Vince studied my face, looking for deception and finding none. His internal struggle played across his features—the desire to personally rescue his sister warring with the strategic logic of my argument.
“Fine,” he finally agreed, stepping aside. “But believe me—if anything happens to her, there’s nowhere on Earth you can hide from me.”
“If anything happens to her, I won’t be alive for you to find,” I responded with cold certainty.
Cristo cut in: “I’m coming with you. Cara’s my responsibility.”
I nodded once, already calculating how to best utilize his skills. Cristo might present himself as a charming playboy, but I’d seen the calculation behind his eyes. He was more than he appeared.
We strode toward the exit, every second precious. I could hear the muted arguments behind us—Anton holding back Vince, Roman organizing the remaining security, Director Kozlova barking orders to her team.
We were halfway across the room when Director Kozlova’s voice cut through the noise behind us.
“Zotov! You walk out that door, you’re finished.”
Fifteen years of my life. The only purpose, the only home I’d ever known. The organization I’d given everything to. The clean exit I had planned was not to make powerful enemies for my family.
All of this against Shorty.
No contest.
I didn’t even break stride as I called back, “Then consider this my resignation.”
An unexpected lightness flooded me as I spoke the words as though shedding a burden I didn’t know I carried.Anton fell into step beside me, his silent presence a statement of loyalty. I didn’t have to look at my brother to know he had my back.
“You sure about this?” he asked quietly, voice barely audible over the chatter and storm.
I met his eyes. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”
He nodded once and handed me a weapon, an extra mag, and a small in-ear monitor. “Then let’s go get your woman.”
We crossed the doorstep, and the full force of the storm hit us. Rain lashed at my face, the wind threatening to knock me sideways. Navigating a helicopter in these conditions would suck big time. Through the deluge, I could make out the silhouettes of the fleet of helicopters, waiting for us.
Cristo and Matt stood by the nearest one, running pre-flight checks despite the punishing conditions.
As we reached them, my mind was crystal clear with purpose for the first time in days. “Anton, you’re with Cristo and Matt. We’ll take two helicopters and approach from different vectors. We need to split their attention.”
“What about landing?” Cristo asked, eyeing the churning sea.
I followed his gaze, then shrugged. “Landing might not be an option,” I replied.
“So we drop?” Anton answered.
Cristo’s eyebrows rose. Matt grinned and nodded. “Nice.”
I sighed. Matt had been shot and lost a spleen only a couple of months ago, so even though he seemed okay,dropping from a helicopter was absolutely not something he should even think of doing. But at least we had enthusiasm on our side.
“Matt?” I said. And he raised his hands. “I’m the pilot,” he shouted, before he boarded the bird.
Weren’t we all fucking lunatics?
I boarded the second helicopter and came to a stop. I’d somehow expected Roman in the pilot seat, not Hawk, and next to him was Birdie.
Birdie handed me a headset. “Why do you Mafia guys all think you’re some kind of superheroes?” she said in place of a coms check.
“Indoctrination,” I replied and took the harness she handed me.
Hawk got the rotors spun up to full speed, then gave me a sidelong glance. “How exactly did you manage to wreck everything so thoroughly in just a few days?”
