by Raven Rivers
The Russian accent was clear enough to discern. The voice was one she didn’t recognize. Not caring for his demeanor, she shot back, “Who the hell might you be?”
“Let’s save the introductions until I have you safely in hand, shall we?”
“How about hell to the no on that one?” she sneered, moving back a few steps.
“I’m afraid I must insist.”
Shifting the hand in her purse from her keys to her weapon, she turned, dropping her purse and readying herself for combat. Tony’s conditioning kicked in effortlessly and she stepped forward, mentally preparing herself. Closing her fist around the spiked brass knuckles, she kept her hand down so he wouldn’t see them. Information clicked through her mind. It normally takes a kidnapper less than ten seconds to choose a target. If he got her in his car, her chances of survival would diminish by roughly fifty percent.
Standing tall, she glowered at burly man and was careful to look him in the eye. “I’ve been abducted once before. The accommodations weren’t all that great and everyone died. Fair warning, I’m not going down that road again.”
“Don’t make me get mean, sweetie. I was a professional boxer.”
Snarling at him, she responded, “Fifty pounds and ten years ago, maybe you were. Now you’re just an easy, slow-moving target.”
Stalking forward he growled, “Leave it to me to end up grabbing the one doctor on the planet brave enough to trash talk her abductor. Fucking hell, what’s the world coming to?”
Barreling up to her, he was doing what all men did: underestimating her. Bringing up her left fist in a distraction, she nailed him hard in the shoulder with her right. Stepping back, she was furious at having missed his neck.
When he realized she was wearing spiked brass knuckles and had come damn close to ripping a hole in his carotid artery, he looked shocked. “You fucking bitch!”
The most dangerous part of an abduction is first contact, especially if the woman chooses to fight. The next most dangerous period is the thirty minutes following the abduction when the kidnapper is still amped up and anxious. With some careful concentration during the former, along with a little luck, she wouldn’t have to worry about the latter.
He came at her again and she kicked the heel of her boot, ejecting the knife hidden in the tip. Having decided a long time ago that she was not going to allow herself to be taken alive, Tony had helped her plan for a day like this. Bringing both hands up in the traditional fighting pose, she waited for him to get close enough to strike.
He was focused on not getting hit by her spiked weapon again. The moment he came within range she kicked him in the stomach. The knife went in and she wiggled her foot to cause a substantial gash, then stepped back. His hand went to his stomach and blood began to gush out. He fell backward onto his ass, a look of shock on his face.
Wasting no time, she pivoted and ran to her car. Grabbing her purse up along the way, she plunged her hand in and hit the key fob before she even pulled it out. Jumping into the driver’s seat, she slammed the door closed and locked it. Tossing her purse aside, she hit the button to start the keyless ignition.
Sparing the man a glance as she shifted gears, she saw the hate-filled look on his face as he stared back at her. His hand came up, only now it was holding a large handgun. He fired off so many shots that she lost count. Her father insisted that all their vehicles be armored, so she was basically bulletproof. Somehow, that didn’t make her feel much better. Shifting gears again, she pulled out into the sunshine.
Yeah, doctors were supposed to save lives, not take them. However, in this instance, the horrible man could go straight to hell. Who knows what kind of evil he’d had in mind for her? Grabbing the cell phone that had spilled out of her purse, she frantically called Alek.
“Hello, beautiful, how are you today?”
“Shitty! Some Russian guy just tried to abduct me in the Forty-Second Street parking garage.” Shaking, she pulled out of the garage and headed home.
Alek’s voice was an angry growl. “What? Are you alright?”
“I’m safe. I made it to my car and got away, but I had to almost gut him in the process.”
“Did you recognize him? Where are you? I’ll come right away.”
“I’m about ten minutes from my house.”
“Don’t go there. They might come to make a second attempt. Come to Timur’s place. I’ll text you the address.”
“No. I don’t think it’s a very good idea to hide out in the lion’s den.”
“I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t thinking,” Alek groaned, clearly frustrated.
“I’m going to my parent’s place. Can you meet me there?”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
Tossing the phone aside, Sharon drove to her family’s home in silence. Skidding to a stop halfway on the grass, she stumbled out of the car. Forgetting to turn off the engine or close the door, she walked up to the front door and opened it. Her father was reading an actual newspaper. Who the hell reads newspapers in this day and age? It was a testament to his old-school nature. Running her hands through her hair, she began to pace back and forth.
Tony came barreling through the door. “What the fuck is wrong with—” Stopping in mid-sentence, he slowly walked over to her. “What happened, sis?”
She heard her father put down his newspaper, then gasp.
Pausing in mid-step, she looked down at herself. The knife was still sticking out of the front of her boot and she was still wearing the spikes. For some reason she didn’t know, she walked over and stood in the corner. Perhaps the confines of the walls offered her a sense of safety, even though she was with her family. Tony reached out to touch her arm and she blocked him. “Get the fuck off of me. I mean it. Stay away.”
Wrapping her arms around her stomach, images flew through her mind. Carlos was lying in a pool of his own blood on the pavement and she was being dragged away. She couldn’t stop them from taking her, no matter how much she screamed. Why did that happen to her?
She could hear voices. Her mother said something about her being in shock. Her father was cursing under his breath. Feeling something warm dripping down her arm, she thought vaguely it must be blood. Blood without pain. Was that possible? Why, yes, it was. In stressful situations, the human body blocks out the pain to give us time to escape the danger. Do we ever truly escape the danger?
Squeezing her eyes shut, Sharon knew her thoughts were fracturing from the stress. An image played in her mind. It was her looking out her side window to see her would-be abductor raising that gun. He squeezed the trigger over and over. From her side of the glass, there were thuds and nothing more.
Her mother gently turned her around. “Sweetheart, are you okay? Talk to me, baby. Give me a sign that you’re still in there somewhere.”
Snubbing back a tear, Sharon whispered, “I think I killed him, mama.” Unable to help herself, she felt her eyes water. “And the worst part is, I’m not even sorry.”
Alek came bursting through the door. His eyes took in the chaos for a second before he rushed over to her. She stepped out to meet him. He knew what she’d been through. Wrapping her up in his arms, he told her soothingly, “Everything is going to be okay. We’ll catch the bastard. This I promise you.”
Looking up at him, her voice came back. “He’s not dead?”
Shoving her hair roughly out of her face, he answered gruffly, “We sent men. There was blood and steak, but no body. We’re checking all the hospitals now.”
Sobbing, she was embarrassed at not being able to control her emotions. This situation was triggering memories of her first abduction and the feelings of fear and helplessness had momentarily swamped her.
Alek walked her over to the sofa and sat with his arm around her. Sharon tried her best to pull her mess together. Everyone was quiet, and she knew it was because they didn’t want her to check out mentally again. Someone handed her a box of tissues and she dabbed at her eyes. “I’m better now.”
“Someone tried to abduct Sharon at the Forty-Second Street parking garage. I told her not to go home and she felt safe here. I came straight here and Timur sent men to the parking garage. They found blood, lots of it, but no body.”
Tony’s smug voice sounded off. “They were stupid fuckers if they thought one man could take her.”
Alek reached for her hand and slipped off the spiked brass knuckles. “Let’s get rid of this for now, shall we, sweetness?”
Nodding, she watched him lay it on the coffee table.
Reaching down he grabbed her feet and removed her boots. “I don’t know how you drove here with that knife sticking out.”
Sharon didn’t answer because no explanation came to mind. “He was Russian, short, fat, bald, and said he used to be a boxer.”
Reaching for his cell, Alek pulled up an image. “Is this him?”
Shaking her head, she responded, “Looks almost like him, only older.”
Swiping another picture into place, his expression turned grim. When he held up the phone this time, she gagged. Someone scooted her over a wastebasket. Keeping it close, she nodded and recounted what had happened. “I almost got his carotid artery with my spikes but brought him down with a kick to the gut. I tore a hole open that was maybe four inches. He shot at me as I drove away, emptying a whole clip.”
Alek asked quietly, “Did he say why he wanted you?”
“No. My best guess is he either thought I was Cassandra or couldn’t get to her because she was too well guarded, so he settled for me.”
“It’s our traitor or a link to him,” Victor grumbled. “Who is he?”
Alek passed Victor his cell phone for him to see the man’s face. “His name is Gustov. He is one of Timur’s bratva; the one who urges more risk than Timur considers advisable.”
“We need to find him.”
“All of you can do what you like,” Alek said. “Timur’s men are on this and I have a woman to see to. She comes first for me.”
“I want to take a shower and rest for just a little bit,” Sharon sighed.
Alek stood and offered his hand. “Come. I will see to your needs.”
Stepping into the shower, Sharon allowed Alek to wash her off. He carefully mimicked her own bathing ritual, right down to putting leave-in conditioner on the ends of her hair. Drying her off, he tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead. Scooting up behind her, he pulled her back against his stomach and tucked her head under his chin.
She felt warm, safe, and so very tired. Drifting off to sleep, all the horrible images slipped away. Something about being safe in her family home and nestled in the big man’s arms was all it took for her sleep peaceably.
Chapter 21
House Call
Alek
Alek, on the other hand, wasn’t able to rest so easily. Unable to sleep, he kept a close watch on his slumbering lover. He was torn, not wanting to leave her side, but feeling a fierce need to track down the bastard who traumatized her and squeeze the life out of him. Since her mother had given her something to help her sleep and he didn’t think she’d probably wake, his protective instincts kicked in. Intent on seeing her wake to a world free of danger, he slipped out of the bed and quietly out of her bedroom.
Padding softly downstairs with his shoes in one hand, his coat in the other, and his cellphone tucked under his arm, he slowed at the bottom of the stairs after hearing Timur’s voice.
“He didn’t turn up in any of the local area hospitals.”
“What about the doctors our organization uses in a crisis?” Victor sounded off.
“No contact there, either.”
Alek walked into the room. “What about the medical professionals associated with our kickboxing? If he is an ex-boxer, he may have contacts with sports doctors. Though they aren’t surgeons, he might feel confident going to them for care.”
Timur gestured to a space beside him on the sofa. “That’s a good idea. Have a seat.”
Charles asked quietly, “How’s my daughter?”
“She’s sleeping well right now. I prefer to have this sorted by the time she wakes.”
Timur had been flipping through documents on his phone. “Gustov was last active eight years ago. He used a physician who is now retired. I remember them as being fairly close. I have every reason to suspect this is our best lead.”
Pulling on his shoes, Alek stated, “Please push his contact information to my phone. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Fuck that, you aren’t going alone,” Tony’s brash voice scoffed from across the room. “You winding up dead is not going to ingratiate any of us to the women in this family.”
“Who are you? Have we met? Show me some ID.”
Tony snorted a laugh, breaking the dark mood hanging like a thick cloud in the room.
“Fuck you, you overbearing bastard. I still can’t believe you made me show ID for you to drop off my own sister. That’s messed up.”
Coming swiftly to his feet, Alek nodded and said, “So is this situation with Gustov. I do not know what the crazy fucker wants, but I am going to find out.”
“I’m in, and you will both follow my lead,” Victor stated firmly.
“I say hell no to that idea” Tony chuckled in bemusement. “You just rolled into town a minute or so ago. You’ve got no contacts and no idea how to navigate this city. Just stand behind me and keep your gun in your hand.”
Victor immediately shot Charles an earnest look. “What’s the penalty for giving your son a small attitude adjustment?”
Coming to his feet as well, the older man chuckled and replied, “Penalty? I’d fucking pay you to put a little smackdown on him. Hell, I’d even pay extra to watch.” Tony growled his disapproval, but his father continued matter-of-factly, “Unfortunately, now is not the time for a pissing contest between the two of you. I want you, Tony, and Alek to track this bastard down and get to the bottom of this. Forget about trying to do if before Sharon wakes up. You can’t rush dangerous shit like this over a woman, even if she is my daughter. The important thing is to get to the bottom of this once and for all.”
Victor assured him, “I’ll track down every lead and leave no stone unturned.”
Karl had been sitting back, taking in the conversation. Finally, he offered some words of wisdom to his son. “Tracking the traitor down will be easy compared to unraveling his scheme. Remember, you can kick a man’s ass any day, but your window of opportunity is small and there are many details to uncover in how deep and how malignant this treachery runs in our organization. The Nash name has been harmed by their association with our family. Our honor is at stake. Nothing less than your best will do on this one, son. Take my men and make interesting shit happen today. Now is the time to prove your worth.”
A slow smile crept over Victor’s face. If Alek had to guess, Victor rarely found himself in an opportunity to climb into the trenches this way. Normally, his organization had people for that.
Three men with differing motivations were teaming up to go after the same target. Tony was clearly motivated by love for his sister. He also had a strong internal motivation to prove, being a gangster, and operating on his own turf gave him an obvious advantage. Victor, being poised to take over the East Coast operation, was intent on making an indelible mark, fit to remind everyone of his strength, cunning, and power. Naturally, he’d place a high importance on righting the wrong done to his wife’s twin sister. Alek didn’t care about anything but eliminating the threat. He was in for the duration of the fight, and willing to crawl all the way down the proverbial rabbit hole on this one.
The one thing they all had in common today was a genuine dedication in getting the job done. If they could just work together instead of at odds with each other, Alek was convinced they could make short work of this.
“We take Tony’s men on this one. Leave your crew behind
, Victor,” he told them.
Victor nodded in agreement. “Until we know for sure who’s tainted, it’s best to leave them out of the loop. No communication with anyone but my father until the job is done.”
Tony pulled out his cell. “This is going to be much easier than I thought.”
Alek shot Victor a quick look. The other man was inspecting his weapons and tucking them neatly under his jacket. So far, so good. Alek went out to this vehicle and sorted out his own weapons. He dumped some extra guns and ammo into a small duffel bag and headed to Tony’s waiting SUV. Victor was already present with his own bag.
Picking up his phone, Alek pulled up Timur’s information on their target. “Gustov used a physician by the name of Eleanor Jackson when he was fighting. Timur’s records revealed they stopped using Gustov after a head injury. Though it didn’t impair his thought processes, more head trauma was likely to aggravate a small cluster of brain lesions in a sensitive part of his brain.”
Tony shot him a quick look over his shoulder from behind the wheel. “That’s a lot of specific information from a long time ago.”
Victor spoke as he scrolled through the information Alek had sent to his phone. Timur kept his information locked in a cloud and now Victor had the link. “Information is power. Russians normally keep meticulous records.”
“Timur is more methodical than most. He gathers and keeps large amounts of intelligence like those crazy hoarders from the television shows.” Alek didn’t think that was necessarily a bad thing, though his phrasing probably suggested otherwise.
“That’s why we keep our family’s information locked down,” Tony boasted with a proud smile.
“You’ve had eighty-three stitches during your lifetime for at least forty-five conflicts, mostly before you turned twenty,” Victor smirked, glancing up from his phone. “It says so right here in Timur’s file on you. It also says you had testicular torsion when you were ten.”
“Fucking hell, is nothing private in the world anymore?” Tony’s voice sounded more disgusted than enraged. “Where in the fuck are we going?”
