47
Alina
For the firsttime in weeks, the three of us are in a room together without handcuffs or prison bars.
We’re here together facing the same precarious situation, and we’re going to get out of it together too.
At least I hope we do.
Now more than ever, I know I won’t choose between Dominik and Gavriil.
I can’t.
I want them both, even if that makes me selfish or reckless or whatever else. I don’t care because what I feel for them is beyond anything I’ve ever felt before.
They’re both ingrained in my soul at this point, and the only thing that can rip us away from each other is death itself.
“The prison doors have been modified to automatically lock when closed,” Matvei tells Dominik as everyone in the bunker gathers around the war table, ready to formulate a plan that’ll turn the tide.
“We entered the bunker through the hatch in the prison,” Gavriil says. “None of the doors were shut, and I only saw two bodies. Not much combat happened down there.”
“Any other helpful details I should know about?” Dom asks as he stands at the head of the table with me on his left and Gavriil to his right.
“There are weapons planted throughout the house,” Eduard replies. “Under couches. Under tables. In cabinets and drawers. There are night vision goggles too, but they’re still in a crate in the meeting room.”
Dom nods as he soaks in every bit of information thrown at him. “We could have our men sneak from place to place to try and pick off men, but if they’re patrolling in groups, our numbers are so small that they’ll likely hit us from behind or report our location.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I listen, my eyes roaming over the group around the table. All of them are sporting some sort of injury, and the smell of blood is nauseating. There’s only Yelena down here treating people, and Gavriil has waved her off multiple times.
Even now, he’s being stubborn.
“We have to overwhelm them,” Matvei says. “We have to hit them so hard and fast that they don’t have time to realize what’s happening. If we can stun them, we have a chance, but we need to hurry.”
“Hurry with what numbers? We don’t have enough men for that kind of assault,” Dom replies as he shakes his head.
Matvei sighs in frustration, but he nods. He knows Dominik is right.
“If they’re all in or around the house, why don’t we just destroy it?” Valentin suggests. “It would kill most of them, and we can pick off the ones who survive.”
Gavriil glares at him. “I’d rather not blow my house into pieces, even if it were empty. We have too many dead men left behind, possibly some trapped alive if they made it to the roof. Are you willing to sacrifice them for a quick resolution?”
Valentin’s shoulders drop as he shakes his head.
Dom rubs his jaw, his eyes narrowing in thought. “We’re too limited because we don’t have enough men.”
“What about contacting the Bratva Council and asking for reinforcements?” Petrov suggests.
Both Dom and Gavriil immediately shake their heads.
“We don’t get along on the best of days with the Volkovs, and the other Bratva organizations are too far away. Besides, if we asked for help, they’d probably assign new leadership. That’s not an option,” Dom states.
They need reinforcements regardless. If they don’t have enough men to do anything, we’ll eventually be killed in this bunker.
They need men from somewhere. They needallies.
“What about the Italians?” I ask. My question is met with silence.
Maybe it was a dumb suggestion.
