Revenge Ablaze

Same characters in "Justice For the 16 Year Old".

“They have him,” Ellis finally said. 

The world started spinning. I felt my knees give out. Sebastian held on to me until I felt myself into a sitting position. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Anatoly was going to be in Russia for a simple mission. It wasn't going to take too long. He was going to come back home tomorrow. 

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Sebastian held my face with his hands and met my eyes. He was mouthing something to me, something that I couldn’t quite make out. I tried to focus all of my senses to be able to hear him.

“It’s okay,” he repeated.

Ellis handed me a glass of water. I was unraveling. My hands were shaking. 

I took a deep breath and brought the glass to my lips. 

“How?” I asked after a breath. 

“They knew Ana’s brother was going to be in Russia.” A local gang that had captured Anastasia, Anatoly's sister, some years ago now had him as leverage for Ana. One of the main mobsters, Valerik, had taken a liking for her. I had led the rescue mission to save her. 

I closed my eyes. “I should have killed all of them when I had the chance.” 

I needed to get to him. I looked at Ellis. "Get me to Russia then."

He shook his head. "You're too close to this."

"I'm going." I stood back up. 

Sebastian looked at me. "Would that be the best choice?"

"Give me all the information you have. I'm going. With or without your approval." 

#

The flight was nerve wracking. I was given the information of where he was, who had him, and camera recordings of him before, during, and after he was taken. I reviewed it, seeing some of Valerik's henchmen and bodyguards shove Anatoly into a black van.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. 

"It's gonna be okay, Penelope," Seb said. 

"I know," I replied to him. "I'm gonna save him and burn the entire place to the ground."

His eyes widened slightly. He knew I was serious and that there was nothing he could do to make me change my mind. 

"So what's the plan?" he asked. 

I looked at Kazuo, the Japanese and islandic Asian country representative. He graciously agreed to come on this mission with me. He was a silent man, often more in thought than speaking, and was incredibly skilled at devising plans. I've worked with him before and he's made magic out of impossible things. 

He was a bit older than the rest of us, closer to thirty and married. We'd only met his wife once, but they were a lovely couple. In their presence, you knew you were in the presence of love. It made me not want to involve him in many missions for more than planning. He could totally handle himself and was lethal in a fight. I respected his skill, but I always remembered his wife. I never wanted her to be a widow. 

This time, I didn't have much of a choice. He simply smiled at me, eyes kind, and agreed to come with me. 

He stretched the map out on the table. It was a layout of where Anatoly was being kept. He pointed at several parts of the building. "He is being kept at a dacha. Probably in a cellar, dachas tend to have them. Sebastian and Charlotte will go in through the back door. Julinha, Claude, and I will go in through the front door. There is a small passageway between that dacha cellar and an exterior drop site. It's very small but I think you're the only one small enough to fit." 

I nodded. "I can handle it."

"You'll be crawling for about one to two kilometers."

I nodded again. Distance couldn't be an issue. I just needed to get him out. 

"When you are ready to go into the basement, we will distract them to come to us. You may need to fight anyone left, but you'll be able to get him out through the top." 

"How are we getting there? Like to the exits of the dacha?" Sebastian asked. 

"On the ground. We will be walking through greenery and then fight through." 

We all looked at each other and nodded. 

"That's the plan. There is no way to go completely undetected but we have good odds."

I looked at each of them. "Thank you," I whispered. 

"He's one of us too," Claude said, a Martinique floater. He worked mainly on the islands but would often help me or some of the Central American representatives. We were all in the process of expanding our representatives  with floaters so that the resources and attention were not spread so thin. Claude was particularly great at multitasking, so he volunteered for this mission in between projects. 

I nodded once before getting up and going to the restroom to splash water on my face. 

#

"Ready?" Kazuo asked. 

I nodded before looking at the flat cart with what seemed like a baking sheet at the entrance of the hidden tunnel.

I pulled the cart out and crawled in, head first. I turned on my headlamp and crawled a few feet in. I tried to send a text through the burner to theirs, but there was no message going through. I quickly made my way back, until I could push my body upward from the hole. I was already covered in dirt. 

"The message isn't going through," I said.

We all looked at each other. This wasn't boding well.

"Two hours. You have two hours to get to the end. We are going in at 700 on the dot," Kazuo replied. It was 5 am in Russia. We decided to start early to make our approach unexpected and figured the darkness would help us. 

I had two hours to crawl around a mile. 

Time to go. 

I nodded once. 7 am it is. I started crawling as fast as I could. 

All I could think about was Anatoly. I hoped he was okay. He was a fighter, but he wouldn't break to save his sister. I understood, but it still scared me. I knew he was likely being tortured. Situations like these tended to go south quite quickly when the person in captivity didn't cooperate. No matter how hard it was to breathe under here and how long I had to army crawl, I tried to keep up the pace. I needed to get him out as soon as possible. The ground was hard, but I didn't have much room to crawl. There was no turning around here, not with my size anyway. Kazuo was right. Anyone slightly bigger would likely get stuck here. 

I checked my watch. I was an hour down. I didn't know how much length I had left to go, but I picked up the pace. If I was lagging behind, I couldn't be late. My arms and legs were sore and would probably be bruised, but none of it mattered. 

I didn't believe in a God; I don't think anyone who worked in my line of work did, but I hoped, if anyone was listening, I hoped that he was alive. That he was okay. And I hoped I could save him. 

Until finally, I stopped right in front of the wooden wall. It had no opening through my side. I would have to push it in or stab through it. I looked at my watch. 6:45. I had 15 minutes. I tried to press my ear to the wall. I couldn't hear anything. It was early. I hoped everyone was sleeping. I hoped this would go easy. 

I mentally prepared myself for everything that would be happening, staring at the seconds that continued to pass. 

Please, let him be okay. Let everyone I brought with me be okay. 

I heard a slam and gunshots. I waited for two more minutes and pushed on the wooden door. It didn't move. Since I couldn't really run up to break it down. I pulled out the knife in my boot. I stabbed until the door fell, quickly falling into the room towards two guns pointing at me. 

I moved quickly and swung my leg around forcefully, dropping them to the ground. They kept their grip on their guns but were scrambling to their feet. I had my knife, and I started swinging. I stuck the knife next to the arm that was lifting the gun and punched him. Before I could take back my knife, I was pulled off by the other guy. I backed us to slam the guy backwards against the wall. He released me, and I kicked the other guy, who was standing up, in the chest. He staggered back. I turned around quickly and punched the guy. His head slammed against the wall, and he slid down to the floor. 

The other guy with the ripped sleeve held a gun to me and held a knife in the other. He pressed the gun against my forehead and the knife against my chest, not enough to hurt but to make its presence known. 

One. Two. Three. I swept my hands as I held my breath on an exhale, quickly shoving away the weapons. I pulled out my own gun and shot him with tranquilizers. I then shot the first guy too; I could never be too safe. I heard some grunting from a large metal closet. I ran and opened it. 

Anatoly. 

His eyes were black, and there was blood everywhere on his skin. He was down to his boxers, open wounds and developing scars all over his skin. He looked at me, and a wave of relief crashed over me. He was alive. 

I pulled off the tape from his mouth quickly. 

"Are you okay?" I asked as I untied his hands. When they were released, they wrapped around me. 

"We've gotta go, baby," I whispered.

He nodded and started to move towards the door, limping with his left leg.

I took a hold of him, supporting his weight before an explosion knocked us both back on the ground, and the world went black. 

#

It was hot. Something smelled like burning. I opened my eyes, dazed. I saw the smoke beginning to fill the basement. 

I sat up slowly, a piece of the roof on me and a nail going through my shin. 

Anatoly was unconscious on my left. I shook his body. "Anatoly, we have to go." 

His eyes didn't open. I went over and pressed my ear against his chest. He was barely breathing, and his pulse was weak. 

No. No.

I tried to get up, but the plank connected to the nail was making it impossible. I took off my belt and wrapped it above the nail plank. With a deep breath, I pulled it straight out.

Holding on to the table nearby, I stood up. I grabbed the two guns that were pointed at me earlier and put them in my boots. Then I picked up Anatoly the best I could on my back and wrapped his arms around me like a backpack. I knew I had to make my way up before this entire place collapsed. 

I touched the door knob, and opened the door quickly. It wasn't too hot yet, and I realized why after moving towards the outside of the basement. The stairs were leading up, and the fire hadn't spread down yet. I tried to move as fast as I could with more than my body weight on my back. I breathed hard, but I needed to get him out. 

We appeared in the living room. It was ablaze, and many people were collapsed on the ground. 

I crawled quickly to a familiar face. "Kazuo. Wake up."

His eyes immediately opened, and his hands went straight for my neck. He didn't squeeze, realizing who I was. 

"Sebastian and Charlotte? Claude and Julinha?" I asked. 

"Seb and Charlotte--outside," he said between coughs. "Claude and Julinha--upstairs." 

"Can you move?" I asked him. 

He moved his legs and then sat up. 

"Get outside, Kazuo." 

"Claude and--" 

"No. Help me get Anatoly outside. I'll take care of the rest." 

He stood, not all the way up and grabbed one of Anatoly's arms. I took the other side, and we started walking towards the front door. 

Sebastian was there with the company helicopter. When he saw us approaching, he ran and came to us, taking Anatoly from me. 

I started to head back.

"Where are you going?" Sebastian yelled. 

"Claude and Julinha are still in there." 

Charlotte ran to me. "I can help. Put this on." She handed me a wet rag.

I took it and tied it around my mouth and nose. "No, help them. Anatoly needs medical attention. I'll be back really soon." 

She nodded and gave me two more rags. I ran inside heading upstairs when I saw them on the staircase. 

They were both trying to figure out how to come down. There was a burning plank in front of them. The railing had caught fire. I tossed the rags to them and ran to get an axe next to the fireplace. It was hot, but I ignored the further damage to my hands. I chopped until a piece of the plank fell on the floor. I was sweating profusely but used the axe to get the plank off the stairs. I reached out and helped Claude get Julinha down from the remaining steps, right before the stairs began to collapse.

We got outside as fast as we could to where Sebastian, Charlotte, Kazuo, and a conscious Anatoly all had their hands up. 

Valerik and two bodyguards. 

Claude and Julinha immediately put their hands up through the coughing they couldn't help.

"Your name isn't Svetlana, is it?" he asked me. 

I didn't say anything, but my eyes narrowed. 

"You've made my life quite difficult," he continued. "I only want what is mine. What you took from me." 

"You'll never have her so long as I live," I said. 

Without hesitation, he pointed the gun at me. 

Maybe it was the anger in me, the seething rage of what he'd done to my boyfriend, but I couldn't help myself. I ran and launched myself at him. We both fell on the floor. 

He rolled so that he was on top of me, and he punched me. The world around us ceased to exist, and he did not hesitate to keep striking me. 

I was not the weak girl that allowed men to hit her. Not anymore. I didn't take it from Michael Devine. Valerik Boyko wouldn't either. 

I got a hold of his wrists and pulled one completely above him before swinging my legs to wrap around his neck, trying to choke him. He fought the grip out of my hands and squeezed my nail wound. On reflex, my legs flinched, and it gave him a chance to remove his head. We both quickly dove for the loose gun, and I forced our hands up to prevent it from going off. 

For once, I was grateful for the fact that I was shorter than my opponent. I slammed my forehead against his nose. He dropped to clutch his nose, and I pulled the trigger. 

He collapsed immediately. 

There was a ringing in my ears, and I felt myself falling too. 

I was dragged up onto the jet by someone and laid next to Anatoly. 

"Live," he said to me, taking my hand.

"Only if you do." 

I saw an IV on him and felt a poke on my hand. 

I took Anatoly's free hand with mine. 

"I love you," he said, beating me to the punch. 

"I love you too." 

"Marry me," he said, his eyelids fighting to stay open. 

A wave of heaviness passed through me. "Yes.."