Page 36

36

CIEL

L eona had left to help Wynn and Obi make dinner. I kept working, but my head snapped up when the alert flashed over my screen.

Recognition found.

My heart pounded as I pushed from my desk and rushed to the kitchen. Wynn had his arms around her while they cooked. Cas sat at the island stools. Obi typed on his phone with a cutting board full of vegetables in front of him.

She looked up the moment I walked in.

“Ciel?” she asked, as if she could sense my agitation. “What’s wrong?”

“I foun—” I started, but the sound died in my throat. I gritted my teeth. “I found them. I’m locked on them. They’re headed to the Russian territory right now.”

They had come into the city with the cruise terminal traffic, exactly like Leona thought. Once I got facial recognition, I started following them through the city. He was here . Rafael Arboleda. Closer than he’d ever been before.

In less than two seconds, all four of them sprang into action. We had to alert Makarov, go after them, and finish this.

Ryu chose that moment to stroll into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” he asked. My eyes went wide as I took him in. Shit.

We didn’t have time for this.

“I have a lock on the Alacrán Cartel heading into Russian territory,” I said. Obi pushed past me, alongside Cas. Ryu sank into his training, face going serious, and body going tight, like all of us were used to doing. We knew how to move quickly and efficiently, gathering our guns and weapons from the closet.

“What the fuck is wrong with your face?” Leona gasped as she stomped over to reach up to his swollen jaw. He looked like he ran face-first into a pole.

He jerked back from her touch. “Just got a little overexcited in the gym, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I don’t believe that for a second,” Leona snapped at Ryuji before glancing at Caspian and the way he limped down the hallway. Her mouth set into a hard line.

Those idiots. It didn’t take a goddamn genius to see they’d gotten into some sort of fight.

“We don’t have time for this,” I hissed as I yanked a bag from the closet shelf and started filling it with handguns and knives. Wynn did the same, with Obi handing us extra ammo.

“Ciel’s right,” Leona said. She pulled on the two thigh holsters she’d claimed. “We don’t have time to discuss it right now, so I’m going to let it go. But we will be revisiting this.”

“Fantastic,” Ryu quipped, already armed to the teeth as he pushed past me. He put his phone to his ear. “Kostya, heads-up. The Alacrán are headed your way.” He looked at me, and I repeated the trajectory I plotted based on their movements. I had the data on my phone, but I needed to log into my computers in my van to keep with real-time updates. Ryu passed along the info to Makarov, and then paused, listening as he spoke on the other side. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What?” I asked. Wynn punched in the elevator’s security code while we all piled inside.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He ended the call before zipping the phone into a pocket of his pants. “The only thing Kostya has in that area is his sister’s apartment.”

“Zoya Makarova,” Leona breathed. “They’re going after her?”

He nodded curtly. “Seems that way.”

Leona’s entire body went taut with tension. “How would they even know she lived there?”

When they first started attacking the Russians, I thought they were looking for something.

“It’s not uncommon to search out a target’s weak spots,” Obi said, voice heavy. We did that kind of shit all the time. I did. Putting pressure on your enemy’s weaknesses made it easier to eliminate them. Volpe, his hacker, and the Alacrán had to be doing the same.

Obi’s words seemed to trigger something within Leona. Her brow furrowed and her cheeks tinted red.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” I murmured as my hand brushed against hers. She took it, squeezed it once, then let it go.

“I’m just so fucking tired of women being treated as collateral damage,” she hissed. “Zoya, Chiara, me. We’re real human beings with lives and hopes and dreams, not fucking pressure points.”

How many times had I given Obi or Ryu a roster on a target’s greatest pressure points? Too many.

I made a decision in that moment. We were done operating like that.

“We’ll intercept them,” Obi assured, squeezing her arm. His hand lingered on her for a few moments before he cleared his throat and pulled it back.

The elevator dinged open, and we piled into my van. Obi drove while I got situated on my computers and pulled up the feeds again.

Six Alacrán members, Arboleda included, headed straight for the address Makarov texted us in two black, stolen nondescript trucks.

At least Makarov could warn her. Maybe she could get out of the apartment before the Alacrán got there. If they did, they’d kill her. Or worse, take her hostage.

Obi maneuvered through the evening traffic and never-ending stream of pedestrians, and I pulled up the closest cameras to Zoya Makarova’s apartment, hoping we’d catch images of her finding some kind of safety.

“There,” Leona pointed, leaning over my shoulder. A woman with long blonde hair exited the apartment building’s door, glancing in each direction before she hurried to the south.

“That’s her,” Ryu said. “Zoya.”

Even with the grainy camera, she looked like Makarov. Blonde hair the same shade. Round cheeks. She hunched her shoulders and tightened her jacket across her body. One hand jammed in the pocket of her coat, clearly gripping a gun hidden inside. On my screens, we watched her run down the street and then disappear just as the Alacrán pulled around the corner.

“We’re ten minutes away,” I said. The cartel poured out of the vehicles and beelined for the entrance. They were going to rush the apartment. Could I try to cut the power? Would that slow them down?

“Kostya will get there first,” Ryu said, making sure his guns were loaded.

We watched on the camera feeds as the Alacrán entered the building, weapons out. Only moments later, Makarov and his crew pulled up.

“When we get there, I’ll find Zoya,” Leona said, hand on the back of my chair. “I can bring her back to the van.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Cas added. Leona nodded, glancing at his leg with a frown. He would be almost useless with that limp, and we all knew it. Cas glared at Ryuji but said nothing.

“I’m going inside,” I announced. Ryu and Wynn both turned to look at me.

“You’re not staying here?” Wynn asked, looking to where the feeds showed Makarov and his men surrounding the apartment building.

I pushed back from my desk and made sure my own gun was loaded and ready. I’d wrapped my garrote around my hand.

“No.”

I had to do this. I had to go inside and see for myself. I had to hear that voice to know it was him. And then I had to kill him myself. It was the only way my parents could rest in peace.

Leona just nodded and leaned forward to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Be safe, Ciel.”

I brushed a thumb across her cheek, throat bobbing. She understood. She saw me, and she knew how important this was to me. “I will.”

I looked to Obi for his permission, and he nodded in the rearview.

Wynn’s hand brushed against my back, but when I turned to him, he looked away.

“Fine,” Ryu said as we pulled around the corner to the Zoya Makarova’s street. “We’re flying a little more blind than usual, I guess.”

“Don’t make stupid choices,” I told him.

He snorted, his swollen cheek pulling up into a smile. “Stupid choices are my MO.”

Leona rolled her eyes while Wynn pulled open the backdoor and we all jumped out. Along with Cas, she followed the direction where Zoya headed. Obi, Ryuji, Wynn, and I made our way toward the apartment.

It was bizarre, not waiting in the van with all my tech at my disposal. But I was no stranger to in-person operations. I had told Leona once that I had a higher body count than Wynn, and that was the truth.

I knew what I was doing.

“Ryu!” Konstantin Makarov shouted just as a gunshot rang out, shattering the front door of the apartment building.

We momentarily ducked, but continued to creep closer.

“Status?” Ryu replied to Makarov. Obi and Wynn signaled they would circle the building and look for an escape out the back while Ryu, Makarov, and I proceeded through the front.

“We’ve got them barricaded inside, and we’re trying to keep the rest of the residents inside their apartments,” Makarov said. “Zoya got out. Kolya is looking for her.”

Nikolai Makarov—Kolya, for short—was his younger brother, the middle child of the Makarov family. I had plenty of footage of him being drunk and terrorizing Ryu’s clubs.

“Leona is getting her. She’ll be safe in a second,” Ryu replied. “Send Kolya to the west.”

Makarov nodded, shouting orders in Russian. “My guys have the building surrounded. Thanks for the heads-up. We would have had no idea they were coming.”

I nodded, hand tightening around my weapon. “This ends here.”

“Agreed.” The blond Russian grinned and reloaded his gun. “What about the cops?”

“I already intercepted some outgoing 911 calls and blocked them,” I said. “You have your own people on the force, right?”

He nodded. “I’ll make some calls and get my cleanup crew ready. We’re not leaving here until we’ve crushed them.”

Covering this up in broad daylight was going to be a huge mess, and Makarov would have to pay out the ass in hush money, but once we finished this, I would clean up the camera footage. Makarov’s team could clean up the apartment.

If there was no evidence, there was no crime.

“The leader is mine,” I claimed. My voice reverberated. My hand brushed against the rough metal of my garotte. It had been a while since I’d used it.

“Personal vendetta?” Makarov scoffed, shaking his head. “Get in line.”

“No.” My voice was hard, cutting. Even Ryu did a double-take. “He’s mine.”

Ryu whistled.

Makarov lifted his chin slightly, searching for something on my face.

“Fine,” Makarov finally replied. “If we catch him alive, he’s yours. No promises.”

It was the best I could ask for under the conditions of a firefight in a New York City apartment. We pushed our way inside the building to find a long hallway with stairs at the end of it.

“What floor does she live on?” I asked.

“Fourth,” Makarov responded. Working together as a team, we cleared each space before making our way up the stairs. It was eerily quiet, but thankfully, we didn’t run into any other civilians. Guess they were all smart enough to stay inside.

“Why does Zoya live in this shithole, anyway?” Ryu grunted.

“Fuck me, I don’t want to talk about it,” Konstantin responded. “That girl is too damn headstrong.”

“Reminds me of someone,” Ryu snickered.

I held back my smile, but yeah. Leona and Zoya seemed like they’d get along.

We went floor by floor. On the second floor, a man leapt at us from a hidden alcove in the stairwell, knife in hand, and screaming in Spanish. In a blur, I wrapped my garrote around his neck, twisting it while he kicked against my body. Strangled sounds fell from his lips, but all else was silent. The metal bit into the skin of his neck, slicing through it until he went limp. I dropped his bloodied corpse to the ground.

“Damn,” Ryu said, rubbing his neck. “That thing scares me.”

I rolled my eyes, wiping my garrote down to wrap it around my hand again. “Don’t cross me then.”

He chuckled while we continued our way up the stairs until we finally made it to the fourth floor. Makarov’s head poked over the top of the stairs. A gunshot sliced through the air. I yanked Makarov back in time for the bullet to slam into the wall behind us.

“Surrender right fucking now!” Makarov shouted. “Get the fuck out of my city!”

No response.

“Flashbang?” I asked. “Then we charge.”

The longer we drew this shit out, the more collateral damage we’d run into—and the more likely we’d have a mess with law enforcement on our hands.

Ryu pulled the small concussive grenade from the pocket of his pants.

“Zoya’s apartment is the third on the right,” Makarov whispered.

We all nodded that we were ready before Ryu tossed the flashbang.

I ducked, eyes closed, as it detonated. My ears rang, but I surged up the rest of the stairs first, with Ryu right at my heels.

I lined up two shots and the two cartel members waiting outside her door dropped to the ground. Neither of their faces matched the pictures I had of Arboleda.

The remaining members must be inside the apartment. If they tried to run, Obi and Wynn, plus Makarov’s men, would be ready to intercept.

“Drop your weapons ,” someone shouted in Spanish from inside Zoya’s apartment. “ We’ll kill you!”

I froze outside the door. My heartbeat roared in my ears, so loud I thought it might drown out the very proof in front of me.

It was him. I knew it.

All the memories of that night rushed back.

It was the same fucking voice. That voice had screamed at them to surrender, to get on their knees, and to face the wall. That voice had chuckled after their bodies collapsed to the ground and their blood leaked through the floorboards to drip on my pajamas. The voice that laughed and joked about their deaths for over an hour while I cowered and bit my hand to keep from sobbing.

I had to kill him. For my parents. For me.

“I vote we storm the apartment,” Ryu offered, shoulder to the wall.

We could storm it, but there were four guys in there, just waiting for someone to come through that door. They might not kill us, but someone was bound to get shot. “I don’t?—”

“Obi, Wynn.” Ryu tapped his earpiece. “We’re doing Lagos on my count!”

My head snapped toward him. “ Lagos? ”

“Copy,” Obi said through the comms.

“Been awhile,” Wynn added.

“You have a better idea?” Ryu asked me. His foot braced against the door. “Five! Four!”

“Well, no?—”

“What am I missing?” Makarov asked, eyes wide as he watched both Ryu and I rushed to reload our weapons.

“Fuck,” I said through gritted teeth. “Lagos. Let’s do it.”

“What the hell?” Makarov scrambled beside me. “What’s Lagos?”

“Three!” Ryu said, smiling like the devil he was.

“Stay here, Makarov.”

“Two! One!”

Ryu kicked open the door, ducking, and rolling inside. At the same time, I followed right behind him. We fanned out beside one another, falling into the patterns we’d trained for years. As soon as we got to the main room, bullets were flying. Wynn and Obi burst through the window behind us. Blood splattered. Chaos broke loose.

My eyes locked on the body sprinting across the room and shutting itself inside one of the rooms.

“Three o’clock!” I shouted.

The four of us settled into a well-oiled machine. We’d done this exact same thing in the hideout of a local ganglord in Lagos two years ago. He’d been holed up with his men and the only way to get inside was a surprise attack.

But we knew once we got inside, we’d have to scan and eliminate targets who were likely hiding. We followed the same pattern, two of us rotating clockwise while the other pair rotated counterclockwise, all descending on the same singular point.

The other Alacrán members didn’t stand a chance. Within eight seconds, the apartment was clear except for the man barricading himself in what looked like the bedroom.

Makarov stepped into the apartment behind us. “So this is assassin shit.”

Ryu gave him a fist-bump.

“ You alive in there, you piece of shit? ” I called in Spanish. None of the men we’d killed were Arboleda. He must be the one holed up.

A bullet cracked through the door and flew right past my head.

“Who is it, Ciel?” Obi asked, leaning against the wall beside me.

“The man who killed my parents,” I responded in English.

My brothers paused, looking at the door like they, too, were ready to burn it down.

“Well, let’s fucking go then,” Ryu said, eyes wild. He gestured to the door. “Get in there.”

“Ever since the day I found you, you have been waiting for this,” Obi said, unconcerned by how another bullet whizzed past us. He didn’t even flinch.

I nodded.

“You will get vengeance for them,” Obi said, eyes locked on mine. “We will do all we can to help you. This kill is yours.”

I exhaled, tightening my grip. “Thanks, Obi.”

Obi had lost his parents, too. When he found me dying in a ditch after my cartel had finally been wiped out by the Alacrán, the gunshot on my thigh bleeding out, he had promised me then that he’d help me.

He had. And here I was today. Finally facing the cartel that’d blown my life to pieces in more ways than one.

“ Do you know who I am? ” I shouted in Spanish. “ Answer me! ”

“Makarov, are there any windows in that room?” Obi asked.

Konstantin nodded. “Just one. My men are on the other side waiting.”

Glass shattered.

I didn’t wait any longer. Heart pounding, I kicked open the door.

“Arboleda!” I shouted, just as he tried to climb through the broken window.

I shot the back of his thigh, and he collapsed onto the jagged glass, stabbing through his other leg. Blood gushed down the wall as he painstakingly fell back inside. He whipped a hand out, firing his gun at us. The bullet narrowly avoided past my cheek before thudding into the wall behind us.

He didn’t have time to aim again before I kicked the gun from his grip. It slid across the room.

“Arboleda,” I hissed. He groaned as he tried to staunch the blood flowing from of his leg. The glass must have nicked an artery.

If I wasn’t already sure, I’d be certain it was him from his voice as he shouted curses in Spanish.

The sound echoed inside my head like a metal ball in a pinball machine.

“All yours, Ciel,” Ryu said from behind me, but his words barely registered.

I couldn’t help but stare at the blood pouring from his body.

I had been lucky that my foster father had taken me in. But how many children had died alone, without anyone to care for them, because of him?

I knew I wasn’t a good person. I never tried to be, not like Wynn. But the man bleeding out in front of me was despicable.

“ Why did you agree to work with the Italians?” I asked in Spanish. The man’s eyes were wild, and his face was ghostly pale. He blinked up at me, as if trying to place how he knew me or why I was asking. “Answer me!”

“We’ve always worked with the Italians,” he hissed, his teeth stained red.

Luciano had been paying them for years. We’d confirmed that in the account numbers. But I still felt like we were missing something.

“Volpe was going to give you the Eastern Seaboard?”

Arboleda’s head rolled back, and I kicked his leg. He groaned. “Not Volpe. La Camorra .”

I frowned. The Camorra?

“End it, Ciel,” Obi said. “He doesn’t have long.”

Blood gurgled from his mouth. I needed this. Vengeance for the little boy who sat in his parents’ blood for hours until daylight broke. I kneeled over Arboleda, digging my knee into his neck. I pulled a knife from the sheath on my thigh.

“Para mis padres .” I dragged my blade across his jugular. He jerked and struggled against my weight, but the life drained from his eyes as his blood gushed over my pant leg and dripped to the ground.

It was finally over.

A weight seemed to dissolve from my shoulders as I stared down at his body. Years of work finally completed.

I won. I did it.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring at his corpse. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. If the sirens in the distance were any indication, it was only moments.

“Ciel,” a soft voice said before gentle hands cupped my cheeks and pulled me away.

I blinked. Red hair and sparkling brown eyes filled my vision. “Leona?”

“You did it,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips. “But we have to go, babe.”

The world came hurtling back. Cas stared down at the two of us. Ryu, Wynn, Obi, and Makarov were missing.

“Where are the guys?” I asked, letting her pull me to my feet. Blood drenched my clothes.

“Obi and Ryu are downstairs with Makarov, talking to some detectives who got here early,” she replied, folding her hand into mine. She was warm. She was grounding.

“We need to leave,” Cas said, picking up my knife and gun from the floor and tucking them into his pockets.

I blinked away the haze from my vision. We had to get out of here before this place was crawling with cops. I had to wipe footage.

“Let’s go,” Leona encouraged, tugging my hand. I squeezed back, walking side by side out of the apartment, not even bothering to cast a final glance at the dead man’s body.

I’d killed him.

Arboleda was dead.

But all I felt was numb.

Obi and Ryu met us at the bottom of the stairs and ushered us out the back entrance, saying something about me being drenched in blood and how that wouldn’t sit right with the cops out front, even if they were dirty.

“Where’s Zoya?” Ryu asked.

“In the van with Wynn,” Leona responded.

“Makarov is still with the detectives,” Obi said as we made it back to the van. Zoya waited in the back, seemingly unharmed, but her eyes widened as they took in my bloodstained clothes. “He said to meet him at his house to regroup.”

I wiped my hands on my shirt, sat at the computer desk, and immediately began typing commands.

The evidence of everything that happened in that apartment was gone by the time we pulled into Makarov’s estate.