Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4) (41 page)

As Reynard’s bloodshot gaze bounced between Alek and V, some of his aggression left him. “You’re pretty fuckin’ brave pulling this shit in a Baikov stronghold. For all you know, Sergei and some of the boys could be ready to ambush you the minute you hit the front walk. How the fuck did you find me anyway?”

Alek had called Maks during the ride and had been told a safety net of spotters had been set up around the building and surrounding streets. If anyone other than an old lady walking her poodle tried to get in or out the front or back doors, they’d be detained and released once Alek and company were gone. And if any vehicles neared with occupants resembling associates of theirs, a warning would be immediate and backup would be sent in.

He didn’t share that information now.

“That’s more incentive for you to sing.” Vincente came around and grabbed Reynard’s face in his hand. He squeezed, but nothing made it out other than some muffled shrieks. “A fuckin’ baby, you degenerate?” he growled, slamming the back of Reynard’s head against the wall a couple of times before shoving his face away. “Maybe you’ll feel like ranting when you clue in. You think it’s a coincidence we showed up here? Your pal gave us your location because he’s done with you, asshole. Why not let us boot his ass on your behalf for the double-cross?”

Reynard’s fury was instant. Alek let him ramble off a few curses before getting him on track.

“Any idea what’s driving this machine?” he asked, curious if Sergei’s reasons could be something more than the loss of Renee and Evan.

“Yeah. He’s a bitter, fucked-up pussy rat. He’s guilty as fuck and is blaming his uncle and the organization for all his fuckin’ problems because he can’t get over ’em like the rest of us do.”

So they were on track.

“You wanna fuck him real good and give us some deets?” V’s tone was all let’s-be-friends. “From the info we gathered, he’s found himself a new partner. Must be why he’s turning you in.” It could have been the lie, his situation, or the fact that Reynard just had a big mouth, who knew, but he responded to the bait and sang like a canary.

“He’s been fuckin’ with you guys for a long time. In your camp,” he said to V, his bleeding lips curled up in a sneer. “He and Furio got to be good buddies. Anything he heard last summer about your boss’s woman he sent Furio’s way.”

Alesio was suddenly all ears because he’d had a front row seat to the action that had unfolded in that cabin in Washington State. Stefano Moretti had been shot, and Eva had almost been raped and killed by the man Reynard had just mentioned.

No one dared move as more puzzle pieces were dropped to filled in some of the blanks they hadn’t been aware were there. Was there anything more dangerous than a man who felt as if he’d been betrayed?

“And you personally?” Reynard said, still talking to Vincente. “Your redhead? Yeah, Sergei followed that action. He’s chums with one of the ODMC brothers. Guy tipped Sergei off about the meeting that would take place in that alley where you showed and almost took out the two looking for information on Nollan’s wife. We were the ones who got the porn producer and his buddy out of there before the cops came. They got us in touch with Nollan, and Sergei promised he’d do him a solid and keep him up-to-date on his wife’s movements. That’s how he found your redhead in Astoria. That’s also how Kevin knew where the brother was partying, and that Caleb would be an easy target after having had one too many drinks provided by his Russian comrade.”

Vincente looked ready to explode as he walked away.

“And you guys?” Reynard said to Alek, almost appearing to be enjoying himself now. “Sergei got real brave a few weeks back and danced with the devil by poking his nose into Kirov’s biz. How do you think Eberto Morales knew to target the hot Dr. Mancuso at Coney Island Hospital? And his woman’s kid? Yeah. Sergei gave Morales the boy’s school. Said if his kid was dead, why should hers live?”

Thank fuck Maks wasn’t there. He’d have struck Reynard down right then.

“And then there’s our Pakhan,” Reynard went on. “Back when Sergei found out your uncle had a woman and kid, I don’t think I ever saw him so fuckin’ excited. It wasn’t even a week later that he had a plan in place to take out the little blonde in Seattle. Just after, when he saw Vasily and Gabriel in Rapture, he sniffed around the Italian’s past. How do you think Furio and Stefano learned about Vasily’s kid; your fucked up cousin sent the P.I. they hired a photo of Gabriel with her pretty face circled in the background. Sergei said the fat guy took over from there and found her in a bunch of other pictures he’d already taken.”

As Alek and Anton exchanged a look, Reynard grew quiet and dabbed at his lips with the tip of his tongue. An electric tension returned when Vincente did. The air all but crackled with it as it bounced off the shit already simmering between them all.

“Sergei said you pretended to fuck some pussy to get rid of your kid’s mother,” Reynard said casually, making Alek’s stomach turn. “Well,
he
didn’t pretend. He was dipping into a whore when he should have been at a soccer game picking up Renee and Evan. That’s where the guilt comes from. They waited at that field for over an hour. Renee knew why he wasn’t there, and she called one of her friends. Did you know she was planning on taking their boy and going back to Russia?” He looked at Alek then V before shrugging and going on. “What she didn’t know was that her friend was one of Artur Baikov’s women. When Artur learned a Tarasov wife and kid were alone in a park in the middle of New York, he told his old man, and they took advantage. Renee and Evan wouldn’t have died if your cousin hadn’t been consoling himself because his marriage was falling apart.”

The tragedy of it all became overwhelming then but Alek pushed through. “And you partnered with him on every job. Why didn’t you go to my uncle with any of this?”

“Why would I? Sergei lined my pockets more than Vasily ever personally did. You gotta know it was mostly about the money. I didn’t get my jollies pouring some shit into your woman’s body wash to poison her kid. But the five grand that was handed over afterward did a good job of knocking the shitty feelings away.”

Five thousand dollars? That was the value they’d place on Lekzi’s life?

Seeing red, Alek brought up the handful of syringes and punched them through the motherfucker’s sweater and into his chest, right over the empty cavern that should have housed a heart. He nodded for the boys to let Reynard fall and watched as the guy yanked the needles out and threw them aside.

With an image in his mind of Yuri inserting a tube down Lekzi’s throat and into her tiny stomach, he dragged a struggling Reynard to the edge of the roof. With Anton’s help, he got the piece of garbage over the railing. Alek held him by the ankles, four stories up, and enjoyed the sound of his shrieks echoing off the buildings around them.

“Even though I find it sickening, I appreciate your honesty, Reynard,” he said calmly.

Vincente bumped Alek’s arm and put his hands out to take over.

Without hesitating, Alek released the murdering cocksucker. But it wasn’t into V’s grip.

As windows began to light up, he and his boys walked away. Reynard’s scream faded…faded…then suddenly ended.

“Well, Jesus Christ,” V muttered as he came up on Alek’s flank as they headed down the stairs. “Interesting to see Vasily’s sovietnik at work. Too bad there weren’t more witnesses. All the bullshit questions about your commitment to the life would stop if you let others see this side of you.”

Sovietnik. The fact that Vincente dropped the label let Alek know Maksim had been talking. The title made Alek the most trusted individual to the Pakhan of their organization. It said he was to Vasily what Vincente was to Gabriel.

When they reached the street, they jumped into a nondescript SUV with dead plates. It would take them a few blocks over to where the Kombat waited with a driver. They would trade-off, and while they headed home, the SUV would be taken back to the garage. The plates would be destroyed and the vehicle painted. It would be ready for use again by the weekend.

As they pulled to the curb, the sound of sirens split through the night. But Alek paid no attention as they opened and closed doors and settled into the Kombat. He was too busy coming to terms with something.

At this point in his life, embracing the title his uncle had been proposing for years would offer Sacha and their daughter an extra layer of protection. It was that realization that had Alek finally making the decision to accept it. He would give his uncle the okay to announce the appointment.

But he would run it by Sacha first because that’s what life partners did.

Sergei watched from five rows of vehicles away as the Range Rover pulled into a numbered parking spot. It was quiet in the underground lot, and he was able to hear the expensive SUV idle for a moment before the engine was shut down. The brake lights went off.

Feeling hollow inside, which was not unusual, he took one more look around then brought his favored long-range sniper rifle up. He angled the Lapua so the tip of the barrel rested in the open window, settled his finger on that trigger he was so familiar with, and he waited.

How many times had he done this? Too many. First in Russia, now here in the States.

The driver of the luxury vehicle opened the door and slid out. Not the owner of the vehicle. Not a surprise. Sergei had already known he wasn’t taking out the owner. He was starting a war.

He bent his neck slightly and put his eye to the scope, blinking, completely relaxed.

As Markus Fane straightened from retrieving a briefcase from the confines of the truck, a steady red dot appeared on the back of his neck.

With the slightest pressure, the trigger was pulled. The suppressor did its job by smothering the sound of the shot. He felt nothing when Markus went down. But then, it wasn’t necessary on his part to feel, because there would be more than enough sorrow in their world in the next few hours when word got out that this man was no longer with them. This particular death would cause a damning ripple effect that would reach all the families.

It would have been interesting to witness, he thought as he placed the rifle on the floor behind his seat. But his final job would make that impossible. It was too bad because he’d begun to wonder who would come out on top when those left went head-to-head.

Moretti, Tarasov, or Fane.

His interest in the answer faded away as he started the car and left the scene before security once more did their rounds of the parking garage and found his latest victim. He had a few more stops to make, and then he had to confirm the attendance list for the coming party.

♦ ♦ ♦

After a meeting with Vasily that had him detailing everything he’d learned, Alek had made his way upstairs. He’d found Sacha in Lekzi’s room, wide awake, rocking away with the baby on her chest. After wheeling the crib into their bedroom, he’d insisted she put Lekzi down before gangrene set into her arms. He’d massaged her shoulders, and as she’d winced through his ministrations, he’d told her about Sergei and Reynard.

Now, she was sitting against the headboard, her knees up, her arms wrapped around them. He’d been waiting for long minutes to hear what she had to say about the murder he’d committed tonight.

“I am…”

She stopped again and he moved closer to slip his fingers around her slender ankle. Her voice was raspy, her eyes smudged with fatigue.

“I am glad he is dead,” she rushed out. “Very glad. I wish I could have hurt him personally before you dropped him.” She looked at the baby. “It is frightening that men like that exist.”

“I know.”

His phone going off startled them both. He snapped it off the nightstand and turned it over to see his uncle’s number. “Yeah.”

“Get dressed and downstairs. Now.”

Alarm nailed him square in the face at both Vasily’s tone and the order. He hung up and stood.

Sacha’s brows popped. “Where are you going?”

He took the time to lean over and kiss her, working her mouth until her lips softened against his. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling it needed to be voiced again. “This isn’t how our life is. You know that. This isn’t the norm.” What if she wanted to leave? What the fuck would he do without her? Without his daughter? He kissed her once more. “Vasily needs me downstairs. I’ll text you if I have to leave.” As quietly as he could, he dashed out the door.

He jogged down the corridor, nodded at Grigori who was in his cubby at the top of the stairs, and headed down. He nearly missed a step when he saw his uncle, Dmitri, and Anton standing by the door.

“What happened?” His apprehension grew at the grief he saw in Vasily’s eyes when he came over and pulled him into a tight embrace. He hugged him back. “What is it, Vasya?”

“It’s Markus,” his uncle said as he drew away.

That threw him, but it also brought a load of relief crashing over him. News about Markus wouldn’t be Tarasov related. It would be business. But that grief…

“What about Markus?” he asked slowly.

“He’s been shot.”

“What!”
His knees just about gave out. “When? Where? Who the fuck—? Where have they taken him?” he demanded as he jammed his feet into the shoes he’d left under the coat tree. Before he could grab his keys from the table, Vasily put a hand on his arm. He was shaking his head.