Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)

by Nancy Haviland

  Alek smiled over. “I know, brother.”

  Vasily clapped his byki’s shoulder before coming back to Alek. “How badly do you want to make this personal? Because of the circumstances, I would feel better if you let me send in a torpedo.”

  A torpedo was a contract killer. There were those who were known for their clean in-and-outs. Then there were others who would take their targets home and make the eventual demise something that was prayed for.

  “I’ve known my daughter a week,” Alek said. “Reynard almost made it so that was all I got. That makes this so personal it’s obscene.”

  Vasily gave a reluctant nod that was full of understanding, and it was he who opened the door and led them out to where Alesio was standing next to Vincente’s Kombat T98. When he saw them, Gabriel’s cousin tossed his smoke into the tin at the corner of the garage, kept there for that purpose.

  Alesio, who was in his late twenties, was a Moretti right from his raven hair to his green eyes. He was closer to Stefano, Gabriel’s older brother, in height than Gabriel, which put him at a lithe six-one or two, and he’d been blessed with a rosy outlook on life that made him enjoyable to be around. That must drive Vincente crazy.

  “Don’t take any souvenirs,” Vasily advised as he hugged Alek hard and pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “They only keep the memory fresh. Watch each other’s backs. Alesio, how are you, son?”

  A round of brief hugs were exchanged. “Congratulations on the bambina. I hear she’s a beauty.”

  The flame in Alek’s gut burned brighter as he nodded. “You heard correctly.”

  “This is going to be an enjoyable trip.” Again, Alesio’s expression reminded Alek not of Gabriel but Stefano. “This fuckin’ guy has had it coming for a while now.”

  “Couldn’t agree more.” Alek hopped into the truck with V, while Anton went up front.

  Vincente tore a Velcro cover off the back of the driver’s seat and unzipped a hidden compartment. As he armed up, Alek rolled down the window.

  “Call me,” Vasily repeated, proving he was anxious. “If Sergei is there, you bring him to me.”

  “With a bow on his ass,” V promised as Alesio hit the gas and got them moving.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Within the hour, Alek was standing in a third-floor apartment in Gravesend with two Baikov sixthes sitting at a kitchen table, their heads down, hands clasped on the back of their necks. The place reeked of weed.

  It had been a near silent entry, the only sound coming when Anton had opened the door and Alesio had gone in first. The lookout had managed a “What the—” before Alesio had shut him up.

  There were three women on the couch, all with their faces pressed into the back, all quiet. Alek had heard V tell them to stay on the level and they’d be free to leave in a few minutes. They’d interrupted the girls firing up their small pipes. Good thing, too, because the drugs had curbed their fear. In fact, Alek was pretty sure one of them had fallen asleep.

  “Where is Reynard?” he quietly asked one of the men at the table. When the guy shot him a contemptuous look, Alek didn’t hesitate to press a blade into the thin skin below one of those windows to the soul. “I’ll pop it out and squash it under my heel if you don’t open that fucking mouth. Three…two…”

  Buddy winced and got his finger up and pointing to the rear of the apartment.

  “Is there a back exit?” V asked the other one.

  “Fuck you. Dead men do not talk.”

  “You just did.” V pulled the trigger and splattered brain matter all over the mountain of coke the two had been cutting with an unknown substance that smelled bleachy. What was left after a shot silenced by a suppressor was always shocking, which was probably why the guy at the end of Alek’s blade attempted to spring up and make a grab for one of the guns on the table. Vincente’s hand clamped onto the back of his neck before he could move much more than a couple of inches.

  “My advice?” V murmured. “Answer the fuckin’ question. Quietly. Because this one,” he nodded at Alek, “left home without his patience.”

  “Second exit?” Alek asked again.

  The idiot’s lips remained sealed, and suddenly it was the principle of the matter. Alek beckoned Anton over and had him hold their mute in a tight grip, his mouth covered. Getting one of the guy’s tattooed hands in the air, Alek spread out his fore and middle finger. Without hesitating, he chopped his four-inch blade down into that V. The weight and sharpness had it sinking in about an inch. They repeated the process twice more, quitting when they reached the pinkie.

  “Second exit?” Alek repeated as the guy chuffed through his nose behind Anton’s hand.

  He got a nod this time.

  “To the fire escape?”

  Another nod.

  “Thanks for your cooperation.” As Alek headed down the short hallway, his focus on nothing but Reynard now, he heard the puff of another suppressed shot go off.

  A hard shoulder to the back sent Alek stumbling past a closet. He looked back to see V spin, his duster winding around his feet like a cat wanting to be fed. The Reaper shoved his hand through an opening in the fabric flap hanging in the place of a door, and with one yank, a guy was jerked out of the closet and slammed into the wall opposite. He hit hard and just happened to be head-first, which had him crumpling like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Ashes fell from his hand as it opened.

  “There’s always a surprise,” V muttered as he dropped the guy and motioned Alek ahead. “Think the asshat would’ve thought to put out his joint.”

  Alek moved faster now, knowing the head bang had to have been heard. He came to a small area that housed a loveseat, a closed door across the way, and a rickety desk. As he got close enough to see what was spread out across its surface, he felt a wave of heat billow outward as if an atomic bomb had gone off within his body. There were pictures of Sacha and Lekzi. A few were recent because Sacha was in winter gear and pushing the large stroller. Two others had been taken last year—and stole Alek’s breath—because they showed Sacha pregnant.

  With his heart pounding at the beauty of her, he pocketed them and forced himself to move on after silently vowing he’d get her there again as soon as her body got on board with his plan. There were fake IDs in Sacha and Lekzi’s name, two bus tickets to Boston, a handful of syringes, and two small bottles. One was a prescription sedative, the other a small brown vial with a tree on the front. He picked it up, remembering Yuri mentioning Lekzi could have been poisoned by a plant extract, but he couldn’t read the label because the writing was Chinese. V picked up a chart with doses and two weights circled that were approximates of Sacha’s…and an infant’s.

  As they exchanged an enraged look, the sound of someone hitting the fire escape stairs and running for their life came. Alek pocketed the vial and grabbed the syringes. He pointed for V to follow the racket, and then he was gunning for the stairwell inside the building. Reynard had chosen to go up rather than down.

  Alek dove by the others—had to knock Anton into a stack of beer empties—and was coming out onto the roof within seconds; the only place to go since the building was only four stories. Sticking to the wall of the enclosure, he popped his head out but didn’t have to bother pulling it back to avoid a shot because V already had Reynard doubled over and backing away as he shook his head at the Reaper’s vicious expression.

  Reynard Novik, the man who’d attempted to murder Alek’s seven-month-old daughter, walked right into his arms.

  Even though he’d barely had to exert himself, Alek’s chest was pumping, his lungs and heart working overtime to accommodate his rage. To start, he hammered three solid shots right into the middle of Reynard’s face, then for Vasily’s sake, asked, “Where’s Sergei?”

  “Balls deep in your woman?”

  Alek kneed the fucker hard enough so that his would never produce sperm again then threw him to the ground next to the stairwell enclosure. “Get him on the wall,” he said to Anton and Alesio.


  He took a brief trek around the rooftop, sucking in the frigid air as he looked at the mostly darkened units in the surrounding buildings. He felt an urgent need to gut the cocky sonofabitch without doing the smart thing, which was to ask a goddamn question or two.

  Once he felt able to control himself, he went back to find Reynard pinned to the rough brick. Alek palmed his blade again and snapped his hand out to quickly slash left then right. Reynard’s top and bottom lips split open like two well-done sausages. Blood began running off his chin as the guy howled.

  “I suggest you shut the fuck up and use that mouth wisely,” Alek snapped. “You’re going to die regardless, but I’ll make a deal with you.” He waited until Reynard quieted before going on. “If you give up some information, I won’t hand you off. Because you tried to kill my child, that guarantees you a long and luxurious stay in Rapture’s basement, and you know what that will entail. One thing; the best medical care in the world, because I’ll personally make it so Yuri takes a daily trip into the city to patch you up so you’re as good as new for the next round. And the one after that. And the one that follows.” He came in a little closer, preparing to be spat on. “Do you really want to know what the human body is capable of withstanding at the hands of a man like Maksim Kirov?”

  As Reynard’s bloodshot gaze bounced between Alek and V, some of his aggression left him. “You’re pretty fuckin’ brave pulling this shit in a Baikov stronghold. For all you know, Sergei and some of the boys could be ready to ambush you the minute you hit the front walk. How the fuck did you find me anyway?”

  Alek had called Maks during the ride and had been told a safety net of spotters had been set up around the building and surrounding streets. If anyone other than an old lady walking her poodle tried to get in or out the front or back doors, they’d be detained and released once Alek and company were gone. And if any vehicles neared with occupants resembling associates of theirs, a warning would be immediate and backup would be sent in.

  He didn’t share that information now.

  “That’s more incentive for you to sing.” Vincente came around and grabbed Reynard’s face in his hand. He squeezed, but nothing made it out other than some muffled shrieks. “A fuckin’ baby, you degenerate?” he growled, slamming the back of Reynard’s head against the wall a couple of times before shoving his face away. “Maybe you’ll feel like ranting when you clue in. You think it’s a coincidence we showed up here? Your pal gave us your location because he’s done with you, asshole. Why not let us boot his ass on your behalf for the double-cross?”

  Reynard’s fury was instant. Alek let him ramble off a few curses before getting him on track.

  “Any idea what’s driving this machine?” he asked, curious if Sergei’s reasons could be something more than the loss of Renee and Evan.

  “Yeah. He’s a bitter, fucked-up pussy rat. He’s guilty as fuck and is blaming his uncle and the organization for all his fuckin’ problems because he can’t get over ’em like the rest of us do.”

  So they were on track.

  “You wanna fuck him real good and give us some deets?” V’s tone was all let’s-be-friends. “From the info we gathered, he’s found himself a new partner. Must be why he’s turning you in.” It could have been the lie, his situation, or the fact that Reynard just had a big mouth, who knew, but he responded to the bait and sang like a canary.

  “He’s been fuckin’ with you guys for a long time. In your camp,” he said to V, his bleeding lips curled up in a sneer. “He and Furio got to be good buddies. Anything he heard last summer about your boss’s woman he sent Furio’s way.”

  Alesio was suddenly all ears because he’d had a front row seat to the action that had unfolded in that cabin in Washington State. Stefano Moretti had been shot, and Eva had almost been raped and killed by the man Reynard had just mentioned.

  No one dared move as more puzzle pieces were dropped to filled in some of the blanks they hadn’t been aware were there. Was there anything more dangerous than a man who felt as if he’d been betrayed?

  “And you personally?” Reynard said, still talking to Vincente. “Your redhead? Yeah, Sergei followed that action. He’s chums with one of the ODMC brothers. Guy tipped Sergei off about the meeting that would take place in that alley where you showed and almost took out the two looking for information on Nollan’s wife. We were the ones who got the porn producer and his buddy out of there before the cops came. They got us in touch with Nollan, and Sergei promised he’d do him a solid and keep him up-to-date on his wife’s movements. That’s how he found your redhead in Astoria. That’s also how Kevin knew where the brother was partying, and that Caleb would be an easy target after having had one too many drinks provided by his Russian comrade.”

  Vincente looked ready to explode as he walked away.

  “And you guys?” Reynard said to Alek, almost appearing to be enjoying himself now. “Sergei got real brave a few weeks back and danced with the devil by poking his nose into Kirov’s biz. How do you think Eberto Morales knew to target the hot Dr. Mancuso at Coney Island Hospital? And his woman’s kid? Yeah. Sergei gave Morales the boy’s school. Said if his kid was dead, why should hers live?”

  Thank fuck Maks wasn’t there. He’d have struck Reynard down right then.

  “And then there’s our Pakhan,” Reynard went on. “Back when Sergei found out your uncle had a woman and kid, I don’t think I ever saw him so fuckin’ excited. It wasn’t even a week later that he had a plan in place to take out the little blonde in Seattle. Just after, when he saw Vasily and Gabriel in Rapture, he sniffed around the Italian’s past. How do you think Furio and Stefano learned about Vasily’s kid; your fucked up cousin sent the P.I. they hired a photo of Gabriel with her pretty face circled in the background. Sergei said the fat guy took over from there and found her in a bunch of other pictures he’d already taken.”

  As Alek and Anton exchanged a look, Reynard grew quiet and dabbed at his lips with the tip of his tongue. An electric tension returned when Vincente did. The air all but crackled with it as it bounced off the shit already simmering between them all.

  “Sergei said you pretended to fuck some pussy to get rid of your kid’s mother,” Reynard said casually, making Alek’s stomach turn. “Well, he didn’t pretend. He was dipping into a whore when he should have been at a soccer game picking up Renee and Evan. That’s where the guilt comes from. They waited at that field for over an hour. Renee knew why he wasn’t there, and she called one of her friends. Did you know she was planning on taking their boy and going back to Russia?” He looked at Alek then V before shrugging and going on. “What she didn’t know was that her friend was one of Artur Baikov’s women. When Artur learned a Tarasov wife and kid were alone in a park in the middle of New York, he told his old man, and they took advantage. Renee and Evan wouldn’t have died if your cousin hadn’t been consoling himself because his marriage was falling apart.”

  The tragedy of it all became overwhelming then but Alek pushed through. “And you partnered with him on every job. Why didn’t you go to my uncle with any of this?”

  “Why would I? Sergei lined my pockets more than Vasily ever personally did. You gotta know it was mostly about the money. I didn’t get my jollies pouring some shit into your woman’s body wash to poison her kid. But the five grand that was handed over afterward did a good job of knocking the shitty feelings away.”

  Five thousand dollars? That was the value they’d place on Lekzi’s life?

  Seeing red, Alek brought up the handful of syringes and punched them through the motherfucker’s sweater and into his chest, right over the empty cavern that should have housed a heart. He nodded for the boys to let Reynard fall and watched as the guy yanked the needles out and threw them aside.

  With an image in his mind of Yuri inserting a tube down Lekzi’s throat and into her tiny stomach, he dragged a struggling Reynard to the edge of the roof. With Anton’s help, he got the piece of garbage over the railing. Alek held him by the ank
les, four stories up, and enjoyed the sound of his shrieks echoing off the buildings around them.

  “Even though I find it sickening, I appreciate your honesty, Reynard,” he said calmly.

  Vincente bumped Alek’s arm and put his hands out to take over.

  Without hesitating, Alek released the murdering cocksucker. But it wasn’t into V’s grip.

  As windows began to light up, he and his boys walked away. Reynard’s scream faded…faded…then suddenly ended.

  “Well, Jesus Christ,” V muttered as he came up on Alek’s flank as they headed down the stairs. “Interesting to see Vasily’s sovietnik at work. Too bad there weren’t more witnesses. All the bullshit questions about your commitment to the life would stop if you let others see this side of you.”

  Sovietnik. The fact that Vincente dropped the label let Alek know Maksim had been talking. The title made Alek the most trusted individual to the Pakhan of their organization. It said he was to Vasily what Vincente was to Gabriel.

  When they reached the street, they jumped into a nondescript SUV with dead plates. It would take them a few blocks over to where the Kombat waited with a driver. They would trade-off, and while they headed home, the SUV would be taken back to the garage. The plates would be destroyed and the vehicle painted. It would be ready for use again by the weekend.

  As they pulled to the curb, the sound of sirens split through the night. But Alek paid no attention as they opened and closed doors and settled into the Kombat. He was too busy coming to terms with something.

  At this point in his life, embracing the title his uncle had been proposing for years would offer Sacha and their daughter an extra layer of protection. It was that realization that had Alek finally making the decision to accept it. He would give his uncle the okay to announce the appointment.

  But he would run it by Sacha first because that’s what life partners did.