Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)(130)

He met that navy stare across the demolished foyer. In Alek’s eyes, there was no better man. Back his focus went to Sergei. He cataloged the new position. Yana’s new position. The position of the men flanking them who Alek was pretty sure wouldn’t help Sergei now for any reason.

“Alek.”

He glanced to his uncle when he heard his name then came back to his task. The boys had to get Vasily out of there. They had to take him down to Yuri. Then he wanted his best fucking friends to take his wife and child out of there. It didn’t matter that he and Sacha had never exchanged vows, she belonged to him just as he belonged to her. Life partners. And his best fucking friends were right fucking idiots to have shown up here instead of staying with their women. Man, he loved them.

Honing his attention, he saw how much closer he was now that he’d stumbled forward during the shooting. He was less than ten feet away and could clearly see how tightly the grenade was taped to Yana’s face. And, halle-fucking-luiah, the spoon was pressed into her skin. That meant the pin could be pulled and who the fuck cared? If that spoon remained down, they could sit here all afternoon, and the thing wouldn’t blow. But if Sergei even plucked at the tape and released that spoon…

Alek got all of this in seconds. “So this is your end game, Sergei?” He let the blade he’d tucked up his sleeve slide down until it tickled his palm. “To stand around and gloat? To spew your shit and try to get a reaction out of us as you twist the knife?” He leaned forward so he was on the tip of his toes. “To string this out so you can feel important for a little longer?”

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare,” he heard Maks whisper behind him.

“Jesus H.,” Anton added under his breath.

“You’re in it to inflict as much pain as you can before this is over. Do I have that right, Sergei?” He let the contempt he was feeling drip from his words.

“Yes, I am. It feels good to know someone gets this.” His cousin sounded as if they were talking over a beer. “Sacha is in the house somewhere, is she not? She must be. Is she carrying another Tarasov yet? That stupid woman should have given me the opportunity to help her. And your beautiful little girl would have been better off succumbing to the effects of the poison Reynard supplied than to have the roof collapse on her as it is going to do in a matter of minutes.”

Alek sprung forward and was startled for only a moment by two bodies falling from the sky outside the opening. Micha and Jak took down the Baikovs with little effort while Alek smashed his fist into Sergei’s shocked face.

The motherfucker pulled the pin. And yanked on the tape, because Sergei knew that spoon needed to be released.

As fast as was humanly possible, Alek sliced through the tape and ripped the grenade off. “Duck!” He threw it past Micha and Jak with all his might then fell on Yana to do what he could to protect her.

The explosion was close enough to blow out every intact window in the vicinity, including the ones on the cars that were in the driveway. The almighty boom that came with it closed up Alek’s ears again, and this time, left a muffled flutter hammering through them. He then watched as if in slow motion Sergei sit halfway up with his gun pointed straight at Alek’s face. A shout came from the side and then a dark shape was flying through the air in front of him.

Sergei took the shot.

Vasily took the bullet.





THIRTY-ONE




Seeing his uncle land hard on what was once the front door, Alek thundered a denial. In the chest. Vasily had taken the bullet in the chest! With no Kevlar.

A red haze flipped over his vision, and Alek lost his mind.

He and Sergei scrambled to their feet at the same time, and they came together in a flurry of quick, coordinated movements. Knuckles connected, skin split, elbows and kicks were thrown, and through it all, the little hole in his uncle’s neatly pressed dress shirt that he was wearing in mourning for Markus remained front and center in Alek’s mind. He heard Quan’s calm voice in the back of his mind, the one the Asian used when they were sparing in the gym at home. Find a weakness, and go for it. Everyone has one. If it’s not physical, start talking. Bring them to their knees verbally. It can always be done.

After landing a particularly hard kick to Sergei’s ribs, Alek found his center. “Tell me how…” He ducked then danced away from a swinging left that would have had him seeing stars. “No, G!” he snapped at Gabriel when his friend appeared behind Sergei, gun in hand.

Alek focused again and connected a right just as Sergei’s lower leg slammed into his hip. He hissed through the pain. “How would you look your son…in the eye…if he was in front of you now?”