Sins of the Master

by Catherine Taylor

  She swallowed back her fear. “They have my husband in prison. They think he’s a terrorist, in league with Dylan, but all James was trying to do was help him, because of me, because he loves me and would do anything for me.” Tears began to fall down her face. “And he doesn’t even know that I am going to have his baby.”

  Eddie breathed out. “You did this for your husband?”

  “Dylan didn’t come.” Her voice became shrill and tight. “I don’t even know if he’s still in the country, and all this is for nothing. I tried to fix it and all I’ve done...”

  She broke down in tears, her whole body shaking. Eddie stood up from the bed and paced the room, shaking his head as her terror amplified.

  “Stop it.” He rushed back to the bed, leaning over her. “Stop your fucking crying because it does nothing but give me a headache.”

  Mairead rolled onto her side and curled up and pulled a pillow into her face with her free hand. Panic was surging through her and her anguish was not about to be silenced easily.

  “You foolish girl,” Eddie told her gently. “You should have stayed out of sight. You were never going to succeed.” He stood up, running his hand through his beard. “I need to find out what they’re planning. Get some rest and I’ll come back soon.”

  He grabbed a blanket and lay it over her, before walking from the room.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Lights were flooding the grounds and there was a swarm of activity before the chopper took off into the night. As it grew smaller in the distance, the peace and darkness were gradually restored. A light rain was falling and the night sky was beginning to look like a celestial abyss as clouds thickened and blocked out the moon and stars. The air was getting colder. Most of the men had donned thick hooded jackets and ski masks, or had pulled their scarfs up about their faces.

  Dylan smiled at this first stroke of luck in a long time. He watched the men move lazily or light cigarettes and indulge in a chat. As he had suspected, from his first encounter with these wannabe mercenaries, most of them were out of their league. Their job was to be intimidating minders to a handful of traumatised girls, who needed little help to be terrified. It was still not the time for complacency. Among them were a few men who knew exactly what they were doing.

  Crouching low, Dylan lowered the binoculars and moved back quietly further into the trees until he was well out of sight of anyone. Taking the large backpack from his shoulders, he sighed to be relieved of the load. Opening it, he pulled out the sheet of black canvas, lay low to the ground and pulled it over himself, before switching on the tablet.

  His face glowed with the light as he swiped at the diagrams, studying each for several minutes before moving on to the next. Glancing at the time, he knew he would have to begin soon. He wanted to be done before the chopper returned, and would have liked to know the purpose of its journey.

  The tracker was still active, but it was impossible to pinpoint exactly where Mairead was in the house, or whether the tracker was still on her. He wanted to believe it was, having spent the last few hours resisting the urge to go in after her. Her survival depended on him staying the course that might get her out alive.

  Before packing up, Dylan took out a smaller canvas bag and put it aside, bringing his own ski mask down over his face and pulling the hood of his thick jacket over his head. An assault rifle was slung onto his shoulder, a much finer weapon than what the men were carrying, but similar enough not to be noticed.

  The backpack was pushed deep into the bushes and he covered it thoroughly with foliage. He picked up another bag, which looked like a bulging apron which he began to clip in place to the front of his body. His jacket went over it and was zipped up. He was about to move off when he stopped and cursed quietly. The first mistake had nearly been made.

  Tearing off his gloves, he took a small box from his pocket and lifted his ski mask. Delicately he put the dark brown contacts in place, blinking his eyes to ascertain they were correctly placed. When gloves and mask were back in place, he moved silently and low towards the clearing. His heartbeat had picked up and he chuckled quietly. It had been a while since he had felt like this.

  The rain was coming down harder and he welcomed its spattering thud against him. It provided less visibility, but also brought further discouragement to the men who were made to be out in it. He had counted ten of them. Hopefully, in their misery they wouldn’t notice they had become eleven.

  Once he had got past the house, he stopped as his destination came into view. It was exactly as Greta had described it, a long and wide stone building set far back from the house, with small barred windows and a tiled gabled roof.

  Where the original double doors would have been, a galvanised sliding door had replaced it for vehicle entry. At the front was a single door which led directly into an office where two guards would be comfortably stationed for the night.

  There was a light on over the door, which would make him visible from the house, but this was not the door he wanted. Dylan ran to the side of the building and crouched down, looking for anyone who might see him. Most of the guards had gathered out at the front, and the area between the house and stables was dark and empty. Examining the bulky padlock on the sliding door, he had it picked and opened in seconds. The door was slid back silently, enough to let him slip inside, before closing it again.

  The area was expansive and dark, with a third of it taken up by an interior prefabricated room stretching across the back section. A wall had been constructed on either side of it, revealing the glow of a dim light behind and little else. All Dylan was sure about was that the room was between him and his first task, and occupied by two guards. Dylan went straight up to the door and knocked on it solidly.

  A Russian voice called out from within. “Who is it? What the fuck do you want?

  “It’s Nikita. Let me in,” Dylan replied back in Russian. “Let me get a fucking coffee. It’s freezing out here.”

  Within a few seconds, a tall bald man was opening the door, laughing. “Fuck off, Nikita, We don’t want you in here, dripping all over our nice warm room.”

  Dylan buried a knife into his throat, pushing him back inside as blood spurted and splattered all over him. At the same time, he saw the movement to his left and threw the second knife. It landed precisely in the man’s Adam’s apple, cutting off any sound he could make before hitting the floor. A gun in his hand clattered to the floor.

  Shutting the door, he looked at the dead men, before his eyes went to another door at the end of the room. Dylan readied himself, knowing he would soon be dealing with the unpredictable.

  Upon opening the door, his nose was assaulted by the smell of human waste. He could see an area which had retained the features of the original stable, with wooden pens on either side of a wide aisle. Two naked bulbs kept the dim glow over the area. Dylan walked forward slowly and felt his chest tighten as he heard weeping and guttural, animalistic moans coming up from the pens.

  Pulling his ski mask off, he stopped at the first stall to look at the first girl huddled and trembling under a blanket in the corner, lying upon a filthy mattress with a chain around her leg. She looked to be no older than fifteen, her gaunt face frozen and her eyes wide with terror.

  Each stall exposed a different misery until, he stopped to call out. “I’m looking for Kim. Greta said to tell you that you were wrong. Not everyone has forgotten about you and she can’t wait to hear how well you play the piano.”

  For a moment there was no response, until he saw a girl of about eighteen stand up, a blanket wrapped about her.

  “I’m Kim.”

  Dylan smiled. “Nice to meet you, Kim. I’m Dylan, and I’m going to need all the help you can give me, if we’re going to get these girls out of here tonight.”

  * * * * *

  It was after two in the morning when Eddie returned to the room to find Mairead sleeping. Her slim body looked pale and fragile as she lay in her underwear. He could see the soft swell of her belly, but
his eyes were drawn to something else. There was blood on the bed, and he winced to see the raw bloody flesh at her wrist, where she had tried to pull her hand from the cuff. He shook his head as he looked at further evidence of her struggles.

  The sheets had been kicked off and the blanket lay on the floor, out of her reach. Picking it up, he gently laid it over her. She didn’t stir, and he was certain she had passed out from sheer exhaustion. Her cheek was bruised and her injured eye looked like something alien, purple and swollen shut. The other was red-rimmed from crying.

  He breathed deeply as he looked at her, feeling choked with an overwhelming sense of shame. She was young, vulnerable and pregnant, yet it hadn’t stopped her from risking everything to save her husband. It was certainly more courage than sense, but he couldn’t help envy the love she must have for her man, that she could even attempt what she had done. And if hadn’t been for his own intervention, she would have succeeded.

  History wasn’t just repeating itself. It was re-enacting a damning indictment of events he would rather never think about again. There were only two original characters remaining, himself and Zaleski, but the others were coming back to life, represented by another generation. It was as if he was being tested, being presented with another chance to make right the worst mistake of his life.

  Lena’s words were haunting him, proving that he was everything she had said he was, and there was no escaping it. Looking at Mairead didn’t help. She had put everything on the line for her husband and child, something he had been unable to do when the time had come.

  It was all too much. Eddie quietly left the room and headed to the kitchen. It was unlikely he would sleep anytime soon, even if his bed had been empty. Leo was sitting on a stool at the bench, and grinned as he walked in.

  “Eddie, you’re not looking like a man who has satisfied his cock. Is the slut giving you grief?”

  His words made Eddie nauseated, but he smirked. “It may have helped if your thugs hadn’t fucked up her face.”

  “True,” Leo nodded. “I have strict rules where my own girls can be beaten. Never about the face, but biting Grigor’s head was not a good idea. Just flip her over and you won’t have to look at her face.”

  Eddie decided to ignore the comment. “So what are you doing up at this time of night?”

  “I work at night,” Leo shrugged.

  “Where’s Asya and Yuri?”

  “Gone to bed. Asya was still groggy from the pills and added a few vodkas to the mix. She’s an unusual girl, your niece, quite bloodthirsty. She wanted to drag Mairead out for more entertainment. Yuri convinced her that you would not be pleased to be disturbed.”

  “This thing Asya wants done to Mairead, I don’t see the benefit.”

  Leo winced. “Yeah, it disturbs me. If it goes wrong, we lose a valuable piece of arse. You know, despite her age and condition, I could get amazing money for her from Middle Eastern buyers, especially with her profile. She’s extremely attractive and physically fit. The child could be sold for enormous money. Asya’s lust for vengeance has a high fucking price tag.”

  “Maybe we can change her mind.”

  Leo laughed. “From what I’ve seen and heard of Asya, she’s not about to trade her vengeance for any amount of money. She speaks of her father as if he was a god. The stories she has told me of him… how true are they?”

  “Very true,” Eddie replied sombrely. “Igor was a vicious man, as were most of my brothers. I was the youngest and suffered my own share of their brutality growing up.”

  “And where does Zaleski fit into all of this? I know he was in prison with you and Igor, but how does he go from being Igor’s right hand man to betraying him?”

  “Because Zaleski was the one man Igor feared and respected. Zaleski didn’t take orders from anyone, including Igor, but he remained with our family for a while, before he went into the army. He would do some of Igor’s bidding when it suited him, but he kept to himself. He was still very much a boy, and my wife, Tatiana, had a soft spot for him, as did most of my brother’s wives. There was some jealousy on our part, but Zaleski had rules, and married women were out, not that he needed them. He had a line of women wanting to fuck him. His looks had something to do with it, as did his cock, but there was something about him that set him apart from the rest of us. He wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect to a woman in his presence. My brother Sergei, was bad for beating his wife and one day, when he backhanded her, Zaleski gave him a hiding that put him in hospital.”

  “It was not his place to interfere,” Leo scowled. “What did Igor do about that?”

  “Nothing,” Eddie grinned. “It was a fucking good fight. Sergei and four of his men against Zaleski. Only Zaleski was left standing. It was spectacular to watch. Igor loved to see him fight, but it should have been a warning to him. He allowed Zaleski to do whatever he wanted. I think he saw him as a son and an heir, but the sins of the father were not passed down to this particular child. They were punished by him.”

  “A filthy fucking traitor.”

  “And women were always his downfall.”

  “Not if you use them and move on to the next.” Leo grinned. “I did have one that I was fond of, but she didn’t like my choice of profession, especially when I made her part of it. Too smart for her own good, and now she’s taken off and managed to stay hidden, but that won’t last. Thanks to her stupid mother, her picture is all over the city.”

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded paper, putting it in front of Eddie. “The mother works at a bakery in the city. We have her phone blue-jacked, meaning we can monitor her calls and texts. If Greta calls, my men in the city will have her within minutes.”

  The mention of a bakery had Eddie frowning before he had opened the paper. It took every effort not to react as he saw the name under the picture of a pretty young girl. He studied the phone number, before folding the paper and handing it back.

  “It’s one girl,” he shrugged. “You’ve got plenty. Why bother?”

  Leo scowled. “Because this bitch could nail me. She’s been popular with certain clients, important men that wouldn’t appreciate their secrets getting out, and she’s seen far too much. I’ll rest easier when I’ve buried her.”

  “And the mother?”

  “An easy kill. I’ve had recent intel that she’s here on an expired visa, so nobody is going to miss her.” He grinned. “One of my men bought some of her baking to get a look at her, and he reckons it was like being home. Maybe I keep her here to bake for the boys.”

  Eddie forced himself to chuckle and then pretended to remember something. “There was something I wanted to ask you. I have to return tomorrow before lunchtime. Could this be arranged?”

  “Sure,” Leo nodded. “The chopper won’t be here until nine with the doctor and you might have to wait to see if Mairead is ready to give up her secrets. It’s going to be an interesting morning, but we should be able to get you out by eleven. Personally, I don’t think she knows anything.”

  “No, neither do I,” Eddie scowled. “Though that won’t bother Asya.”

  The quiet of the kitchen was suddenly disturbed by a loud buzzing as Leo’s phone vibrated on the bench. He picked it up, frowning as he looked at the screen. “What the fuck?”

  He answered it angrily. “Who is this?”

  Eddie watched as Leo’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “How the fuck did you get this number?” He eyed Eddie fearfully and mouthed, “Zaleski.”

  “Give it to me.” Eddie snatched the phone. He slowly let his breath exhale, before replying in Ukrainian. “Is it you, Jahn?”

  There was a pause before the reply came. “It is and I would say I am speaking to Eddie Ivanchenko, which surprises me.”

  “You have a good memory.”

  “And you have something that belongs to me. For your sake, I’m hoping she’s alive and well.”

  “She’s alive, but I suggest if you want her to stay that way, you might have to make an app
earance.”

  “I intend to, about four hours from now. I’m almost a little sorry to know that you’re part of this, Eddie. I would have thought you would have learned your lesson.”

  “That’s families for you,” Eddie smirked. “Blood is thicker… Isn’t that what they say? So I take it you’re not ringing to catch up on old times. How’s this going to work, Jahn?”

  Eddie listened, his pulse racing with an instinctive foreboding, but tempered by a much deeper feeling of relief that this whole business was coming to a conclusion. If he could get Mairead out of this mess, it would be a little recompense for the debt he owed as well as protecting Lena from Leo, but another loss would not be so easy to get over.

  “What’s happening?” Leo whispered.

  Eddie frowned and shook his head, still listening to a voice he hadn’t heard in years. It occurred to him that Leo didn’t speak Ukrainian.

  “Listen to me, Jahn. I want this girl out of here as much as you. I’ve never forgotten what you did, and what I owe you. For that, I’m going to make this happen, and for her, but I can’t help you.”

  “Eddie, you couldn’t even help yourself,” Dylan replied. “Why the fuck would I expect you to help me? None of it matters anymore, not you or me, or even the past. This is about her and that child she’s carrying. Strikes a chord, doesn’t it, Eddie?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “You’re getting another chance, Eddie. Don’t fuck this one up, unless you want the death of another woman and unborn child on your conscience, provided you still have one.”

  The phone went dead and Eddie put the phone down on the bench with a trembling hand. Leo was staring at him, aghast.

  “What the fuck was he saying? Are you alright, man?”

  “Just get Yuri and Asya out of bed. Zaleski is coming.”

  * * * * *