Chapter 153: Counter-Strike

Chapter 153: Counter-Strike
On the second day, Sokolov fought back.

But not where she expected him. Not at a fortified position.

At Diana Chen’s art gallery.

The call had come at 3 PM. Diana on the other end, shaking.

“Anya. There are men here. With guns. They say they’re looking for you.”

Cold fire shot through Anya’s veins. “How many?”

“Four. Maybe five. They’re in the gallery. They told everyone else to leave. But they’re keeping me here.”

“Diana, listen to me carefully. Do exactly what they say. Don’t fight. Don’t run.” Anya was already moving. Grabbing weapons. “I’m coming.”

“They said—” Diana’s voice broke. “They said if you don’t come in twenty minutes, they’ll start hurting me.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Anya ended the call. Turned to Viktor. “Sokolov has Diana.”

Viktor’s expression went solid. “That’s a civilian. Against every rule.”

“Sokolov doesn’t follow rules. He follows results.” Anya checked her weapon. “He can’t beat us militarily. So he’s going after leverage.”

“It’s a trap.”

“I know. I’m going anyway.” Anya headed for the door.

Viktor grabbed her arm. “Not alone.”

“He said alone or she dies.”

“And you believe him?” Viktor’s grip tightened. “Anya, think. Sokolov doesn’t care about Diana. He cares about killing you. You walk in there alone, you’re dead.”

“Then I’m dead saving someone who matters.” Anya pulled free. “Diana gave me a job when no one else would. A chance. I’m not abandoning her.”

“So we bring backup. Discreet. Hidden.”

Anya hesitated. Then nodded. “Five minutes. That’s all you get to position.”

Viktor was already on his phone. “Roman. Diana’s gallery. Now. Full tactical. Stay invisible until I give the word.”

They drove across Brooklyn in a sprint. Anya’s mind racing.

Sokolov was going big. Targeting civilians. That meant he was desperate. Losing.

Or it meant he was more willing to be ruthless than she’d realized.

The gallery came into view. Normal from the outside. No apparent threat.

“Roman’s team is in position,” Viktor reported. “Rooftop across the street. Side alley. They have angles on all exits.”

“Tell them no shots unless I give the signal.” Anya hopped out of the car. “I need to see what Sokolov wants.”

“Anya—”

“Trust me.” She strode toward the gallery.

The door was unlocked. She pushed inside.

Four men inside. Armed. Professional. And Diana, tied to a chair in the center of the gallery.

“Miss Kozlov.” One of the men stepped forward. Russian accent. Late thirties. “Thank you for coming.”

“Let her go.”

“In time. First, Mr. Sokolov would like a word.” The man gestured to a phone on the gallery desk. “Please. Call him.”

Anya walked to the phone. Dialed the number.

Sokolov answered immediately. “Miss Kozlov. Punctual. I appreciate that.”

“What do you want?”

“Your attention. You’ve been busy destroying my operations. Impressive work. Very thorough.” Sokolov’s voice was calm. “But you’ve forgotten something important.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t need operations to destroy you. I just need to make you careless.” A pause. “Your friend Diana. Sweet woman. Knows nothing about our business. Innocent. Which makes her perfect.”

“If you hurt her—”

“You’ll what? Hunt me down? You’re already trying.” Sokolov laughed. “No. Here’s what happens. You have a choice. Diana’s life for yours. Simple exchange.”

“I’m not that stupid.”

“Then Diana dies. Slowly. While my men record it. And send it to everyone you care about.” Sokolov’s voice went cold. “Or you surrender. Come to The Plaza. Alone. Unarmed. And I let Diana go.”

“You’re lying.”

“Perhaps. But can you risk it?” Sokolov paused. “You have one hour. If you’re not here, my men start cutting.”

The line went dead.

Anya looked at Diana. Terrified. Brave. Trying not to cry.

The lead Russian gestured with his gun. “You heard him. One hour. Tick tock.”

Anya pulled out her phone. Sent a single text to Viktor.

“Go.”

Then everything happened at once.

Windows shattered. Flashbangs detonated. Roman’s team burst through three entry points simultaneously.

The Russians reacted. But they were a fraction too slow.

Two went down in the first seconds. The third raised his weapon toward Diana.

Anya shot him. Center mass. He dropped.

The fourth tried to run. Roman tackled him. Zip-tied him in seconds.

The whole operation took twelve seconds.

Anya rushed to Diana. Cut her bonds. “Are you hurt?”

Diana shook her head. Tears streaming. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Get her out of here,” Anya told Viktor. “Safe house. Full protection.”

“What about you?”

“I have a meeting at The Plaza.” Anya checked her weapon. “Sokolov wants me? He gets me. Just not the way he expects.”

“Anya—”

“I’m ending this. Today.” She looked at the captured Russian. “Take him too. He’s going to tell us everything about Sokolov’s security.”

Twenty minutes later, the Russian was talking.

Not because of torture. Because of pragmatism. His friends were dead. Sokolov had abandoned him. There was nothing left to be loyal to.

“Fifty soldiers total,” he said. “Thirty at The Plaza. Twenty scattered across the city. All elite. All willing to die for the Syndicate.”

“Security at The Plaza?”

“Every floor. Every exit. The penthouse is a fortress.” The Russian smiled bitterly. “You can’t breach it. Not without an army.”

“Good thing I have one.” Anya stood. Turned to Viktor. “Call Agent Chen. Tell her we’re moving on The Plaza in two hours.”

“FBI raid?”

“Combined operation. We hit from below. They hit from above. Trap Sokolov between us.” Anya’s eyes were hard. “This ends tonight.”

Viktor made the call. Chen agreed immediately.

The coalition assembled. Seventy soldiers. Full tactical gear. Coordinating with fifty FBI agents.

“This is unprecedented,” Irina said quietly. “Criminals and feds working together.”

“Everything about this is unprecedented.” Anya loaded magazines. “But it’s working. Sokolov’s down to thirty soldiers and one building. We have an army and the law on our side.”

“And after? When Sokolov’s gone?”

“We’ll deal with after when it comes.” Anya holstered her weapon. “Right now, we finish this.”

The teams moved out at 6 PM.

FBI on surrounding rooftops. Snipers. Surveillance. Waiting to move on Chen’s order.

Coalition forces split into three groups. One for each main entrance.

Anya led the center team.

At 6:45 PM, they received confirmation. Sokolov was in the penthouse. With his remaining soldiers.

Trapped.

“All teams,” Anya said into her radio. “On my mark.”

She looked at Viktor. At Roman. At the soldiers who’d followed her through hell.

“For New York.”

“For the coalition,” they answered.

Anya raised her hand.

And brought it down.

“Go.”

The assault began.

The final battle for New York had started.

And Anya Kozlov intended to win.