by Miranda Kavi
A vibration and boom rattled the ground beneath them and screams filled the air. An explosion. Sophia shuddered.
The car started up and they left; Dmitri and Sophia crouched out of view. Naomi sobbed softly in the front seat, bent over her knees.
“Maybe the country dacha. Send a scout,” Dmitri said to Gram.
Gram pulled out his phone and spoke in rapid Russian as he drove through the busy city centre.
Dmitri wrapped his arms around Sophia, pulling her close to him. She folded her legs underneath her so she could lean in to him. She shook all over, like a trembling, dead leaf barely clinging to a branch.
“You are frightened,” Dmitri said into her hair.
“What just happened?” she said.
“An attack. A coordinated attack with many men. Probably to kill me. Maybe you, too,” he said.
She leaned back so she could see his face. “What?” she gasped.
His face was stern, jaw set, eyes blazing. “The most brazen attempt in my career. I am sorry. It will not happen again.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I brought this on you.”
He stroked her hair. “This was big. Bigger than you. External.”
“Who? Tariq?”
He shook his head. “I do not think he has that much sway. I do not know, but when I find out, there will be bloodshed.”
“What was that boom? It sounded like an explosion,” Naomi said.
Dmitri nuzzled Sophia’s face. Long seconds passed before he spoke. “Probably a car bomb.”
“Your car? In the parking garage?” Sophia asked.
He nodded against her.
Oh, my God.
They’d almost just died.
She didn’t say anything, just curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, breathing him in, feeling him in this moment, grateful for her life.
Naomi eventually stopped crying. The car moved and moved, finally rolling to a stop after what felt like hours. Sophia laid across Dmitri, trying not to grip him too hard. She didn’t want to look out the window.
Finally, Sophia sat up. They were at one of the airports in a crowded parking lot, low planes rising in the air with a boom over her head every couple minutes. “Please, stay,” Dmitri said. His words carried more meaning, and she nodded to let him know she wasn’t going anywhere, now or ever. She would stay by his side despite the assassination attempt. She wouldn’t leave his side, no matter what.
He got out and walked away, smooth and confident like he wasn’t barefooted. Gram put his hands on the wheel, turning in the seat to scan the surrounding cars.
He ignored Naomi who was curled into a little ball in the corner. Gram didn’t have time to take care of her.
An old, battered, blue sedan screeched to a stop behind them. Gram stiffened until Dmitri got out and waved them over.
They all clamored in, this time Sophia in the front seat with Dmitri, Naomi and Gram in the backseat. Naomi’s face was still bright red, nose running. She leaned into Gram and cried as they drove away.
Dmitri drove in circles at the airport and then made an exit, heading out on one of the main roads. Sophia’s eyes drank in the exurbs dotted with trees and dachas, small, seasonal homes that many Russians kept.
Dmitri turned down two more barely there roads and stopped in front of a nice, small dacha with a traditional mansard roof and small neat boxed gardens in the front. Dmitri parked inside a battered brown barn behind it.
Gram jumped out and slid the door shut behind them and flicked on some lights. Sophia gasped when he did.
The barn had a concrete floor and loose hay like she expected, but it was also filled with shipping crates, many with guns slung casually over the top of them.
Dmitri left her and plucked up a large gun that was unfamiliar to her. He pointed it away from them and moved the slide forward and back. He dug into the open crate until he found a banana shaped magazine. Gram followed suit.
They began unpacking some ammo and loading it into the trunk of the car. Sophia helped wordlessly, carrying the heavy ammo boxes Dmitri pulled out. She actually felt better now that they were well-armed.
Naomi only shuddered again and pushed her swollen face deeper into her hands, like she could disappear if she kept crouching.
Dmitri did not speak, but he beamed, and she knew she’d made him happy. He jumped on the hood of the car and sat down. “We cannot stay here too long,” he said to Gram.
“I know. I will find a safe house.”
“Take her,” Dmitri said, nodding towards Naomi. He slid off the hood of the car.
Gram urged Naomi back into the car with whispers. She folded back in. He got in the driver seat and carefully backed out of the barn.
Dmitri and Sophia were alone again.
“Are you okay?” he said. “I need you to be okay.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “It is different with you here. I care more for my life, now.”
She smiled at him. “What is this place?” she asked.
He looked around them at the tall crates. “Storage.”
“Storage,” she repeated. “Where are all these things going?”
He leaned against a crate. “It is best if you not know these things. It was never my intention to bring you here.”
His gun was in his arms, a representation of his craft. She hadn’t seen him with a big gun since the day they’d met, when he pulled a gun on her and her ex-colleagues.
She walked over to him, carefully picking her way over the loose straw and muck on the ground. “You said I was your woman, that I was yours and you are mine. No more secrets. No more lies.”
He reached out to touch her face. “You are so strong,” he muttered.
“Not an answer.”
That made him smile. “Purchases I have made to keep on hand. They do not have a home yet, but they will soon. Light arms are always in demand.”
She nodded. “What’s going to happen to us?”
“We are going to find a safe house, and then I am guessing we will fuck again,” he said.
Sophia smiled a little. “How can you joke at a time like this?”
He pushed off the crate, his hard body sliding against hers. “Because it is always like this. This is all I have. Now is all I have.” He cupped her face. “It will get easier once I get the trash thrown out. I am sorry you have to deal with this.”
“I love you,” she said simply. She didn’t want to lie to him and tell him she wasn’t scared, because she was or that she was okay and settled with his life, because she wasn’t.
But she loved him. And she’d made her choice.
“Come.” He held out his hand. She took it, relishing the feel of his calloused large fingers. God, he was all man.
He slid open the barn door, poked out his head, and surveyed the clearing around them. It was dark, the sun a fading ball of light. A chill had set in, and it would every night for the rest of the year in this part of the world.
Once he was satisfied they were safe, he pulled her out with one hand, gun in the other. He made his way to the nearby dacha. The structure was simple and sweet, something that an upper middle income family might have.
He walked with purpose to the back door, dug around in some potted plants, and produced a key.
It was dusty inside, but neat, old fashioned, and well-kept with exposed piping, an old fashioned wood burning stove, and a picnic table in the kitchen.
“This is nice,” she murmured.
He said nothing, but continued through the sparsely furnished living room and into a small room with a double bed. He dug around in a wardrobe and produced a black duffel bag. He emptied it out, revealing a couple changes of clothes, shoes, toiletries, and small handguns.
It was an emergency stash. She wondered how many of these he had all over the world. She didn’t ask.
She just watched him seat himself on the creaky bed.
He redressed himself
and then picked up a heavy, gray sweater and socks for her. “These will be much too large. I would prefer you to be naked, but we are expecting company soon.” His lip quirked up in a half smile.
“You’re thinking about sex right now?”
He came close to her, pushing her hair over shoulder, toying with the collar of her too big sweater. “Do not blame me. I cannot help myself.” He tugged her sweater down, just enough to expose a few inches of flesh on her collarbone. “I will behave,” he said, his breath hot on her skin. “Just this once.” He pressed his lips to hers and then nipped her collarbone.
Hot damn.
Loud pounding on the door shocked her away from his warmth.
“He is here,” Dmitri said.
Chapter 16
“Who is it?” Sophia asked Dmitri.
“A man who will take care of our problems.”
“The ones where we get attacked in broad daylight at our hotel? One man can fix it?” Sophia said.
“Yes.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Stay.”
He pressed his finger to his lips and then left the room. The bedroom door faced the living room and front of the house. An old fashioned large keyhole below the bedroom door knob beckoned her. She crouched on the ground and peered through it. She had a bird’s-eye view of the front door. Bingo.
Dmitri checked the window before opening the door with the gun pointed.
“Terrible greeting,” the man said.
Dmitri laughed and lowered his gun.
The man strode in, every bit as tall as Dmitri. He was a thick wall of muscle, with short buzzed gray hair, and thick, plastic-framed glasses. His movements were smooth, precise. His eyes flicked around the inside of the dacha before resting back on Dmitri. “I didn’t take you for a country man.” He had no accent to her ears. Was he…American?
Dmitri shut the door. The man settled himself on the old blue couch. Only his legs were visible to Sophia.
Dmitri remained standing.
“Did this attack surprise you?” Dmitri said to him.
The man shifted on the couch. “It did and it didn’t. I tracked some chatter moving in from Asia and the Middle East. I didn’t think they would strike during the middle of the damn day,” he said.
“Clearly,” Dmitri said, his tone as chilly as a blizzard.
The man cleared his throat. “I’ve already made some…acquisitions. My men are working on him now.” He uncrossed his legs. “And some spouses.”
Sophia felt sick, and she clutched her stomach. Dmitri glanced back towards the door, as if he could feel her distress.
The man must have noticed. “Who is here?”
Dmitri didn’t answer. He walked towards the door. She jumped back, thumping her elbow on the wall behind her. She rubbed it, glancing up at him when he came in.
Dmitri cocked an eyebrow at her. “Please come meet him.”
“Okay.”
He started to walk away and then paused at the door. “Do not be fooled by his demeanor. He is a sick fuck, but I trust him to do what I ask.”
“Oh, jeez,” Sophia muttered under her breath. She pulled down the sweater so it covered her knees, feeling silly in her long socks and no shoes.
Dmitri was waiting for her in the living room. She walked in confidently and stood next to him. She raised her chin and met the man’s gaze. “I am Sophia, you are?”
The guy looked surprised. Both of his eyebrows rose above the thick rim of his eyeglasses. “Call me B,” he said.
“Like the letter B?” she said.
That made him smile. “Yes. I have no name.” He turned to Dmitri. “Who is this woman to you?”
“You will speak to me directly,” she snapped. “I’m not a decoration on the wall. I’m his girlfriend.”
B leaned back in the sofa, eyes dancing between Dmitri and Sophia. “Goddamn, you are perfect for him.” Some lilt of his speech changed, and she heard a hint of an accent. Australian? New Zealand? “I apologize.” The accent was gone, his voice in a different range now.
He could change his voice, tenor, and accent. He could be from anywhere. He could be from nowhere. Besides his rather relaxed demeanor and hipster glasses, she sensed the darkness, the monster within him.
“I wanted you to meet. B, you can trust Sophia. You are to let no harm come to her, at any cost. Including me,” Dmitri said.
The man nodded, folding his fingers together under his chin. “I understand. Keep my retainer full and your wish shall be granted.”
“Good. Find who came after me. Neutralize the threat.”
“What do I have pre-authorization to do…?”
“Everything. Anyone. If they have crossed me, they die.” Sophia forced her face to stay neutral, but she was chilled inside at his words.
“Anyone?” said the man. “I suspect some of your most…valued assets are problems. But there is more. International involvement. It will take some work.”
Dmitri gave one small nod. “Do it.”
“Yes, sir.” The man stood. “I will take my leave now.” He licked his lips. “So much fun, so little time.”
Dmitri waved him away. “Do not have too much fun. I will not clean up your messes.”
The man laughed. “But I never leave a mess.”
Then he was gone.
“Sick fuck,” Dmitri muttered.
“Fun?” Sophia said.
Dmitri nodded. “He loves torture. He loves killing. He bathes in blood. He cannibalizes his victims. He rapes their bodies.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my fucking God.” She hugged herself in her warm fuzzy sweater, feeling an arctic chill that had nothing to do with the coming Russian winter.
“As twisted as he is, he is loyal to me. And he will not hurt you, so fear not.”
She watched the man get in a white car and leave. “Why do you use such a man?”
“Because I do not have time to kill everyone that wants to kill me.” He parted the curtains and peeked outside. “Like any other business, I have to outsource.” He dropped the curtain. “This man and his followers will take care of this for us. It is done. That is how I do business.”
“I understand,” she said.
He turned to her, capturing her chin gently with his fingers. “Do you, Sophia? Do you really understand? I have to be ruthless or else you and I will be dead.”
She met his eyes. “Yes. I understand.”
He dropped his hand, sadness filling his yes. “Do you still want me?”
She grabbed his hand. “Yes. I love you.”
“Is it that simple?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Then I am happy.” He stepped away and pulled out his phone. “I must work. We have a lot to do. Why don’t you rest until Gram and that horrid woman get back?”
Sophia hugged herself. “You think she is horrid?”
“She is weak,” Dmitri said. “Not like you.”
Sophia sat on the small, rickety couch. “I don’t trust her,” she said.
Dmitri hung up his call mid dial. “Why?” He sat next to her on the couch. She was flattered he took her seriously.
“Women’s intuition. There’s something off about her.”
Dmitri nodded. “I know her father very well. He would not cross me.”
“How do you know him so well?”
Dmitri hesitated, shifting his position. “He is my ex-wife’s half-brother.”
Sophia reeled as she took that in. She had no reason to be jealous. Dmitri and his wife had gotten married very young and divorced a short time later, but she hated the thought of her being in his life at all. “Oh,” she said. “Did, you...um...see her while you were there? Do y’all like, run into each other?”
“No,” Dmitri said.
“Okay.” Sophia shrugged, trying to shake off how strange she felt. “I’m more worried about Gram with Naomi than anything.”
Dmitri offered a tight smile. “He is pussy obsessed, but he can take care of himself. It has been a long time
since he has shown an interest in anyone, so I am glad; although it is a great inconvenience to me.” He patted her leg. “Rest, now.”
She shook her head. “Can I help?”
He pushed his lips together, staring at her. “Not now.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “Go do your work.”
He left, pulling out his cell phone, pacing around the small living room as he made calls. He spoke in a clear, controlled manner, though she could tell from his stance he was very angry.
She had no idea how he ran a worldwide network. She had no idea of how many legitimate companies he owned. She didn’t know how many employees he had or how he paid them.
She really didn’t know much about Dmitri’s professional life. She listened to him speak in Russian on his call, tersely asking about a ship tracking system and cabotage routes. Then he made another call in Mandarin, she thought. She had no idea what he was saying.
As he spoke, he pulled a laptop out of the duffel bag and propped it open. Out next came an orange, sturdy shoe-boxed sized device. He flipped the lid open and left it on the table.
Once his phone call was over, he glanced up at her with a tight, distracted smile.
“What is that?” she pointed at the orange box.
“An auto-pointing satellite terminal. Broadband anywhere in the world.”
“Oh,” she said.
But he was already distracted, hammering away on the laptop with a stern look on his face.
She reluctantly left him, wandering down the narrow hall, back to the bedroom.
The sheets and blanket on the bed smelled clean, but stale, like they’d been washed and left unused for a couple of months.
She climbed inside and stared at the exposed wood beams on the ceiling. It was surreal to be here.
She’d just survived an assassination attempt. She’d heard a car bomb go off. She’d just run barefoot through the city. She’d just met a man who tortures and rapes corpses without batting an eye.
She’d completely given herself over to Dmitri and his life. She didn’t feel any guilt tearing at her, or any indecision. For once in her life, she was sure of herself, even in the most extreme situation of her life.
