by Bethany-Kris
Viviana forced the rising bile down. “Are you asking if Roman mentioned something to me? Because if so, he didn’t.”
“No,” Agent Danover replied, “we’re wondering if you heard anything. See the difference?”
“Shit, Vine, sorry that took me so long. The nurse from this morning just came back on shift and had your engagement ring packed away in a safe spot. Figured you’d want it clean …”
Ivan’s voice trailed off as he pushed the room door all the way open. The disgusted scowl that covered his features as he exhaled harshly at the sight that met his eyes only caused Viviana’s nervousness to intensify. She understood all too well how it looked for her to be alone with federal agents.
The lawyer was fast to surprise her.
“Might I remind you both that given my client’s current medical state, any and all questions you ask, along with the answers she may give, are irrelevant and inadmissible for any public record.” His finger pointed to the beeping machines when he added, “She’s medicated. Dealing with immense trauma and stress. Liable to be considered under duress, which her doctor will be quick to point out first, should you take anything said farther than this room. Not only that, but she’s in a much more delicate state than either of you possibly understand, not that it’s any of your business to be properly informed. Under no circumstances is this an appropriate time for you to be accosting her with questions.”
“Relax. We’re not here for Anton,” Danover said, not even bothering to turn around.
“And I don’t care,” Ivan barked.
“Miss Carducci … the call, that’s all we want to know.”
Viviana hid the shaking of her hands under thick blankets.
“There’s nothing to tell. Roman made his point clear. I hung up the phone.”
The stare-off that commenced between the two agents and Viviana lasted longer than she was comfortable with. Neither of them were budging and clearly she wasn’t either. If they knew she was lying, they didn’t call her on it.
“Your fiancé …”
Ivan huffed under his breath. “Get out.”
Todd lifted a single shoulder as he asked, “Do you really know the man you’re marrying?”
“Probably better than you,” she retorted hotly. “If you want to throw out some Freudian worthy bullshit about how I must have daddy issues because I’m marrying a man just like Roman, then you can go to hell. Yes, Agent Todd, I’m very aware of whom I lie down beside every night. And I wouldn’t ask for anyone different.”
“He’s a dangerous man, Viviana.”
Viviana shrugged. If they thought that bothered her, she had a news flash coming.
“Funny, the last thing Anton ever makes me feel is unsafe.”
When the agents were gone and the door was closed, Ivan leaned against it and sighed with an exhausted noise. While Viviana was relieved they were gone, she was also waiting for the backlash from her lawyer.
“I’m sorry, Ivan.”
“Don’t be,” he muttered. “We figured they’d be around.”
“We?”
“Anton and me. Chatted about it for a little while. Nothing you say really affects him in regards to Roman, but if you don’t want to talk, you’re not required to. I wasn’t about to let the bastards bully you into it.”
“I’m hiding knowledge of a crime. That’s punishable by law.”
“You didn’t hang up the phone, did you?”
“No,” she whispered. “Dad had this new conference phone. Didn’t matter how many times we told him he needed to hit the end call button after he hung the receiver up, he never remembered. Sonny was there, but he didn’t know Dad had been on the phone with me …”
“Sonny, what the fuck are you doing? You don’t realize—”
“All you had to do was kill the bitch, Roman. That was it,” Sonny spat.
“And the baby, too, right? Because let’s not forget her. You gonna fucking kill me, now? Your own brother? Blood never mattered in this life. But unlike you, I followed that creed. Come on then … do it.”
“Turn around.”
“No,” Roman said.
Viviana blinked out of the memory, hearing the snap of the handgun’s chamber being loaded in the background of her mind. She’d never forget that sound. And that’s all it was … just a fucking sound.
That sound brought death. Always.
“Viviana?”
“He shot him in the back of the head, Ivan.”
Ivan licked his lips and stared at her sadly. “To dishonor.”
“No …” she said, shaking her head, “because Sonny couldn’t look him in the eyes.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The SUV’s door silently closed shut. Anton didn’t move his gaze from the front windshield as the younger man beside him nodded shortly and lit up another cigarette. Anton probably smoked half the man’s pack before he even got back.
“It’s done.”
“You managed to get it all the way in?”
Bo shrugged. “Heard it hit something, Boss. Wasn’t all that full so the flames aren’t going to be huge. Now, we just wait for the alarms to start ringing.”
So wait they did. Anton had the SUV sitting a little awkwardly in the parking space, but it wasn’t bad enough to attract him a violation ticket. Like he’d told Viviana … careful. That’s what it was all about for him when he did a scene. Anyone else could do theirs however the fuck they wanted, but Anton made sure he left nothing behind.
Vehicles were dumped. Weapons and clothes destroyed. No souvenirs kept.
Just memories and broadcasts.
Sure enough, not ten minutes later the building’s fire alarm began to ring. They could hear it echoing through the near silent streets.
Bo meant what he said by smoking the rat out. It wasn’t like they could just call the bastard on the phone and get him to make his merry way out, and Anton didn’t want to risk the chance of going in. There was no promising that cameras wouldn’t be around, not to mention the amount of possible witnesses.
That just screamed messy.
Anton didn’t do messy.
A good twenty minutes passed before tired, bundled up bodies started filing out of the apartment complex. Bo had tossed a glass bottle filled with gasoline, plugged off with a burning rag, into the building’s dumpster shoot that led to the can in the underground garage. It wasn’t likely to do any real damage to the apartment, or the people inside, but it was one hell of a way to wake them up in the middle of the night and get them all out.
With a single tap of a control button, the sunroof slid open. Anton moved his seat back as far as possible. The weapon on his thighs was picked up and placed in his calm, waiting grip. Plucking up the ammo cartridge and clicking it into place with an almost satisfying sound, he was near ready.
No shaking. No worry. Nothing.
Business as usual.
The SVD rifle was only about ten pounds of lightweight metal and wood. Nothing like the stock model, considering they usually came equipped with polymer furniture instead of the slick, blue-brushed snake skin that covered Anton’s gun. Accurate with its scopes for up to thirteen hundred meters, he only had one bullet in the cartridge to use.
Anton didn’t miss. Not once.
When he took the shot, he got it.
It didn’t matter that it was dark as tar outside, the scopes were specially designed for night use. Sonny only needed to fuck up once and he was done.
Dead man walking.
“Ready?” Anton asked gruffly, taking one last drag from his smoke before it was flicked out the opened window.
“As I’m ever going to be,” Bo said.
With the younger man settled back into his seat, Anton took care to get his frame up out of the sunroof with near silent movements and careful wrangling of the gun. When he and the weapon were sitting on top of cold metal, he noticed the wind was all but dimmed to nothing at all from the tall buildings around them, keeping it out. Cocking his foot up
to the edge, he waited for another moment. The roads were silent with no cars, no people, and the surrounding buildings dark from the night. Not a soul would notice them parked where they were in the darkness.
More people left the apartment building. Anton could hear their rustling movements and murmuring voices carrying down the quiet street. As it was, he could also hear the sirens starting to screech from somewhere close by.
Time to get to work.
“Phone, Bo,” he said.
Bo handed him his cell phone. Anton readied his weapon quickly, resting it on his shoulder so when the kickback came, it was going to hit hard into that already bruised spot. No incriminating marks to find if they were already looking over a wounded canvas.
With the night vision scope attached and the sights turned on, he surveyed the green and black landscape until different colors bloomed, indicating movement. The warmth of the bodies showed in bright reds and yellows.
Anton hit the pre-set button on the phone and hit speaker.
“Where’d you get his new cell number from?” Bo wondered down below.
“The wife.”
“Ah …”
Anton hummed, but he didn’t share anything else.
Four rings later and the phone finally picked up.
“Christ, yeah … Ciao?”
That smooth, blackstrap voice of Anton’s carried like dripping honey into the phone. He rested the barrel of the rifle to his propped up knee and started surveying the crowd of yellow.
“Sonny, we’ve got a little problem here.”
There wasn’t a response. Not even a breath. Given Anton still had a slight Russian accent, he knew it wouldn’t be mistaken by the man on the other end as to who the caller was. There also wasn’t any change in the line of swarming bodies he was keeping a close eye on.
“Who the fuck—”
“You know who,” Anton said, his lips curving wickedly as a lit cigarette was handed to him through the window. “Let’s not play stupid.”
“The Russian scum, I assume. Did you like my gift this morning?”
“Liked it just fine,” Anton replied coolly, ignoring the obvious jibe. “Liked it even better when it fucked up something awful and didn’t blow right. I thought it’d be an obvious thing, Sonny, but I guess not.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Anton gave Sonny a moment to let the words have their confusing effect. That was the point, after all. Once more, Anton lined up his sights and gauged the crowd. There still wasn’t much change. Certain bodies had swarmed together, families and friends likely. He was looking for two bodies out of order from the rest, or at least slightly off from the others, considering Sonny wouldn’t want the phone call to be overheard.
“You know what the difference is between you and me, Sonny?”
There was a certain biting acid when the Italian scoffed out, “What’s that?”
“When something needs to be done, I fucking do it. I don’t wait around and ask questions. I don’t expect my boys to frolic along like a bunch of idiots who just know what they have to do. No, I’m me because I’m goddamned good at what I do and they know it. They have a boss for a reason. I get my hands red just like they do. They call me Pakhan and respect it. And you know what else comes of that, Don?”
“Don’t you—”
“I don’t fuck up,” Anton interrupted darkly. “I don’t mess up hits, or takes, and like hell would I accept anything less than perfect craftsmanship from my guys when it comes to their work. Bombs don’t get mucked up; we keep it good and clean, and toes don’t get stepped on. Also, I like to think I have a pretty good internal indicator on when to back the hell off of something. Clearly yours is broken, given the gift that blew up in my driveway this morning.
“Important bulletin, Sonny … your work was terribly shoddy in more ways that I have time to explain.” Anton chuckled, keeping his gaze locked through the scope. “That the kind of guys you have working under you now? Or would the regulars who do your hit work just not take the minuscule bait you offered to off Viviana for you?”
“Wasn’t me who offered that.”
“Bullshit.”
In no way was Anton going to keep the train of questioning going if it wasn’t working to his gain. He’d already spotted ten different pairs of people and he had his scope pulled back at a far enough length in sight to have all of them loaded in so he could watch their movements closely. So far, nothing.
“Your daughter, Cici … right?”
Sonny went silent again.
“I’d suggest you don’t hang up the phone on me, Don. You won’t like what I do next,” Anton warned quietly. “The very last thing you want is for me to go in on her angry, trust that.”
“I have three daughters.”
“Mmhmm, and two sons. But your youngest girl is just twenty-one. Cici,” he repeated, drawling the name out on an exhale of ashy smoke. “Shit, you even got that girl in etiquette school. I have to say, her bull is a downright idiot, though. You should get on that one. He might be fucking her like Vine’s was. Sorry about that, by the way. It was better we do it than you, of course, because you would have if I let him live, but still. They made it quick. Apologies nonetheless.”
The bull comment might very well have done what Anton was looking for. Sonny was murmuring on the other end of the phone in what sounded like Italian while a particular movement from the far left of his scope caught his keen eye. A bigger body was moving away from a tall, female-looking figure.
Again, Anton’s mouth curved into a smirk, his tongue already tasting blood.
“You wanted to make your point, so I’m going to make mine now. You’re a stupid man, but you’re an even worse boss.”
“Fuck you, Anton.”
“Ouch, try a little lower. You should have killed her when you had the chance, idiot. Lucky for a lot of people that you didn’t manage to get the job done. You want to know one more difference between you and me, Sonny?”
“Not really. Your opinion doesn’t add any merit to my life.”
Anton watched the figure move in sync with the sound of muffled voices being passed by, sirens getting closer, and grass shuffling underfoot over the receiver.
“I’m going to tell you anyway. Figure this will be a life lesson you might want to take from here, you know, should it ever happen again …” There was a goal to Anton’s rambling madness. The last thing he wanted Sonny thinking was that he was in his vicinity. “When you go into hiding, the rest of your family does, too. Third row building, first floor, eighth apartment down from the left side is Cici’s bedroom window at her school. The building doesn’t have electronic security for room break-ins, so why on earth did you think it was okay for her to be situated on the bottom floor?”
Other than the background noise, all of Sonny’s sounds and movement had stopped.
Just like the figure in the scope.
Anton had him.
So damned easy.
Snap, click … boom.
“Don’t—”
“Yeah, because you get to make all the fucking calls right now, asshole.”
Zoning in to ready the shot, Anton felt himself grow cold all over again.
“Before I finish this off, there’s one more thing, Don.”
The voice was choked on the other end of the phone. “What?”
“The last thing you should have ever done was stepped in my way. Contrary to the old tale, there’s no honor among thieves, especially our kind. Your biggest mistake was picking up your phone tonight and saying hello …”
“Wh—”
“Because if you haven’t figured it out yet, you’re nothing like me,” Anton finished.
The trigger pulled back under his finger.
It’d be a clean hit. Through and through.
This boss wasn’t one to miss and he didn’t second guess.
The body dropped.
The phone’s speaker went silent as screams cut through the dark air.
Anton slid down out of sight.
• • •
A nurse slipped into Viviana’s room in the early morning hours. Anton had damn near fallen asleep, but even her quiet footsteps had his eyes snapping open. Nothing like natural adrenaline to keep someone alert.
“Lemme wake her up,” Anton mumbled, rubbing his face. “If that’s what you’re here to do, I mean.”
The nurse faltered, two little white cups in her hands nearly spilling whatever medication they had in them. “Um, it is what I’m here for, Mr…?”
“Anton Avdonin. Her fiancé.”
Again, the nurse just looked surprised and confused. He tried to look unbothered by her reaction. It had been a rush-rush night for him and Bo to dispose of the SUV at a scrap yard, along with the phone and gun. Needing another vehicle, he’d finally made face at his club, though he didn’t notice anyone trailing him. Then he’d made a quick trip to his Oceana home where he showered and changed clothes before throwing the ones he had worn into a random dumpster on his way back to the hospital.
Finally making it back to the hospital around five in the morning, Anton was let in a back exit door where no cameras could see him returning. Ivan slipped out just as quickly.
“Is it done?” his lawyer had asked.
“All done,” Anton had replied.
That was the extent of their conversation. Nothing else needed to be said. Of course, he hadn’t slept in fucking hours. Anton was exhausted, but there was no way on earth his girl was going to be waking him up.
“I was here yesterday, most of the day. You didn’t see me?” he asked the nurse.
“No, sir.”
Anton shrugged. “Ivan went home late last night. Maybe we just passed you girls by. We know you’re busy.”
“Yes, very busy. I’m sure she’d love to have you wake her up. Just be careful of her bandages, and make sure she takes her antibiotics and vitamin with the breakfast they’re about to bring in. It won’t be long before she’ll need her bandages changed and burns cleaned, and she seems to get a little prickly about the pain …”
