The War: Bratva Blood Two : (A dark mafia romance)

by SR Jones

  The figures disappear. A few moments later, only one comes back, and it’s Liam.

  “He’s fucking deadly with a knife,” Luka whispers.

  Two down, only another twelve or so go to.

  Damen is sending Marcus a false feed of the inside of our house. He’s using the security cameras that Reece fixed in the upstairs hallway and the front door. In reality, he’s using footage taken nights ago when we were all sleeping. So far as Aram is concerned, we’re tucked up in bed like babies, in the land of dreams.

  When no more men follow the first two, I wonder how long it will take Aram’s men to figure out something is wrong. Clearly the first two were meant to do something. They went around the back. The utility room. Damn, the dogs.

  “Fuck.” I push away from the window. “I’ll be back in two minutes,” I tell the men. “Andrius, call Damen and tell him to stop the feed, now. Make it look like it’s been interrupted by a loss of signal or something.”

  I race downstairs, and the dogs, as I had hoped, start to bark when I clatter into the kitchen. I open the utility room door and put my finger to my lips, which these beauties understand means quiet. Then I lead them out of the utility room and down to the basement. The man guarding the door from the outside raises a brow at me. I knock on the door. “It’s me,” I tell Ethan inside.

  He opens the door, and I push the dogs in.

  He takes them, slams the door back shut, and locks it. I jog up the stairs and into the kitchen, where I pause. They were heading for the utility, I’m convinced of it. Probably to take the dogs out, and then open the front door from the inside. Fuck it. Let’s give the men waiting outside what they’re expecting.

  I turn the kitchen lights on. The blinds are mostly closed, but there’s enough of a gap between the slats that the light from the kitchen will stream out. Then, I open the front door for Aram and his men before bolting up the stairs.

  They won’t have had time to see me and recognize me. The light from the kitchen will mean the dark hallway wouldn’t have given them a clear view. I hope that Aram and his men now believe their vanguard have taken out my dogs and opened the door for them.

  We need enough of his men to get out of the other two cars for us to take them out. With the feed cut, Aram won’t be able to see if it is or isn’t his men in the house. Thank fuck I thought of it because if Damen had kept sending him the footage of the downstairs with nothing happening, then he’d have known the feed was doctored. This way he’s going to think it’s interrupted.

  I join the others at the window in the turret and watch. The front doors of the rear car open, and two men climb out. They raise their guns; one of the idiots is holding it out sideways, gangster style.

  “Fuck me,” Andrius whispers. “They make it too easy.”

  They approach the house, and the front car disgorges its contents. Five men, all with AK47s, head toward the house.

  Luka goes on high alert. He’s using an Accuracy International sniper rifle, which is what he would have used in the SAS.

  I man the M16.

  Andrius has a Russian sniper rifle with a German rifle scope.

  The men near the door. They inch ever closer; the two in front with the cheap pistols are only feet away from entering the house when pop, pop. They go down like a sack of potatoes as Luka takes them both out one after the other, seconds apart.

  The floodlights illuminate the outside like a Christmas tree, and the dazzle will blind them for a moment.

  Andrius fires on the remaining five men carrying the AKs. He hits three in rapid succession in the chest, but the other two aim up at the windows and start firing. Andrius and Luka both duck behind the walls to the sides of the window, and this is where I come in. I aim the M16 and unload a fuck-ton of bullets in the Armenian’s general direction.

  Much as I hate to admit it, this Western made machinery is much better than the AKs the Armenians are using. The two men go down, and then rapid fire comes at us from the back vehicle. There must still have been men left in it. Bullets hit the glass in the turret, and I drop to the floor, below the level of the low windows.

  The glass breaks, and something hits the floor near me. I stare in horror for a split second as Luka dives for it and throws it out of the room down the hallway. We all hit the floor as a boom shakes the house.

  “Fuck,” Luka shouts.

  I turn to him. He didn’t get far enough away from the door, and he’s got shrapnel in his legs. I pull him to me, getting him out of the way.

  “Enough of a gunfight for you?” I ask Andrius.

  “Motherfuckers.” He grabs the M16, knocks the remaining glass out of the ruined middle window, and rains down a hail of bullets on the third car.

  I grab my phone and drop call Vasily, the go sign for him and Bohdan to do their thing. I rush to the window to look. Cars screech out of the garage at the side of the house, and the front car starts its engine just as Vasily slams the Land Rover right in front of it, side on, not giving it room to move backward or forward.

  Then the Mitsubishi roars around the corner and faces the middle SUV. The front lights turn on full beam, and the engine roars three times, as Bohdan, the dramatic fucker, guns it.

  Andrius picks up one of the M16s and peppers the front car. Glass smashes as bullets boom.

  I grab the remaining M16, fury in my veins, and yell to Andrius to stay with Luka and cover me. Then I’m down the stairs and out the door.

  There’s no movement from the middle car. No sign of anyone getting out. I presume Marcus isn’t able to take control of things. I nod at Bohdan, and he plows my Mitsubishi into the side of the armored SUV. He reverses a good distance and does the same thing again, absolutely flooring it, so he hits the SUV at a good speed.

  The side of the car crumples, and I smile as he hits it again. The side door on the farthest side opens, and Marcus slides out, blood all over him. I can’t tell if it’s his or someone else’s. From the way he flops to the ground and crawls out of the way, I’m assuming it’s his.

  Fuck.

  Once he’s out of the way of the vehicle, I grab his collar and pull him back just in time as Bohdan rams the car again. A man’s upper torso pops out of one of the back windows as a man fires on Bohdan, the bullets going straight through the windscreen of the Mitsubishi.

  Pop. Pop.

  Andrius fires from the window, and the man yells as blood blooms at his neck. His body flops forward, so he’s half hanging out of the window.

  I walk toward the car, dodging around the front vehicle, and hope that Andrius’ impressive shooting of the roof and windows means there’s no one alive in it. I approach the vehicle with Aram inside and raise the M16. I stay far enough back so I won’t be hit by any projectiles bouncing off the windshield as I aim and fire. And fire. And fire.

  I fire at the same spot on that fucking thing, until finally the glass cracks fully, and I spray the inside of the vehicle with bullets. I can’t reach all of it though, so I re-aim at another portion of the glass.

  “Hey. I’m coming out,” a voice shouts from inside the SUV the second I stop firing to re-target.

  I don’t fire, but keep my gun aimed at the vehicle. “Slowly, and get your hands up,” I demand.

  Aram slithers out of the back door like the snake he is.

  “Well, you got me.” He laughs. His hands are held up high. “Thing is, you don’t want to put one of those bullets in me. I’m backed by some very powerful people, and they won’t like it one bit if you get rid of me.”

  “Who?” I demand.

  “I can’t fucking tell, but suffice to say … I never wanted all this.” He sweeps his hands around him in a dramatic gesture, and I aim a burst of gunfire at his feet. He dances out of the way and puts his arms in the air. “Tigran got ahead of himself. And Popov.” He sighs. “The man was an imbecile.”

  “You worked with him, you hired him, so what does that make you, huh?” I ask with a smile.

  “I think we can work somethin
g out,” he says.

  “Tell me who is backing you, and we’ll talk,” I reply.

  “I fucking can’t.”

  “I can make you,” I say conversationally. I wasn’t lying when I told Cassie I didn’t torture people. I don’t, generally. This piece of shit, though, he’s working with someone else, and that puts everything Andrius and I have planned moving forward into jeopardy.

  “Nothing you can do to me would be worse than what they will do to me. You can’t make me talk. But I can go back to them and let them know we’ve struck a deal.”

  “You want me to work with you, after you came for what’s mine?” I say incredulously. “You know what? I have people all up in your life right now. I’ll find out. I don’t need you.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.” He laughs. “You do need me because you need an intermediary with them, trust me. You don’t want these fuckers coming after you ever.”

  “I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you,” I tell him. “This is for Cassie, and for Andrius’ broken nose.” I fire off a rapid round dead center into his chest.

  He goes down fast and hard. Blood spills from his mouth, and he gurgles and he tries to speak. I turn my attention to Marcus. He’s bleeding heavily.

  “You need to hold on; I’m calling the paramedics,” I tell him.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m dead anyway. Aram’s backers will figure out I betrayed him if I’m the only man of his to survive.”

  “You’re not fucking dying on my watch,” I tell him as Andrius joins us.

  Bohdan gets out of the truck and walks toward us. Out of the corner of my eye movement registers. I whip my head around to see the trunk of the front car pop open and two men rear up, semi-automatic weapons in hand.

  Everything slows, the way it does in war when you have to make a split second decision. Bohdan reaches for his pistol. Andrius raises the M16 he’s holding, and I grab my gun. I aim at the men, haphazard as it is, and fire. I can’t tell if it’s me or Andrius who hits the first one, but he screams and falls out of the car onto the ground. Bohdan hits the second right between his eyes.

  “Fuck me, how many men did he bring?” I ask Marcus.

  “He figured out I’d betrayed him when the floodlights came on, and before I could do anything about it, he’d gutted me like a pig,” he says.

  I look at the knife wound, gingerly lifting his t-shirt and see it is much worse than Cassie’s was.

  “Feel sick, cold,” he says.

  “Paramedics are on their way,” Alexei informs me as he walks to us.

  “Good because Marcus needs one and so does Luka.”

  “Luka?” Liam has joined us and stares up at the house.

  “He’s going to be okay, but some grenade fragments got him. Lower legs, not enough to do any real damage, but he’ll need cleaning up.”

  “Fuck!” Liam races into the house, and I turn to Marcus.

  “In about five minutes an ambulance is going to be here to take you to the hospital. Are you sure this is cleared with British Intelligence, or someone else very highly placed, because in about ten minutes, this place is going to be crawling with police.”

  “It’s covered,” he gasps. “On their way now. No trouble for you.”

  Some of Aram’s men are still alive. Their pained groans fill the night air.

  Andrius looks at me, and I get what he’s thinking. It’s cold as fuck, but if we let them live, they’ll only be a danger to us going forward. I nod once, and he does in return, then he goes to the men, and one by one puts bullets in them. He puts more in them than is needed, and I remember him saying he wants to put the fear of God into our enemies.

  War. Sooner or later, if you fight, you’re going to lose. The only good war is no war at all.

  I’ve finally come to understand how true those words are now that I have something in my life that means everything to me.

  Cassie. I think of her in the basement and want to be with her. I won’t leave Marcus, though. Not until he’s being assessed by the paramedics. Never leave a man in the field.

  Once he’s safely on his way to the hospital, and this mess is cleaned up, I’m going to get my woman out of that fucking basement.

  The sooner we can get to Corfu and build a damn fortress, the better.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Cassie

  When there’s a knock at the door accompanied by Konstantin’s voice, I almost faint in relief. The noise from upstairs was indescribable. Who knew how loud this sort of thing was in real life.

  Ethan unlocks the door, and I launch myself at Konstantin.

  “What took you so long?” I ask. It sounded as if the fighting stopped ages ago.

  “Had to clean up,” he says with a look toward Ethan. “Thank you so much,” he tells him.

  “No trouble; after all, we’re going to be colleagues soon enough.”

  “Is everyone okay?” I ask.

  “Marcus, the mercenary working with Brit Intelligence, isn’t. He’s going to need urgent surgery. I want to get to the hospital later. I don’t think he has anyone, and I feel responsible in some ways.”

  He hugs me tightly and breathes in my hair. “We’re getting to Corfu as soon as possible,” he says.

  “We are? I thought the place wasn’t purchased yet?”

  “It’s not. We’re going to stay with Andrius and Violet for a while.”

  “Okay. I mean, that sounds nice, but why?”

  “There might be another threat.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ethan grumbles. “It’s never ending.”

  “Meeting, kitchen in five minutes.” Konstantin picks me up.

  “What are you doing? I can walk.” I push at him with my hands.

  “I know, but I like having you in my arms.”

  He carries me up the stairs, and I let him, despite thinking it’s a bit over the top. We hit the kitchen and he gently sets me down on one of the stools by the breakfast bar.

  He pours an epic number of drinks as the room slowly fills.

  When everyone is gathered, Konstantin kisses me on the forehead, sips his drink, and walks to the center of the room.

  “It seems there might be another threat. We’re not sure how serious, but Aram mentioned something to me. At the time I thought he might have been playing for time, or trying to find some reason to convince me not to kill him. However, after a conversation with Damen, it seems the Albanians were funding some of Aram’s activity.”

  “Fucking Albanians,” Andrius says. “Utterly insane bastards.”

  I don’t know what he means, and I must look confused because Bohdan, who is sitting by me, helpfully adds, “The Albanians are the mobsters other mobsters fear. Not because they’re so good, but because they’re so fucking crazy.”

  Oh, okay.

  “Here’s the thing. I’m getting out still, and faster than initially planned.” Konstantin looks around the room and sighs. “I won’t risk Cassie and Michael’s lives over a turf war I have no interest in. As of Monday, I’m moving to Corfu and staying with Andrius. We’ll start work immediately on the project we have planned. I’m going to make it widely known amongst our kind that I’m out. It will also be made known that I’m building a veritable fucking army with Andrius.”

  Andrius grins.

  “Vasily, Alexei. You two men have a big decision to make. Andrius has spoken with Allyov, and he’s agreed, grudgingly, to permit you to work with Vasily, Alexei. In return for a big chunk of what little territory I was operating in the UK. Most of my business here has been legitimate for many years, so it’s not a lot, but it will fit nicely into his portfolio, along with what Popov ran. Which, frankly, we’ve handed to Allyov on a silver platter by taking Popov out.”

  I’m nervous and excited in equal measure. There’s another threat, which isn’t good. On the upside, Konstantin is getting out of this game, and we’re moving to Corfu. I’d worried that he’d back out at the last moment.

  “Vasily, you tak
e on my territory, but there’s a new risk, if the intel on the Albanians is true. However, you’ve got Stamatis covering your back on the West Coast, and you’ve got Ilya willing to discuss a working relationship with you in Russia. You’re not alone, but you can decide to walk away. Leave the scraps to be fought over.”

  “No fucking way,” Vasily says.

  “Well then, I can tell you where to go for help, where to get men, and spend a week or so giving you the best advice, on Corfu. After that, though, you’re on your own.”

  “I understand.” Vasily nods, and he looks almost as if he’s excited about the idea rather than pissed off the way he was at first.

  “So, tonight, we go to bed and sleep easy, but always with one eye open.” Andrius raises his glass. “You knock them down, but more keep coming. That’s the way of war. It’s an endless chain of reprisals and counter reprisals.”

  “You’re getting out, though,” Alexei says. “Do you think they’ll come for you?”

  “With what we’ll be building,” Andrius answers, “they’d have to be crazy. But it’s the Albanian mob, so who knows?”

  The men crack up laughing, and soon they’re trading war stories and drinking. Konstantin, I notice, only has a few sips of his. After a while, he turns to me.

  “Baby. I need to go to the hospital. Liam, Reece, and Ethan are too. You can come with or stay here, whichever you’d prefer.”

  I go with him. It’s so odd to be once more in a hospital. This time we wait until we hear that Marcus is going to be okay. We step in and see him, but only stay for five minutes. He’s groggy, and deep lines of pain furrow his brow and run down the side of his mouth.

  “You ever want to do something different, Andrius and I would be very happy for you to come work with us,” Konstantin says.

  Marcus grins wearily. “I think I might take you up on that offer. Some sun, sea, and maybe sex with a local lovely sounds like the tonic I need right now.”

  “I’m very serious. We’d love to have you on board. Hit me up if you want to talk more.”

  I go to Marcus, and on some insane impulse kiss his cheek. “Get well,” I say. I don’t know why I did it except he looked so alone. No visitors, no family waiting to see how he was. No friends even. Only us, and we barely know him.