah,” he says, and I lay a hand on Matt’s shoulder as I sense him tense beside me.
“It’s okay, he is a friend of the family. If he were going to kill me, it would be done,” I say, walking alongside the giant until we reach the front of the mansion.
“Let’s go inside while they clean up the mess,” Kroskov says, opening the door for me and guiding me into the great room where he picks up a decanter, pouring us each a shot of vodka.
“Drink in celebration. You have done much good tonight, Marenah, but there is much you don’t know and, this thing, we must clear the air between us.”
“I knew Grandfather was having me followed, but thought I got rid of the trails.”
“Marenah, do not ever underestimate the reach of your family. It would not be advisable. Your grandfather has known about your interactions with Interpol since you signed with them last year. Do not take what I’m going to say out of context, but there was a reason, other than your amazing marksmanship, that they wanted you on their team. A faction within Interpol wanted guilt to point in the direction of your family, and what better way to do that than to have you part of the inside. We know your heart was in the right place, but when you applied, it was like a bonus for them. All they had to do was walk away and let you take the fall if something went wrong,” he says, pouring another vodka.
“How are the Larussios involved in all of this?” I ask, holding out my glass, silently asking him to pour me another, too.
“The Italians and our family may not agree on everything, but we both agree that we will not allow the trafficking of human lives in our countries or waters. Giovanni is next in line to take over the Italian Family. It seems your boyfriend’s security team saved him and his great-uncle’s life. They are honorable men and tend to pay their debts,” Kroskov says.
I nod, not fully understanding the connection, but know enough not to ask too many questions in these matters either.
“It was foolish of you to join Interpol. You are talented, but the conflict of interest remains. It is insurmountable, and you will leave your grandfather with little to no choices.”
My temper rises. “What, the choice to kill me or those that I work with?” I say.
“Marenah, do not test me. I have it on good advisement that you only joined looking to get more information on Bernatelli from Chicago. We will do, what they say in America, a compromise. I will tell you what it is you want to know, you will never speak of it to anyone, especially your grandfather, and then you and I will go our separate ways,” he says.
“Wait, what about my grandfather’s wishes? You and I both know he believes we will be together as soon as you are ready to take a wife,” I say.
“Da, it is true, but you are spoken for, and I do not ever intend to take a wife. The work we do is too dangerous, Marenah,” Kroskov says, pouring himself another vodka.
“You are serious,” I say, walking toward him. This man, the one that I have known since a child, the one that will take over the entire Bratva at some point in the future, ruling and governing what does and does not go on in our country.
“I am serious. You are free to explore a relationship with the gentleman outside. If he’s not the one, you will have any future prospect cleared by the family. Understood, Marenah? This is not an option. There is too much at stake, as you’ve learned this evening. Our family and families like the Larussios try to govern as we can, but with that, brings threats.”
“I understand and thank you, Kroskov,” I say, the emotions of the day and the reality that I have my life back with choices suddenly overwhelming me. I throw my arms around my old childhood friend and hug him tightly. He kisses me on the top of the head, and I sink into his strength, relieved that my entire family and everyone I care about will have this fair and honorable man at the helm of our family one day, when Matt walks into the room.
Matt
Marenah walks away with the Russian, and I take a moment to glance down at my cell phone as incoming beep after beep distract me. Text after text, first from Chase, then from Brian, and another multitude of strings from Jay.
Message: Resignation denied. Family first.
Message: Resignation denied. Family first.
Message: Resignation denied, Chase called in a favor with the Larussios. By the time you get this message, things should have been sor
ted. All things, including the conflict you thought may have existed with Marenah. No issues. I’ll leave you to take care of Marenah.
I glance up at the three men standing around waiting for me to say something, but there is a lump in my throat that keeps me from saying anything for a few minutes. Nate seems to notice and breaks the moment. “Just reading the texts from Jay. Thought we were going to get our asses handed to us, and instead he’s giving us all three days off with pay. He wants us to stay in the city for dinner tomorrow night,” he says.
I nod, still too choked up to speak in sentences. “Roger that,” I say, walking by them and through the door to find Marenah. I know she said she’ll be fine, but I have a grave need to see that for myself after all that has transpired. I make my way through the foyer and down the lit hall and into the great room, to find her wrapped in the hulky arms of the tattooed bastard with crystalline blue eyes.
He lifts his eyes to glance at me and then turns her head to face him. “Be well, do as I’ve asked, and make sure you stay in touch this time.”
He turns and addresses me. “Giovanni Larussio wants a blessing by the family for your relationship. After what you did tonight, I concur. If she chooses to be with you, then you have the family’s blessing. Know that it comes with a death sentence if you ever hurt her in any way,” Kroskov says, stepping away from Marenah without as much as a handshake to me.
He’s an intense fucker, but if he thinks he’s calling the shots where Marenah is concerned, he can think again, but I do know there is a fine line of trust and hate between all the families, and I’m not foolish enough to disrespect that right now. If there comes a time, I will, but not now.
“Thank you,” is all I say as the formidable Russian turns and walks out of the house.
I take her hand, and the magnetism between us is palpable. All I want to do is take her in my arms and hold her, but I can sense the hesitation and uncertainty swirling in her eyes. “What is it, Princess?” I say, reaching out to stroke her cheek and push a strand of long blonde hair that is covering her face behind her ear.
