Page 79 of The Mafia's Septuplets

26

Iskander

The compound’s main gate stands open like a mouth waiting to swallow me whole. My armored sedan idles at the entrance while I study the tactical nightmare Mikhail has constructed. It’s a fortress designed to strip away every advantage I’ve spent years cultivating.

Three guards emerge from a checkpoint booth with weapons drawn but not aimed, their posture suggesting they’re expecting my arrival. The illusion of non-aggression masks the reality that I’m driving into a orchestrated trap where Mikhail controls every variable.

I step out of the vehicle with hands visible, allowing them to see I’m apparently following his instructions about coming alone. The transponder in my vest will guide Timur and our team to this location in exactly four minutes, but for now, I must play the role of desperate lover making foolish choices.

“Mr. Taranov.” The lead guard speaks with professional courtesy that doesn’t reach his cold eyes. “Mr. Balakin is waiting for you.We’ll need to secure your weapons before escort.” He waves a wand over me, and it beeps to reveal every weapon I carry, save one. I left a lot of my weapons in the car, but I had to carry enough to seem plausible.

I remove my sidearms with deliberate slowness, knowing they’ve already detected the additional arsenal concealed throughout my clothing and gear. This pantomime of disarmament serves Mikhail’s psychological warfare while buying time for my backup to reach assault positions.

Next, they pat me down, removing knives, grenades, and anything else that could serve as weapons in close quarters. The search reveals most of my hidden armament but misses the ceramic blade secured in a thin pocket in my vest’s lining because it didn’t ping their wand. The knife isn’t much but it’s better than going in completely empty-handed.

“This way.” The guard gestures toward the main building. “Mr. Balakin appreciates punctuality.”

I walk between armed escorts across a courtyard designed to provide overlapping fields of fire from defensive positions. Every step takes me deeper into Mikhail’s killing ground while simultaneously drawing his attention away from the approaching assault team.

The building’s interior reflects battlefield preparation more than residential comfort. It has reinforced walls, narrow corridors, and strategic chokepoints that will turn the coming firefight into brutal close-quarters combat. Mikhail has transformed this place into a fortress worthy of the final confrontation he’s been planning.

We descend wooden stairs toward a basement that smells of damp concrete and must. Each step brings me closer to Willa while stripping away my tactical options until I’m forced to act on instinct and desperation by his design.

The basement opens into a maze of support pillars and storage areas lit by harsh overhead bulbs. My escorts guide me through this maze toward whatever stage Mikhail has prepared for our reunion.

“Iskander.” Mikhail Balakin’s voice carries across the space with satisfaction that makes my skin crawl. “Right on schedule, as always.”

As I get closer, I see him partially behind a concrete pillar with Willa positioned in front of him as a human shield, sitting bound to a folding chair, with a pistol pressed against her stomach with casual menace. She looks pale and strained from hours of captivity, but when our gazes meet, there’s determination in her eyes that makes my chest constrict with relief and rage.

The guards position themselves behind me with weapons trained on my back, completing the tactical trap Mikhail has spent months preparing. I’m surrounded, outgunned, and watching the woman I love being used as leverage against every protective instinct I possess. “Let her go.” I keep my voice steady despite the fury building in my chest. “Your fight is with me.”

“My fight is with everything you value.” He adjusts his grip on both Willa and the weapon. “Starting with the woman carrying your children, then moving to that loyal dog Timur, who follows you everywhere. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother, so I’ll kill him in front of you.”

The mention of Timur reveals the scope of Mikhail’s revenge fantasies. He wants to destroy my entire world systematically, starting with Willa and ending with me after I’ve watched everyone I care about die. “You wanted me here. I’m here.” I spread my hands to show compliance. “What happens next?”

“Next, you watch your woman and children die.” His expression carries years of accumulated pain transformed into murderous obsession. “Then your second-in-command joins them when my men capture him during his predictable rescue attempt. Then you experience the same grief that’s consumed my life since you killed my brother while I torture you to death.”

I try to keep my expression impassive in the face of his insane plans. “Alexei chose to attack me with four armed men. I defended myself.”

“He was twenty-two years old and following orders I gave him.” Mikhail’s voice breaks slightly. “You could have shown mercy to someone so young and reckless instead of putting five bullets in him.”

“Mercy wasn’t an option when they started shooting first.” The memory surfaces with perfect clarity of the desperate combat, where hesitation meant death for everyone I was trying to protect.

“So, you understand why mercy isn’t an option now.” He presses the pistol harder against Willa’s stomach. “Your brother-in-arms will arrive soon with his tactical team, thinking he’s mounting a rescue. Instead, he’ll walk into a killing field designed specifically for his operational methods.”

The sound of distant gunfire suddenly echoes through the building above us as automatic weapons chatter in coordinatedpatterns that signal Timur’s assault has begun. Mikhail’s expression shifts from satisfaction to anticipation as his trap springs around my approaching team.

“Your backup arrives precisely on schedule.” He maintains his grip on Willa while listening to the combat overhead. “I’ve studied Timur’s tactical preferences for months. Every entrance to this building is covered by overlapping fields of fire.”

More gunfire erupts above us, coming closer and now accompanied by the distinctive crack of flash-bang grenades and the heavier thump of shaped charges breaching reinforced doors. My team is fighting through defensive positions that Mikhail has specifically designed to neutralize their advantages. I have to admire the elegance of his plan even though I’m going to thwart him.

“They’ll never reach this basement.” His voice carries confidence backed by careful planning. “Even if they do, any aggressive action results in your woman’s immediate death.”

“You could still walk away from this.” I take a small step forward, testing the guards’ reactions. “Killing us won’t bring Alexei back.”

“No, but it will balance the scales of justice in my favor.” The gunfire above grows more intense as tactical combat reaches the building’s main floors. “Your death pays the debt you’ve owed since that night you murdered my brother.”

I hear boots thundering down the wooden stairs as someone fights through Mikhail’s defenses toward the basement. The sound could be Timur leading a successful breach, or it could be Mikhail’s men herding my team into the final killing ground of this elaborate trap. Betting on Timur and the others, I say,“This is your last chance to surrender and make this easier on everyone.” I keep my voice calm despite the desperation clawing at my chest. “My men won’t show restraint if you hurt her.”