Page 43 of Born into Darkness
“Well, that’ll work for you, right?” Lev says, grinning at our brother. “Maybe when you’re good and ready, you could bump it up to seventy-five cents.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Vitaly says with a laugh. “I’ve never covered my dick in quarters, but I’ve gotta be good for at least five dollars.”
We all laugh, and Bran grins when his brother signs what’s been said.
Vitaly keeps going and nudges Val’s arm. “I recently saw my son. Put him down for seven-fifty.”
We all laugh, glad for the break in tension while Bran attaches the last few pieces to his rifle. He checks it in a loving way, confirming what his brother had said about it being his baby. There’s a reverence to his actions. He loves this gun and treats it with an obvious respect. When he’s satisfied, he signs something to his brother. Dima laughs and then puts a finger to his lips in the universal sign for quiet before seamlessly transitioning his hands to make what looks like horns on his head. He gives a soft laugh and gently smacks his brother’s arm.
“What does that mean?” Vitaly asks. My brother’s never been good at hiding his curiosity. He’s the nosiest motherfucker I’ve ever met, and he’s even more intrigued with Bran now after hearing about the sensors.
Dima smiles and does the sign again. “Tikhiy D’yavol.”
Vitaly smiles and says in English, “Silent Devil. Well, it fits him, I guess.”
“It does,” Dima agrees. “No one knows Bran is around until the bullet hits them.”
“I’m really looking forward to seeing this,” Vitaly says with a grin.
Dima translates for his brother, who then looks over at my brother and gives him a nod. Bran is a closed book. Even when he signs, there’s a restraint to him. He keeps himself closed off. I’ve seen deaf people sign before, and they’re way more animated. Bran is much more subdued. His facial expressions aren’t exaggerated, he doesn’t mouth words—he’s just silent. I’ve caught him smiling or laughing at something his brother has signed, but other than that, the man is unreadable.
Like Vitaly, I’m intrigued, but unlike Vitaly, I’m not going to pepper him with a million questions that are none of my goddamn business.
“Ten minutes,” Vasily calls out, and we all take the last few minutes to check weapons and make sure everything is ready to go.
I’m already prepared, so I do a quick check and then put my focus on my youngest son. His hair is wet from the spray of water, and despite the worry and stress of the last six weeks, he still looks every bit like the seventeen-year-old that he is. A wave of guilt hits me. He should be at home playing video games with his friends or out on a date, not racing up the Colombian coastline to one of the most dangerous cartels in the world to help rescue his brother.
“Stop looking like that,” he says, raising his voice so I can hear.
“Like what?”
“Guilty,” he says, making me smile at how easily he can read me. “I wanted to come,” he reminds me. “I volunteered. Now, stop worrying and check your earpiece.”
I laugh and do as he says. We’re using a mesh network, each of us equipped with a small radio transceiver so we can be in constant communication while also allowing Niki to disable the cartel's radios, cameras, and electricity. They’ll be left blind, and while the others take out as many of them as they can, Val and I will be leading a small team in to get Max. The plan is to ruin the Amaya family and to leave their compound in ruins.
The motors slow as we get closer, allowing us to ease in quietly. The landing spot we agreed on is far enough away to not draw immediate attention, and as soon as we let Niki know everything is secure, they’ll pull around to the main beach so we won’t have to carry Max longer than necessary.
Easing us closer to the shore, the other boats follow in behind us. Niki opens his laptop case and starts setting up his equipment, his movements just as quick and skilled as Bran’s had been with his weapon, and a surge of pride runs through me at the sight of my son providing such an integral part to our mission. I ruffle his hair before putting the military-grade helmet on his head, tapping it when he rolls his eyes at me.
“It’s bulletproof,” I tell him. “Don’t you dare take it off.”
“I won’t,” he mutters, already putting his focus back on his screen. His fingers fly across the keyboard as I turn back to look at the others. The Medvedevs are signing a conversation with one another while my family gets ready on the other side of the boat. As soon as I’m close enough, Matvey nudges my shoulder.
“Won’t be long now,” he tells me.
I nod and watch Tony slip the backpack he’d loaded up with emergency supplies onto his shoulder. He’s armed, but we’ll be shielding him so he can keep his hands free. Dominic has a quick word with his cousins while I meet my brothers’ eyes and my nephews scoot in closer.
Roman looks at us one by one before saying, “Every last one of us is getting out of here alive. Understood?”
We all nod, knowing it’s the only outcome we’ll allow.
“We’re getting Max, and then we’re getting the fuck out of here,” Lev says, and before Sasha can say anything, he looks at his son and adds, “And we’re wiping out their entire fucking cartel.”
Sasha grins, looking every bit like a kid in a candy store. It’s the first time he’s ever been given true freedom to do whatever the hell he wants to as many people as he wants. He’s usually brought in to torture or kill specific people but never like this, and the excitement bubbling off him is a fucking tangible thing. It mixes with the humidity and jungle noises that pour out of the dense forest in front of us.
Lev wraps an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Do your worst, Sasha, but don’t you dare get hurt. Your mom will fucking kill me if you come back with so much as a scratch.”
Sasha pulls the skull mask he loves from his back pocket and slips it on the top of his head, letting it rest there. I see two handguns strapped to his body, and I’m guessing there’s at least one more hidden away somewhere. The rest of his weapons are knives. His favorite is strapped to his thigh for easy access and because the blade is too long to comfortably put it anywhere else. He has another sheathed horizontally along his lower back, one on his forearm, and just in case he didn’t already have enough, he has two large blades mounted upside down on his Kevlar vest. Sasha is out to have some fun tonight.
