Page 33 of Scarlet Vows (Yegorov Bratva #3)

Chapter Twenty-Six

ILYA

Melor and I sit in the car outside of Simonov’s club, where the firearms deal’s going down in fifteen minutes. Everything is prepped and ready, and though Melor tried to talk me out of it, I’m going in too.

I’m nothing if I’m not a man of my word.

“You need to stay here,” Melor says. “We need leadership outside to make sure it all runs smoothly and?—”

“It’s not my first time running an op,” I mutter in Russian. “I’m new here, not new to this. I know what I’m doing. And the one thing I need to do is be there with the men. You stay and run it.”

“But—”

“I’m your pakhan. Do what I say.”

“Yes, Ilya.”

I grit my teeth, wanting to push it further as adrenaline surges through me. I want to grind him down into place, but I don’t. It’s the electricity in the air sparking the rise of testosterone.

And I don’t give in to such bullshit.

That bullshit gets people killed .

I don’t intend to lose any of my men or any of Santo’s, of which there are many in our ranks now.

This is a full-on partnership-style attack.

My phone’s on silent, but it lights up.

Santo

My men behaving?

Me:

Yes. Everything good on your end?

Santo

I’m fine. My men are with you. And my man’s inside. You’re the one leading, correct?

I bite back a sigh. He’s a cocky, arrogant bastard, and I don’t really know what I’ve got myself in for with him in the future, but this is unfolding according to plan.

“Barone?” Melor asks. “Does he want to send more men?”

“He just wants to make sure it’s all going well.”

Santo

Now’s the time to let me know if you need the special services from my girl.

His assassin. It’s fucking tempting, but…

Me

I’ll report from the other side.

Earlier, various cars pulled to the side of the road and let people out. Others arrived to pick them up. But now it’s after hours, and the traffic is on foot.

There’s one van, unmarked, and I watch it closely. If I were a betting man, I’d say it was important. The guns for the sale inside, perhaps.

It’s been dark for a number of hours and appears empty.

“Appears” is the operative word .

But other than that, since the gates went down, men have gone in and out of the building on foot. All of them oblivious to the hell that’s going to rain down on them.

I’m confident we’ll get the job done quickly and quietly. I’ve an army, one that Santo has boosted.

All I’m waiting for is the signal from Santo’s man on the inside. Now that’s a bastard who deserves a medal and a bottle of good vodka.

The back of the van suddenly rolls up. Someone jumps out in a suit and heads inside. The light in the back must have been turned off.

“I want that van.” Why would a suited man be in there? What else is inside? Yeah, I want it.

Melor grunts. “I’ll get someone on that.”

I put a hand on Melor’s arm and fit my earpiece so I can hear him and the men when I turn it on at the set time and they can hear us. “After.”

He nods.

A light flickers on in a room above the club.

On. Off. On. Off.

I nod at Melor and turn on my earpiece. Melor gives the order, getting out of the car with me. I give him a look. He motions ahead since he’ll wait outside in case we need extra backup.

I check my weapon and make sure my extra rounds are in reach.

“Ilya.”

I turn, Denis is there. After the meeting today he told me he would sit this out, and yet here he is. I put emotions on hold as best I can, fighting the fluttering elation at what looks like loyalty.

“Taking part?” I ask.

He nods. “Brought extra men. This feels too easy, like you mentioned to Melor after that meeting. I heard. ”

“And?”

“Let’s do this.”

I nod and come up to Denis. “We send two scouts in and then us.”

“Yes,” he says. “What I was thinking.”

Two waves, one right after the other. We’re the first wave.

We approach the side entrance of the club, which has been left unlocked. On a silent count of three, we storm inside.

The men are on fire, and they surge past, gunshots blasting apart the night.

As I’m about to round the corner into the club, Denis slams me against the wall.

I ready to fight him off when I hear it.

Too much gunfire. Too fast.

Fuck.

We’re the ones being ambushed.

“Pull back, pull back!” I shout.

But it’s too late. We’re caught, and the only way out is through.

I blast a path and watch in horror as a bigger army than ours surges. Thank fuck the corridor is narrow.

A man in front of me is shot in the chest. I grab him and drag him out with me as cover, shooting until my gun’s empty. I grab another from a dead man, a semi-automatic, and shoot as many of the fucks as I can. We back up and out.

Denis turns back with a roar, reaching into his coat and pulling something out.

A fucking grenade.

He hurls it inside. We dive down as it explodes, shaking the building’s foundation. He then tosses me one, and we rush back in, over the dead and dying and into the main room .

We throw in more of the grenades and pull the door shut. But someone rushes from another room, gun drawn.

Shit, they’re everywhere.

Denis shoves me out of the way, getting shot in the process.

I kill the fuck who shot him and then grab him, right as the grenades explode within the room.

Everything shakes and we call. I don’t know what the fuck was in that room, but whatever it was, it added to the explosions.

I stagger up, we’ve slowed them but not stopped. There are definitely way more than we thought. And I know we need to get out of there.

I shoot another and another as they stagger out of another door.

Shit, my gun’s empty. And Denis falls again, unable to stand.

I drag him into a corner in the rubble and reload. “You okay?”

“Give me a motherfucking gun. I’ll hold them off.”

I grab a weapon from the ground, and hand it to him then run out.

It’s carnage. The dead and dying are everywhere. For a second, it looks like we won this battle, but it’s not true. I can hear cars approaching. Whoever was inside, we got them, but now…

Shouts in Russian, many demanding my blood, rise into the night.

I don’t see Melor. I hope to god he’s not dead.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I shout. “We can’t win this. Get back to the compound. Take those of you who can walk.”

I don’t wait. I load my gun and return inside the remnants of the club. I figure we have maybe five minutes before backup arrives .

I open the door to the club. Bodies litter the ground. I shoot one man who’s still alive, and I grab another, shaking him awake, not caring that his leg is only half attached.

“Where is Simonov?”

“You Belov filth. You think he’d come to this?” the Simonov man spits. “You’re meant to be dead.”

I shoot him and drop the corpse, not even caring that I’m fucking killing the injured.

He’s right. Simonov and his senior men aren’t here.

Someone set us up. Set me up.

I help Denis up. He got shot in the leg and arm, but he can hobble.

“Not a word, okay?” I don’t wait for Denis’s answer.

I start checking the men and collect weapons as I go.

Denis does the same, and we both drag out those who are injured and dying. Our injured and dying, including Santo’s men, though they’re few and far between. The van’s still there.

I make a call to Pavel. “I need medical care for a bunch of injured men and maybe backup. A way out. There’s van outside?—”

“I’m betting it’s a trap,” Pavel says. “I’ll have a man look when we arrive in a minute?—”

“Leave it. I’ve got a van a block away?—”

“I’m on it.” He hangs up.

Denis and I work quickly. The van pulls up, my van and one of Demyan’s men gets out.

“They’re coming,” the man says, “we need to go.”

I start to load the dead and injured into the back of the van. The enemy’s cars approaching are getting louder.

“Ilya, he’s right. We have to go.” Denis grabs my arm with his good hand as a car speeds up from a side street, the other cars almost on us .

“I can’t leave them.” I take another man. And someone helps me get him in the back.

Those who can, help, but there are more.

Pavel gets out of his car, takes one look around him. “They’ll all be dead if you wait. This isn’t an armored vehicle. Follow me.”

He’s fucking right and I’ve no option but to do as he suggests. We close the back of the van, and I turn the key in the ignition.

Denis collapses into the seat next to me, gun at the ready, and I drive off as slow as I dare, lights off, following Pavel.

The van’s going to get attention from the enemy and?—

“Holy shit,” Denis says and starts swearing in Russian.

Two streets down, there’s a bank of SUVs and Yegorov men with weapons pointed past us.

While the men with weapons set up a wider perimeter, we work to unload the injured men and reload them into the SUVs. Some are badly shot, and I know some are dying and won’t make it.

When we finish, I get in one SUV with Pavel, and Denis insists on coming too.

“The hospital is ready for us. You want to explain?” Pavel asks.

I give him a rundown, leaving Santo’s name out of it.

“So someone set you up?”

“Yes,” I say.

“No, Ilya sold us out,” Denis growls, but there’s a lack of real conviction. The words still bite.

Pavel laughs. “I’ll fucking finish the job if I believed you meant that. Ilya’s loyal. He wouldn’t do that.”

“No I fucking wouldn’t.” I grit my teeth.

“Well,” he says with a grunt of pain. “Someone did.”

“Someone did, and I’d like to know who,” I say, though I suspect I know. I keep a tight hold on the hot fury burning like acid in my veins.

Pavel runs a hand over his face. “We’ll find out.”

“I owe you for this,” I mutter. Fuck, I’m gonna owe Demyan.

“It’s fine.” Pavel shrugs.

But it isn’t. I failed. I trusted the wrong person.

I glance back at Denis, who’s pale and starting to sweat. “How in the hell did you get everyone there so fast?”

“Like I said. I thought about what you said at the meeting to Melor. Too fucking easy. I have interests in this bratva. We were on our way before you gave the signal. Also, I saved your ass.”

I look at him. “I’m lucky the Simonov backup were cautious.”