“No prisoners unless they have information about additional threats. Everyone else dies.” My voice carries absolute finality. “Mikhail wanted to balance the scales by taking my family. Instead, he’s about to learn he would have been smarter to take the loss and walk away years ago.”
Timur nods grimly, understanding the stakes have shifted beyond tactical considerations into personal warfare. This isn’t business. It’s about family, which means normal rules no longer apply.
“Your personal armored vehicle is standing by, and I have a transponder on it. Our transport leaves in fifteen minutes, and we’ll have a full convoy with air support on standby.” He checks his weapons. “The medical team is also turning back from the mountain retreat and will be on-site for emergency treatment if Willa needs immediate care.”
The mention of medical needs makes my stomach clench with new fear. Willa’s pregnancy creates complications beyondnormal hostage situations. High stress, physical trauma, or medical emergencies could threaten not just her life but the lives of our unborn children.
“Make sure the medical team understands multiple pregnancy protocols.” I gather additional ammunition while speaking. “If something goes wrong during the rescue?—”
“They’re prepared for every scenario.” His reassurance cuts through my worst fears. “The obstetrician is on standby, and there’s a hospital capable of doing a C-section within ten minutes via the chopper if things go wrong.”
He makes no mention of NICU capabilities, but that doesn’t matter. If something forces her into preterm labor now, our babies can’t possibly survive at fourteen weeks, so that simply can’t happen. I force myself to focus on tactical realities instead of catastrophic possibilities. Willa is strong, resourceful, and determined to protect our children. She’ll survive whatever Mikhail puts her through until I can reach her.
In the armory, I select additional weapons, loading extra magazines, tactical knives, flash-bang grenades, and even a couple of bricks of C-4 with detonators. I take anything I could possibly need to turn Mikhail’s fortress into his tomb. The familiar weight of combat gear settles around me like armor. It’s more emotional than physical.
“One more thing.” I turn to Timur as we prepare to leave. “When we find Mikhail, I want him alive long enough to understand exactly what he’s lost by threatening her.”
“Understood.” His voice carries cold professionalism that’s kept us both alive through years of warfare. “Personal justice before tactical completion.”
As we move through the estate’s corridors, I think about the conversation I should have had with Willa this morning instead of fighting about priorities and ultimatums. She wanted partnership, and I gave her defensiveness. She asked for presence, and I offered excuses. I have to have a chance to make that up to her, along with all my other mistakes. No other outcome is acceptable.
Our convoy waits in the garage with engines running and men who’ve sworn loyalty with their lives loading final equipment. I leave first in my armored sedan, giving the appearance of coming alone. My men will be five minutes behind me. In forty minutes, I’ll reach Mikhail’s compound and settle a blood debt that’s been accumulating interest since his brother’s death.
Willa needs the monster Mikhail remembers, not the domesticated version I’ve been trying to become for her sake. When I reach that compound, everyone between me and the woman I love will discover why people used to fear my name. By sunset, Willa will be home safely, and Mikhail will have learned some threats carry consequences beyond his imagination.
This ends where it began—with violence and the simple truth that anyone who threatens my family dies. This time, I’m not fighting for territory or respect but for the only future worth having.
