Page 42 of Born into Darkness
“Fuck you, Miguel,” I whisper.
He makes a noise, probably trying to tell me the feeling is mutual, but the noise dies in his throat as he takes his last breath before his whole body goes still. Blood pools around him, pouring out of the wound until his heart stops beating and it slows to a trickle until eventually stopping altogether. Miguel’s eyes are still open. They’re just as empty as when he was alive, but there’s no life in them now. They’re devoid of his usual rage and hate, and I can’t help but wonder what in the hell happened to him to have created such an evil man.
I look down at Max and give his chest a soft pat and say, “I’ve got one hell of a story to tell you when you wake.”
He doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard me, so I focus on what needs to be done next. Forcing myself up, I ditch the cuffs and slowly walk over to the man I just killed. Not wanting to touch him, but knowing I have to, I kneel beside him and start patting him down.
“Are you kidding me?” I mutter, realizing he doesn’t have a gun or a cellphone on his body. All I find is another knife, but this one is bigger than the one I stuck in his neck, so I keep it, grateful that I don’t have to pull mine out. Rolling him over, so I don’t have to look at his face anymore, I leave him where he is and go back over to Max. Sitting in front of him so my body is between him and the door, I grip the knife in one hand and put all my attention on the door.
I flinch when I hear gunshots going off above us. One bloody hand rests on Max’s thigh, the other is still gripping the knife, and I know we’re good and fucked if a bunch of Lorenzo’s men come barging through the door. There’s no way to lock it, and there’s nothing in here to brace against it. My eyes flit to the ceiling when more gunshots go off.
“Please tell me that’s you, Dad,” I whisper.
Regardless of who it is, I’m not leaving Max. Anyone who comes through that door is going to have to go through me to get to him. I told him we were in this together to the end, and I meant every word of that promise.
Either we leave this place together, or we don’t leave it at all.
Chapter9
Danil
After landing in Colombia, we were loaded onto trucks and driven to our next location where speedboats were waiting to take us up the coast to Necoclí. It has been the most grueling, intense nine hours of my life. Our family is sharing a boat with the Medvedev family, while the other three trail right behind us, filled with men and extra supplies. The drivers know the path well, using the moon and navigation systems to take us along the coastline so we can keep the lights off.
I lean closer so Niki can hear me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” He grips the waterproof case his laptop is in, and despite the worry I see on his face, he’s not showing any signs of fear. He has a gun, and he’ll be staying on the boat with three armed men. He’s as safe as I can possibly make him given the circumstances.
“We’ll have your brother back in less than two hours,” I tell him.
He nods, just as ready for this to be over with as I am.
“How you holding up, Tony?”
I turn at the sound of Vitaly’s voice, and can’t help but give a soft laugh when I see my brother smack Tony on the back. The young doctor is in tactical gear, and I know the bulletproof vest must be providing at least a little comfort. Tony isn’t a soldier. His part in the Alessi Mafia doesn’t involve tearing men apart. His job is purely to put people back together. He’s completely out of his element, but he’s embracing this new change in his job description with the same kind of focus and determination that he uses for everything he does.
Tony smiles at my brother and shrugs his shoulders. “So far it’s easier than med school,” he hollers over the sound of the motor and wind.
Vitaly laughs and turns his attention to Vasily’s sons. Bran and Dima are deep in conversation, hands moving so quickly that I’m amazed they can each keep up with what the other is saying. Bran’s rifle is in a hard-shell case at his feet. It hasn’t left his side during the entire trip, including the flight out here. It’s always within reaching distance of him. He signs one more thing to his brother before leaning down and opening the case.
“Goddamn,” Vitaly mutters, scooting to the edge of his seat so he can see the dismantled pieces of Bran’s sniper rifle. Each piece of the rifle is secure in the foam cut-outs, and when he starts assembling the pieces, his movements are sure and quick. It’s obvious he’s been doing this for years and is well acquainted with every inch of this beautiful weapon.
“Is that an Accuracy International AXMC?” Lev asks from his seat.
Dima looks over at us and grins. “It is. He’s had a lot of modifications done to it. This gun is his fucking baby.”
I can hear the pride in his voice when he talks about his brother, and it reminds me of my own sons and how they interact with one another. It also raises Vasily up in my estimation. He’s obviously not a shit father, and that’s something my brothers and I respect the hell out of. Our parents were assholes, and after we left Russia, we never looked back. We always swore we’d never end up like them. Family is everything to us, and judging by what I’ve seen, the Medvedev brothers feel the same way.
Dima pushes a button on his watch, checking the time before waving his hand in Bran’s periphery to get his brother’s attention instead of startling the hell out of him with a smack on the back. Bran looks up, nodding at whatever Dima signs to him and then goes back to assembling his weapon. When Dima starts checking a small device that’s clipped to his belt, curiosity gets the better of my brother.
Vitaly leans forward and points, because he truly has no manners. “What is that thing?”
Dima holds up the device and signs the question to Bran, who then slips off one of the black gloves he’s wearing and pulls up the sleeve of his shirt. There isn’t enough light to see what he’s trying to show us, so Dima points at his brother’s wrist and says, “He has sensors on his body. They’re wireless patches that I can send messages to.”
He holds the device he’s wearing up again, and says, “I can type a message, and depending on what that message is, it’ll vibrate on one of the patches Bran is wearing, relaying the information instantly to him. For example, when it’s time for him to head back to the boat, the patch on his right shoulder will vibrate.”
“No fucking shit?” Vitaly asks, completely in awe of this technology, and then because he is who he is, he can’t help but ask, “Those are small, vibrating sensors? Can you put them anywhere on your body?” He laughs and nudges Lev’s arm. “This mission could be a whole lot more enjoyable.”
Bran waits for Dima to translate since it’s too dark for him to read lips. I watch him smirk before he signs something back. Dima laughs and says, “He said the sensors are only about the size of a quarter.”
