Chapter 102 Nikolai
The hospital room was white and sterile and quiet. Too quiet after everything that had happened. I lay in the bed staring at the ceiling while doctors came and went, telling me how lucky I was to be alive.
Lucky. That was a strange word for what I felt. Three of my best men were dead. Sonya was dead. Anya was traumatized. And Ivanov sat in a comfortable cell waiting for a trial that would take years. That did not feel like luck.
Mikhail sat in the chair beside my bed. He had barely left since we arrived.
"You need to rest," he said.
"I have been resting for two days. I am tired of resting."
"The doctors said you need at least a week before leaving."
"The doctors can go to hell," I muttered.
Mikhail smiled. "There is the Nikolai I remember. I was worried Ivanov had broken you."
"He tried," I admitted. "But he failed."
"Good," Mikhail said. "Because we have work to do."
I looked at him. "What kind of work?"
"Taking back everything Ivanov stole from us. Your businesses. Your territory. Your reputation."
"And how do we do that? Ivanov is in prison but his organization is still intact. His guards. His connections. His money."
"Not for long," Mikhail said. "Half his guards have already switched sides. The ones who hated him."
"And the other half?"
"We deal with them," Mikhail said simply. I understood what that meant. Violence. Blood. War.
"What about the council? They backed Ivanov. They helped him take everything from me."
"The council is scared," Mikhail said. "They know you survived. They know Ivanov failed. They are wondering if they backed the wrong horse."
"Good," I said. "Let them wonder. Let them fear."
Mikhail studied me. "You are planning something."
"Yes," I said. "I am planning revenge."
"Prison is not enough?"
"No," I said flatly. "Prison is not enough. Not for what he did to me. To Anya. To Viktor and Dmitri and Pavel."
"What are you going to do?" Mikhail asked carefully.
"I am going to kill him. Before he ever sees the inside of a courtroom."
Mikhail was quiet for a moment. "That is dangerous. If you get caught."
"I will not get caught. Because you are going to help me."
"Am I?" Mikhail asked.
"Yes. Because you hate him as much as I do. Because he tried to kill you too. Because he destroyed everything we built."
Mikhail nodded slowly. "Alright. But we do this smart. We plan. We prepare. And we make sure there is no evidence."
"Agreed," I said.
Three days later I checked myself out of the hospital against medical advice. The doctors protested. Anya protested. But I was done waiting. Done healing. Done being patient.
Mikhail had arranged everything. A safehouse on the outskirts of Moscow. Weapons. Men. The guards who had switched sides numbered about fifteen. Not many but they were loyal. Grateful to be free of Ivanov. And angry.
I gathered them in the main room. "Most of you know me," I said. "I used to run half of Moscow's underworld before Ivanov took it from me. Before he murdered my friends. Before he tortured me and tried to execute me."
They listened intently.
"Now Ivanov is in prison," I continued. "But that is not enough. Prison is too good for him. Too safe. Too comfortable."
I paused. Let that sink in.
"So we are going to break into that prison and kill him. Not because we are criminals. But because he is a monster who deserves to die."
Murmurs ran through the group. Some nodded. Others looked uncertain.
"This is dangerous," I said. "If you do not want to come, I understand. But I am going. With or without help."
One man stepped forward. Gregor. The same Gregor who had spied on Viktor and the others.
"I want to come," he said.
I stared at him. "You betrayed us. You told Ivanov everything."
"I did," Gregor admitted. "Because he had my family. My wife. My daughter. He said he would kill them if I did not spy for him."
"Where are they now?"
"Safe. Mikhail rescued them. So now I want to help you kill the bastard who threatened them."
I studied his face. Saw the truth there. "Alright," I said. "You can come."
Others stepped forward. Fifteen men in total. Not an army but enough.
We spent the next two days planning. Studying the prison layout. Bribing guards. Finding weaknesses. The prison was maximum security but money could buy almost anything. Including access.
We would go in at night during a shift change. Three guards on the inside would help us. Ivanov's cell was on the third floor. Isolated. We would have maybe ten minutes before alarms went off. Ten minutes to get in, kill him and get out. It was a terrible plan. Too many things could go wrong. But I did not care. I needed this. Needed to look Ivanov in the eyes one last time.
The night before the job I visited Anya. She was staying in another safehouse under guard. Recovering slowly. The bruises on her face were fading but the ones inside would take longer.
"You are going to do it," she said when she saw my face. It was not a question.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Tomorrow night."
She was quiet for a long moment. "Will you come back?"
"Yes," I promised. "I will come back."
"You cannot promise that. This is insane. Dangerous. You could die."
"I could," I agreed. "But I will not. Because I have something to live for now."
I took her hand. "You," I said. "You are what I have to live for."
Tears filled her eyes. "Then do not do this. Let him rot in prison. Let the system handle him."
"The system failed us. The council protected him. The police ignored what he did. If we leave him alive, he will find a way out. He will come after us again. After you."
"So you are doing this to protect me?"
"Yes," I said. "And because he deserves to die."
She looked at me for a long time. Then she nodded. "Then kill him. And come back to me."
"I will," I said.
The next night we moved. Three vehicles. Fifteen men. All armed. All ready. We drove to the prison at midnight. The bribed guards let us in through a side entrance. No alarms. No alerts. Clean.
We moved quickly through the corridors. Up stairs. Past cells. Prisoners watched us pass but said nothing. They knew what was happening. They approved.
Ivanov's cell was at the end of a long hallway. Two guards stood outside. Our guards. They nodded and stepped aside. Mikhail unlocked the door. I walked in alone.
Ivanov sat on his bed reading a book. He looked up when I entered. His eyes went wide.
"Markov," he said. "How did you."
"Does it matter?" I asked. I closed the door behind me. Locked it.
Ivanov stood slowly. "You cannot do this. There are cameras. Guards. You will be caught."
"No," I said. "I will not. Because everyone in this prison either hates you or works for me now."
His face went pale. "What do you want?"
I pulled out a knife. The same knife he had used on me in the basement. Ivanov backed away. "You cannot. If you kill me, they will hunt you forever."
"Let them try," I said.
I lunged forward. Ivanov tried to fight but he was soft from prison. Weak. I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
"This is for Viktor," I said. I drove the knife into his stomach. He gasped. Blood poured from the wound.
"This is for Dmitri," I said. I twisted the knife. He screamed.
"This is for Pavel," I said. I pulled the knife out and drove it in again. His legs gave out. He slumped to the floor.
"And this," I said, leaning close so he could hear me. "This is for Anya."
I slit his throat. Blood sprayed across the cell. Across my hands. Ivanov gurgled. Reached for me. His eyes went wide with shock and fear. Then they went empty. He was dead.
I stood over his body for a moment. Feeling nothing. No satisfaction. No guilt. Just emptiness. It was done.
I walked out of the cell. Mikhail looked at me. At the blood on my hands. "Finished?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "Let us go."
We left the same way we came. No alarms. No problems. By morning Ivanov's body would be discovered. By afternoon the whole city would know. And the council would understand that I was back. And I was not afraid anymore.