Between a Rescue and an Old Enemy

Between a Rescue and an Old Enemy
Dominic’s Point of View

The phone vibrated in my pocket the very moment I closed the office door behind me. The sharp sound echoed through the silent second-floor hallway of the mansion, and for a second I just stared into the void in front of me before answering.

“Hello,” I said, my voice low and already weary.

“It worked,” Nicolai’s voice came from the other end, direct but laced with contained tension. “The original driver had a traffic ‘accident.’ Nothing too serious, but enough to take him out of the operation.”

I stopped in the middle of the hallway. My body stood still, but my mind began working at an absurd speed, fitting each piece exactly where it should be.

“And our man?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

There was a brief silence before the reply.

“They just confirmed it. He was called in as a replacement; he’s officially assigned to drive the transport vehicle.”

I closed my eyes for a brief second, exhaling slowly through my nose. Everything in place, and nothing out of the ordinary.

“Perfect,” I murmured, more to myself than to him. “So everything’s set.” I opened my eyes and stared at the dark hallway ahead of me, lit only by a few yellowish lights on the walls. The house was too quiet, too empty. “Tomorrow,” I continued, my voice firmer now. “In the late afternoon, I’ll finally pay off that damn debt.”

I could see everything clearly in my head. I had thought through every tiny detail, all to ensure everything went perfectly, because the slightest mistake could set a cunning madman loose out there.

The man who suffered the “accident” was no coincidence. A subtle, calculated nudge to his car, at a specific intersection, at the right moment. Nothing that would raise serious suspicion, but enough to take him out of circulation, and then our man would step in. A clean record, an acceptable profile, a history carefully manipulated over the last few months. Bribes paid to the right people within the prison administration, small favors pulled here and there, until he became a plausible… reliable replacement option if something happened to the designated driver.

I didn’t force doors open; I made them open on their own.

I rested my head lightly against the wall for a second, feeling the weight of the day finally hit me.

It was already night; the house was so quiet. Yulia, as always, was nowhere to be seen. My mother… I let out a small sigh through my nose at the thought of her; the woman hadn’t shown her face since I kicked her out a week ago, and I couldn’t be happier about it. Irina wasn’t someone I wanted to deal with right now, not yet. She was wounded, and people like her… came back worse.

Jamie and Maggie were probably sleeping in their rooms. How everything between us was separate now.

“Are you sure you want to be there?” Nicolai asked suddenly, pulling me back. “You could just pass on the plan tomorrow, let the men carry it out, and coordinate from a distance. You don’t need to put yourself out there like this in this mess.”

I let out a low snort, uncrossing my arms.

“Do you think something’s going to go wrong?” I asked, bluntly.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how risky this is.”

I tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling for a second.

“When has any of our operations not been risky?” I replied, letting my irritation show a little more. “The difference is that this time there’s no margin for error. None.” I pushed myself away from the wall and began walking slowly down the hallway. “We’re talking about a maximum-security transport. Armed convoy, monitored route, constant communication with headquarters, and yet…” I let out a cold half-smile. “And yet, it’s going to happen.” My voice came out lower, more controlled. “That’s exactly why I’ll be there. I want to see every second of this operation unfold; I want to make sure nothing goes wrong.” I paused briefly. “And I’m going to hand the bastard over to Marco myself.”

On the other end of the line, Nicolai let out a heavy sigh.

“I figured you’d say that,” he muttered. “I just thought it was worth a try.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

“You know me too well to try to change my mind.”

He let out a low sound, almost a humorless laugh, and then the line went silent for a second. That’s when I heard it—a female voice, low and sleepy. Indistinct, but definitely there.

I furrowed my brow immediately.

“Nicolai,” I called out slowly.

“What is it?” he replied, quickly.

“Is that a woman?”

Silence.

“…What?”

I stopped walking.

“Someone spoke just now,” I said, bluntly. “A woman’s voice…”

On the other end, the silence stretched on for another second.

“Hmmm,” he replied.

“Curious. A lawyer who’s never at a loss for words, going silent like that.” I ran my hand over my beard, thoughtfully. “You don’t have to tell me,” I added shortly after, my voice more neutral. “It’s okay.”

It took him a little longer this time.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally said, hesitantly. “When I’m ready, I’ll tell you.”

I was silent for a moment, taking it all in.

Complicated—I couldn’t remember the last time Nicolai had dated. After the mess with Maggie, I’d preferred to stay out of his love life; after all, he’d been in love with my wife, but now that passion had apparently faded.

I nodded slightly, even though I knew he couldn’t see me.

“I just want things to work out for you,” I said, and realized that was true. “I want you to be happy. That’s what matters.”

The words took me by surprise, even though I was the one saying them.

“I am,” Nicolai replied, and this time there was something different in his voice. Lighter, more… alive. “I’m very happy. She… she’s very special to me.” He hesitated for a second before adding, “I think I’m really falling in love with her.”

I fell silent. Something squeezed my chest unexpectedly, but I ignored it.

“I’m glad to hear that, man,” I replied at last, sincerely.

The line went silent again.

“You and Maggie…” Nicolai began.

“It’s over.” I cut him off; I wasn’t going to get into that shit. I’d been trying so hard not to think about it, and I wasn’t going to fall into that trap now. Wanting so badly to pay off Marco’s debt wasn’t just to get rid of the Italian; it was to do what I promised Maggie and put an end once and for all to this limbo we were living in now. “I won’t be able to forgive her completely; she wouldn’t be completely happy here… we just didn’t work out; I got tired of trying to fit a piece where it doesn’t belong.”

The words came out of my mouth colder than I actually felt, and I ran my hand over my beard, trying to cling to anything that would keep me firm in that decision. I lifted my face… when I heard it.

A sob.

It was low, almost swallowed, but it was enough. In the dimness of the hallway, lit only by the faint glow of a distant lamp, I saw her. Maggie was standing in the doorway of her room, motionless, as if she’d been caught red-handed doing something she shouldn’t have been hearing. Our eyes met, and for a full second, the world simply stopped.

“Sorry, I was just going to get some water…” she said too quickly, her voice low, almost stumbling over her words.

She didn’t wait for a reply, just lowered her head and started walking. I watched her pass by me, each silent step on the wooden floor echoing louder inside me than any gunshot I’d ever heard. The black silk nightgown hugged her body in a way that made me clench my teeth, molding every curve that her pregnancy had accentuated; the thin fabric seemed to struggle to contain the fullness of her breasts, and her scent… fuck… her scent lingered in the air after she passed.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, taking a deep breath, as if that would save me from myself. This shit was endless torture.

“Dominic…” Nicolai’s voice came from the other end of the line, pulling me back.

I opened my eyes slowly.

“Sorry, Nicolai. Is there anything else you need to tell me? I’m a little tired.” If he had said anything, my head, filled with Maggie in a black silk nightgown, hadn’t registered it.

The silence on the other end lasted a second longer than usual.

“It’s nothing, we can talk when all this shit is over… Tomorrow I’m going to call a meeting with all the men on the operation, you’ll go over everything, and then we’ll be ready to get that bastard Massimo Esposito out of jail.”

I exhaled slowly just hearing his name.

Massimo Esposito.

Nothing about it seemed right, and nothing pleased me.

“I just hope this bomb doesn’t come back and blow up in our faces,” I said finally.

“It won’t,” Nicolai replied, but even he didn’t seem entirely convinced.

I hung up, without another word. I stood still for a few seconds in the middle of the empty hallway, the phone still in my hand, the silence of the house weighing on me. All I wanted… was to turn around, walk down that hallway, open the door to her room, lie down next to her, and forget the world, but, of course, I didn’t.

“This shit is over, Dominic. Someday you’ll have to accept it,” I muttered to myself.

I pushed open my bedroom door; the bed was too big and too cold when I lay down, and so I slept alone.

The next day, the world went back to spinning the way it always did for me. Cold, calculated, and with no room for error, and on that particular day, the final thing had to happen no matter what.

I was sitting in the backseat of the car, parked on a secluded side road off the main highway. The spot had been handpicked—a stretch where cell service was already naturally spotty, surrounded by dense trees and a curve long enough to create a blind spot lasting a few seconds. Seconds that would cost millions, or lives.

In front of me, on the modified control panel, a screen displayed live footage from a drone hovering over three hundred meters high. High enough to remain undetected, far enough to look like just another speck in the sky. In my ear, the communicator crackled softly.

“Alpha Team in position.”

“Beta Team ready.”

“Jammer active in ten… nine…”

I tilted my head slightly.

The operation wasn’t just about switching vehicles; that would be amateurish. I had ensured three layers of control. The first was the driver who had been replaced after the primary’s accident… and he was on my payroll.

The second layer was communication.

“Jammer active.”

The moment the voice sounded in my ear, I knew that all signals in the area were being jammed—not completely cut off, as that would draw immediate attention, but distorted just enough to delay any attempt at contact between the vehicles in the convoy.

Interference, noise, confusion.

The third layer… was time.

All of this had to happen in less than fifteen seconds. I looked at the digital timer ticking away on the screen and took a deep breath.

“Positions confirmed,” I said. My voice came out low, controlled. “The cars can pass in twenty seconds.”

I waited two.

Three.

I switched channels.

“Now.” On the other end, my man understood.

On the screen, I saw the car carrying Massimo subtly increase its speed, almost imperceptible to anyone not looking.

Then it happened.

Three black cars appeared on the road like predators; they cut in front of the escort vehicles in an aggressive move, calculated down to the millimeter. It wasn’t a simple cut-off; it was controlled chaos. One of them slowed down abruptly, another changed lanes without signaling, the third feigned a momentary loss of control.

There were screeching brakes and honking horns.

One second.

Two.

That was all we needed.

“The gap is open,” someone said over the communicator.

On the screen, the car with Massimo shot ahead, and then… he vanished from the main route, turning onto the detour. At that very same second, another identical vehicle took his place. Same model, same color, same license plate. Even the dirt marks had been replicated.

In the “replaced” car was one of my guarantees. The driver would take all the blame when everything came to light; he would never say a word about me or the bratva… not out of blind loyalty, but because he knew exactly the price of betraying the mafia. In exchange, I had guaranteed something that, to him, was worth more than his own life: safety, money, and a decent future for his entire family. His children would grow up protected, far from all this… and his wife would have the chance to live a better life.

I watched without blinking.

The escort cars regrouped behind the replacement vehicle… as if nothing had happened.

Perfect.

Clean.

“Swap confirmed,” the voice sounded.

I exhaled, and only then realized I’d been holding my breath.

“Team, stand down,” I ordered.

The black cars vanished from the road as quickly as they’d appeared, and on the screen, now as if nothing had happened, the original convoy continued… this time carrying a ghost.

I turned off the monitor, then opened the car door and the cool afternoon air rushed in, and I stepped out of the back seat.

The side road was silent, lined with tall trees that partially blocked the sunlight. I walked to the front of the car just as I saw the vehicle approaching down the dirt road, kicking up a light cloud of dust behind it. The sound of the engine seemed louder than it actually was, probably because of the tension still coursing through my veins. Every second of that operation had been calculated, timed, mentally rehearsed dozens of times… and yet, until that very moment, nothing was guaranteed. The car stopped a few meters in front of me, the engine still running for a second before dying.

The driver’s door opened quickly and the man got out, stumbling slightly as he touched the ground. He was sweating, his face pale, his eyes wide as if he were still trying to process what he had just done. He had pushed himself to the limit… and yet he had delivered.

“Sir,” he said, his voice faltering slightly.

I took a step forward, staring at him coldly, but inwardly registering every detail. There were no sirens, no suspicious movement on the horizon. Now the communication had been relayed to the other car; with the help of our hackers, they would only realize they were escorting an empty car when it was already too late.

“You did a great job,” I said, firmly. He nodded quickly, almost too relieved to hear that. “Go with Yuri. Everything is already set up for you and your family to leave the country safely.”

His eyes shone with something that wasn’t fear this time—it was gratitude… and despair.

“Thank you, sir. I will always be grateful for what you’re doing for my family.”

I just nodded.

For men like me, gratitude was irrelevant. What mattered was loyalty… and silence.

He quickly looked away, as if holding my gaze were too dangerous, and hurried toward the other car where Yuri was already waiting for him; within seconds, he was leaving this country, and no one would ever hear from him again. Europe was his destination, with enough money for three generations, protection, and a real chance to save his wife.

That was how I bought true loyalty.

When I was left alone in front of the car, the air seemed to shift. Inside was the reason for it all.

I raised my hand slightly, making an almost imperceptible signal; my men moved immediately. Two on each side, in sync. I brought my hand to the gun holstered at my waist, pulling it out from under my heavy coat. The cold metal fit perfectly in my palm, and I cocked the trigger without taking my eyes off the car. I made a small gesture with my chin, and the doors swung open simultaneously.

“What the hell is going on?” The voice was laced with confusion and irritation… and it wasn’t Massimo’s.

The guard, the only one accompanying Massimo in the car, was already half-upright, trying to figure out why a car that shouldn’t have stopped at all was stopped. I had also made sure that it would be exactly the right man to fall at that moment. A corrupt, despicable guard who used the authority he had to abuse those who couldn’t defend themselves… and cowardly enough to take out his brutality on his own wife.

I didn’t hesitate.

My finger pressed the trigger, and the shot echoed sharply on the open road, loud enough to cut through the silence, but fast enough to leave no room for reaction. The bullet struck him square in the center of his forehead. His body fell forward immediately, tumbling out of the car and hitting the ground with a heavy, hollow thud, and blood began to stream down the side of his head, staining the light-colored dirt of the road.

I kept my gaze on him for two seconds, then looked up and met Massimo Esposito’s eyes.

Chained.

Motionless.

Smiling.

That son of a bitch was smiling.

His eyes were alive, alert, taking in everything around him with a speed I recognized. He was already putting the pieces together, already calculating. We stared at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch longer than it actually lasted, then he spoke.

“You really are surprising, Volkov. You put me behind bars… and then you get me out yourself.” His smile widened, sharper, more venomous. “Do I have to fear for my life now?”

I kept the gun pointed for another second before slowly lowering it, letting out a controlled sigh.

“Lucky for you, I’m not letting you go of my own free will… much less for something in my own interest.” I took a small step forward, towering over him, making it crystal clear who was in control of the situation. “Then no… as far as I’m concerned, you don’t need to fear for your life.”

He blinked and his smile faltered.

“So… what the hell is going on?”

I held his gaze, letting the weight of the answer come with every word.

“I’m paying a debt.”