Saving Anya (9 page)

The conversation was getting serious. The men in the back guarding the girl suddenly became quiet. Her knowledge was far too in-depth for a child her age. But Balthazar was unmoved by the little girl’s performance and his greed was far too great to stop now. “You seem like a very smart girl. So, if I were you, I would try not to make trouble. Just because I have to return you, doesn’t mean you have to be all in onepiece . You could lose an ear or one of those pretty little eyes before you get home. And for what? Because you had a smart mouth? Is it really worth it?”

The thought silenced Anya and put fear into her heart. Pursing her lips together, she wiped the traitor tear falling down her cheek and hid her face in her lap. Rocking back and forth, she quietly sang the lullaby to herself that her father sang to her every night before bed. It was then that it hit her. She knew that language. Her classmate had spoken it.
Croatian.

The trip down the bumpy road didn’t take long. Before Anya knew it, the truck had stopped, and she and her box were being pulled out in a very small garage by two men who carried her up the stairs into a dark room where she was sat down on the floor and left alone.

She listened carefully and could hear the rumblings of men’s voices and then the distinct bell-like voice of a woman. Anya strained her head against the box, trying to hear the conversation but all she could gather was that she was speaking French. And while Anya did not speak a lick of Croatian, she did speak French. Brigitte had taught her before she left, and several of the girls at her school spoke French.

The woman was saying something about her father, her brother, but she was speaking far too quickly to understand all of it. Frustrated, she sat back and heaved a defeated sigh. She missed her mother’s arms, her father’s voice, she missed home.

Dmitry had told Anya that if she were ever kidnapped to pay attention to everything and everyone. She was trying to do just that. The room that she was in, however, was pitch black. Not a single light was on and the only illumination came from the bottom of the door. She knew that it was daylight, but that was all.

Finally, she heard footsteps coming towards her. The door creaked open and the light flickered on.

Anya looked up to see a tall woman with blonde hair emerge in a pair of jeans, long, pointy boots and a sage-colored turtleneck. She bent down to the crate that Anya was housed in and gleamed in at her with piercing blue eyes.

“
Bonjour,” the woman said with a grin.

“
Hello,” Anya replied, astonished at the familiarity in the woman’s face.

The woman could see the recognition in the little girl’s face. Reaching into the crate with her gloved hand, she touched Anya’s cheek and wiped away the tear. “Such a pretty little Medlov.”

“
And who are you?” Anya asked curiously.

The woman waited for a minute. A million emotions flashed on her face before she finally replied. Getting up off her knees, she looked down at the box and ordered the men to open it. “She’s not an animal. Take her out of there.”

“
But we must keep her contained,” Balthazar protested.

“
She’s a five-year old child in a country far from her home. I think that she’ll be fine in this room,” the woman said, wanting to get a better view of the girl. “Now open this
fucking
box.” Folding her arms, she waited.

One of the men in tactical gear quickly took the key out of his pocket, unlocked the box and opened it for Anya to stand up. She did so gratefully, stretching her body after many long hours of being locked down like an animal.

“
Now, isn’t that better?” the woman asked softly as she went over to Anya.

“
Yes, thank you,” Anya said, looking over at Balthazar. She had been playing her mother and father against each other for years to get what she wanted, so she knew just how to have these two at each other’s throats in a matter of hours.

The woman was much taller when she wasn’t crouching. Hair as golden as sunlight, eyes as blue as the Caspian sea, full rose-colored lips, high cheek bones, long legs that seemed to stretch a mile-long, she looked more like an angel than a demon.

Anya was drawn to the mysterious woman, like they knew each other. Why? She wasn’t sure, but there was definitely something there in the twinkle of the woman’s eyes.

“
Why don’t we get you something to eat and some new clothes. Just because you have to stay here with us, doesn’t mean you have to be treated like an animal,
da
?” the woman said with a glimmer in her eyes.

“
Oh no. I’m not changing the little crumb snatcher’s clothes. I may be a villain, but I’m not a monster,” Balthazar said, stepping back.

“
Don’t be ridiculous. The maids will do it. I wouldn’t let you touch my dog,” she answered with the role of her eyes.

“
Whatever. We need to get ready to make first contact, now that you’re done with your little
reunion
,” he said, turning and bolting out of the door.

“
Don’t pay attention to him. He’s just anxious,” the strange woman said to Anya. She smiled once more at Anya and tapped her on the head before she left also. Saying something to one of the guards as she pointed outside of her door, Anya knew that she was being held hostage, but she was also developing a plan to make a few allies while she was here.

Chapter 8

The police had already been escorted off the Medlov property many hours ago. After a call to the chief, and a quick investigation, the higher-ups had agreed to give Dmitry any
assistance needed
– even though they knew that it wouldn’t be.

The local government knew Dmitry Medlov well. And they knew their city even better. No fool in his right mind would hide the daughter of such a dangerous and powerful billionaire in plain sight there. It had been agreed upon by all involved that Anya Medlov was gone, probably to another country by now
, if she was still alive
. And while Dmitry Medlov was on the surface just a business man, every politician who had ever been on his payroll knew that he could and would take care of this matter himself.

However, Anya’s profile was now on the wire. International governments and law enforcement officials knew that she was missing and there was no way possible to get her into a country through the normal means. They also were awaiting a hellacious and nearly untraceable war. It was inevitable. Officials everywhere were just waiting for the bodies to start dropping, surprised that there had not already been any reports.

But Dmitry was waiting.

Within 21 hours of Anya’s abduction, every Medlov family member that had been dispatched from around the world had landed in Prague.

Arriving in private jet to the main airport, they were all quickly carted off in helicopters to Dmitry’s chateau outside of the city.

Stepan was in-charge of coordinating not only arrangements but transportation for getting everyone to the chateau. He did so without error and as efficiently as possible.

On the home front, the Medlov chateau had been transformed into a paramilitary headquarters and the entire farm had been placed on lockdown.

Bodyguards lined the perimeter and set up check points while others stood post on the tops of the mansion and on its various floors. The entire place had been turned into a fortress.

All support staff including maids and yard hands had been sent home indefinitely except for Stepan, while helicopters of trained men from Dmitry’s short list of assassins kept landing every few hours in the front yard. They came from all over the world. Tall, short, muscular, lean, menacing and well-dressed, they poured into the home. Each looked the part of the role he was about to play.

The entire dining hall had been set up with computers, guns and munitions, tech support and team of black bag professionals who were compiling lists on all of Dmitry’s top enemies along with their recent activities.

Large monitors had been placed on all the walls tracking everything from I.P. addresses to conversations on landlines and cell phones, to actual movements of some of Dmitry’s most hated enemies.

Every favor that could be called in had been called in to European, African, Columbian, Chinese, Australian and American judges, Intel agents, field agents, government officials, etc. The world on was on tap. Yet, no one could find Anya.

Refusing to feel a bit delayed, Dmitry stood out in the sitting room, which had been turned into the family’s forward operation base for his paramilitary forces and spoke with Liv, the designated leader of his field men, while the some sixty men who had been recruited to help find Anya settled in the various rooms on the third and first level of the chateau.

“
We need to develop four teams,” Liv said with his large right hand planted into his left as he looked up at his boss. He was miniature Dmitry, bulky, blonde, blue-eyed and Russian. Only he was half of Dmitry’s age and had spent a considerable time in the military before he came to work for mob bosses. “Two teams for here, one team mobile and one team to do the hits. Each team will be comprised of ten men.”

“
Isn’t that a lot?” Dmitry asked, second guessing the man’s strategy.

Liv was obviously taken aback. “Well, a few guys from each team focus on tech and communication while the others actually complete the op. So, it’s a standard number.”

Dmitry nodded as he looked through the files on each man table piled high. He knew about
standard numbers
. He’d been paying for hits since before this kid was alive. Ten was a large fucking number, but he didn’t push it, especially if it meant getting Anya back. Spare no expense. “And they all have experience?” he asked.

Liv quickly listed off on his fingers, “Yes, experience in Kosovo, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, some of them South America. Plus, all of them are Russian, per your request.”

“
Good,” Dmitry said, closing the top file. He raised his brow. “I don’t want anyone who is not a
Russian
national out in the field for any reason. The guys who aren’t Russian and are working this are here under my thumb. Gabriel, my nephew, and a few others are the only ones who are getting a little leeway, everyone else who is here working is not allowed to leave this compound or communicate with the outside world unless assigned to.”

“
That brings me to you home team…the uhh…the alpha and bravo company will be here on two shifts to help secure the perimeter and reinforce the current guards on site,” Liv added, feeling nervous as he saw the vein in Dmitry’s head protrude as he gave his stern wishes. It was amazing that the giant could be so formidable in such a calm conversation.

Dmitry knew that he intimidated Liv but he cared nothing about it. Continuing on with the conversation, he said curtly, “That makes a total of…” He counted in his head. “Fifty men on the property at all times?”

“
Correct,’ Liv answered. “That should be more than enough.”

Dmitry sucked his teeth. “That’s a lot to be monitored. So, I want to keep the alpha company on one wing of the house, and the bravo company on the other side when they are not on duty. No fraternizing. Keep the guards who secure the perimeter together out in the barn. We’ll make sure that it’s up to par. More guns and ammunition will arrive in the next 45 minutes. We’ll distribute some and store the others. I want to make it very clear that if there is an ambush on my property by any of your men for any reason, the first person who I will be coming for is
you
.”

“
Yes, sir,” Liv said, realizing that his boss not only didn’t trust anyone but also didn’t mind killing anyone. He had worked for Boss Medlov for over three years and never once had he felt the stress he felt now and he’d only been here a couple of hours.

Dmitry’s eyes sparkled with promise. “Very well. If you would tend to that now and spread my wishes to all who are involved, then I’ll go and speak with my intelligence team.”

“
Yes, sir,” Liv said, excusing himself quickly.

Chapter 9

Dmitry strategized in his head all the necessary moves that would need to be made in the next two days by his men as he walked slowly through the dimly lit limestone hallways, past guards and fine art, to see his son and nephew, who were anxiously awaiting his audience.

Unfortunately, he had not had the opportunity to speak to them since they had arrived. Busy with his team, trying to keep it together, and continuously checking on Royal and the twins had kept both of his hands full. Still they lingered on his mind.

He hoped that they would be willing to do what he needed, not because of money, or name but because of blood. Blood had become important to him lately. It made all the sense in the world now.

For a moment, he felt a small measure guilt deep in his heart for the man that he buried a few hundred feet from the house, a man he couldn’t bring himself to burn or blow up as his little brother had once suggested. Evgeny Smirnov- his father – had been given a private burial by himself.

Dmitry had gone out late one night when the ground was soft and buried his frozen father, who had spent months in the cellar just below his feet and said a few words over his lifeless body before he covered him with earth and never looked back. It was a strange sort of funeral to give the former Czar of the underworld, but he and that man had business, personal business, to attend to and it had ended as it had because of…blood.