Anatoly's Retribution Read online

  This was not a drill. The lights around the property were turned on to illuminate every inch of the 32,000 square feet, the men continuously walked every inch of the grounds, trained dogs roamed the yards, sniffing out all possible threats of trouble. In short, all security measures were in place. Boss Anatoly Medlov had been assaulted by someone at a club only six hours ago. With no real way to say who it was and no real way to say it was over, the men did what they did best – they prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.

  Shortly after dawn on the exclusive celebrity-infested enclave of Star Island, a large procession of luxury vehicles waited on the street for the towering iron gates of Anatoly’s newly-occupied home to creak open.

  “Boss Dmitry Medlov has arrived on property. Proceed with access. Over,” a Southern American guard confirmed from his decked-out security room in the back of the mansion. With a plate of croissants and a cup of hot coffee in front of him, he watched the monitors carefully before hitting the gate access key on the computer. Today, there could be no errors. Anyone who fell under the supervision of Marat, knew the cost.

  “Confirm party number, over,” the Russian guard replied, pushing the mic to his earpiece. If one more than the cars confirmed tried to gain access, the guard was ready to kill without impunity. No access. No mistakes. Those were the only two directives in his mind right now.

  The guard inside counted three times quietly to make sure he was correct, then relayed his message. “Six SUVs. Eight motorcycles. Over.”

  “Copy that,” the guard outside responded. His finger brushed over the trigger and a ripple of nervousness ran over him. Entry points were always the most vulnerable. If an attack was planned, more than likely it would happen now.

  Stepping out from his cloaked position, the muscular Russian guard in black tactical gear with a fully automated machine gun flanked over his chest, waved the convoy to proceed inside, counting each car and motorcycle as they passed him, before closing the gate.

  The beams of their bright halogen lights shined down the short path leading to the red-topped mega-mansion and the heavy fog that danced across the dewy manicured lawn and a canopy-like palm trees. Engines roared as they moved quickly past the guard, a gust of wind blowing in his face. He counted down to the last vehicle and reported in.

  “Six SUVs, eight motorcycles, all headed to the front door. Prepare to receive and unload. Over,” the guard spoke into his ear piece and stepped back into the shadows of his position.

  “Copy that,” the American guard answered. He switched channels to communicate with the guards waiting at the front of the house. “Tighten your shit. Here comes the big dog. Six SUVs, eight motorcycles. ETA two minutes.”

  The Medlov family had arrived – not one – but the family in its entirety. In bullet proof SUVs with dark-tinted windows, they filed into the front of the massive house, around the concrete water fountain in the middle of the circular drive, where a large party of armed guards opened their doors and started to remove their bags from the trunks.

  Dmitry Medlov was the first to step out, followed by his wife, Royal; Gabriel followed with his wife Valeriya, Vasily stepped out with his wife Lilly, and a vehicle in the back opened for Nadei, Boris and Peaches.

  The gang was all here.

  It was unfortunate that it wasn’t for a friendly visit. Someone, somewhere needed to die, and soon. No one violated a Medlov and got away with it.

  Dmitry’s icy blue eyes were blank. After receiving word that his boy had been hurt, he gave the entire family ten minutes to pack and be prepared to leave or be left behind. He had packed nothing at all, not even a clean pair of underwear. Nine years ago, he had promised his son that he would watch over him. Nine years ago, he had been given a second chance at life, and he would be damned if anyone took that away from him.

  Royal had another task at hand. Renee had been protected until now. Anatoly had made sure that she was never touched by anything, but the life of a wife of a Medlov eventually came to this. At some point, the wife had to make the choice on where she stood – otherwise the entire family would fall. Renee had made that choice six hours ago.

  It had not been a long conversation. Panicked, Renee had called back home to Memphis as soon as Marat came barging into the house, carrying her unconscious husband in his arms. In her life with Anatoly and all the crazy things he had done, she had never seen her husband in such a state. A screeching scream had rushed from her belly and echoed through the house. She ran down the long stairs in her pajamas to Anatoly and tried to shake him awake. Tears streamed down her face. Her soul trembled with fear. Her first thought had been that Anatoly had been murdered, but when she was told that he was drugged, she knew that it was time to call the patriarch of the family. Dmitry would fix this! But Marat had already called Dmitry in the car from the club. He was still on the phone with Marat when Renee called, so he told Royal to call Renee back on her cell and let her know that everything was going to be okay.

  Royal, without question, had called Renee and informed her that they had been briefed on the situation, and they were on the way. After so many brushes with death herself, Royal understood this unique position better than most.

  She knew that it was her job to fortify her friend, and she couldn’t do that unless she was there by her side.

  For six tortuous hours after that call for help, Renee sat quietly beside her husband, still dressed in his jeans and T-shirt, as he rested on their king-sized bed. His long blonde hair splayed over the pillow. His angelic face slack and pale. His mountainous chest rose and fell as he slept heavily. With her small hand wrapped around his, she prayed that he would wake up soon. She prayed that he would be alright. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she prayed for his retribution.

  When Anatoly had first been carried to the house, a doctor was there waiting. They laid Anatoly on the sofa, and the doctor gave him a dose of Narcan that filled him with so much adrenaline, he shot up, eyes open, swinging and fighting out of his incapacitation.

  After they calmed him, the doctor gave him a shot of something to keep him relaxed, and after a few tests, confirmed that Anatoly had ingested party drugs. The doctor’s final analysis after hooking Anatoly up to an IV was to let him sleep it off.

  “He’ll have one hell of a hangover. When he wakes, hydrate him constantly, feed him and make him rest for a full day – no strenuous activity,” the doctor instructed. “After that, he should be fine in a day or two, but I’ll swing back around tomorrow afternoon to see how he’s doing.”

  Renee knew little of Anatoly’s work, but she knew her husband. Drugs were not something that he partook in ever. If he had ingested them, it had not been done with his knowledge.

  “Nice place,” Royal commented as Dmitry grabbed her hand. He led her to the front door of the mansion and stepped back to allow her to enter first with him following shortly behind.

  Marat was waiting downstairs in the living room on the sofa. When he was informed that Dmitry had arrived, an immense anxiousness overwhelmed him for the first time in his life. Would his boss blame him? Would he kill him? Rushing to the front door as soon as he heard it open, he nodded as Royal passed without acknowledgement – something most unlike her - and stood waiting for Dmitry’s impending judgement.

  Dmitry stopped in front of Marat, his right eye twitching. He could read the man well after spending so many years with him. Marat was afraid – as he should have been. He paid all of his men a professional athlete’s salary to keep his family safe.

  “We didn’t know that the vodka was tainted,” Marat explained on cue. He kept his eyes focused on the marble floor and his boss’s large dress shoes, wondering if one of them might raise from the ground and kick him square in the mouth for his excuse.

  Dmitry’s face was a scowl, lines prominent in his tanned skin. He reached down and put his hand on Marat’s right shoulder. “Look at me,” he ordered in a deep, growling baritone that sent chills up Marat’s spine.

&n
bsp; Marat looked up, swallowing hard against his dry throat. “Boss, I love my captain. I would have never allowed this.”

  Ready for whatever, Gabriel stood behind Dmitry along with Vasily as Nadei and Peaches along with all the wives moved past them into the other rooms of the house. They knew all too well that it was time to pay the piper. Nadei knew better than most. But no one could save the man now. So, no one tried.

  Dmitry squeezed Marat’s shoulder with his thick fingers, sending a sharp pain down the nerves in his body. He waited for everyone else to move out of earshot before he uttered a word. “You kept him safe. You didn’t allow him to shoot out into the crowd. You didn’t allow him to be arrested. You didn’t allow him to be further-harmed. You did well in that regard.”

  Marat nodded gratefully. “Spasiba,” he said, heaving a sigh of relief.

  Dmitry raised a brow. “Don’t’ thank me yet, boy. You still let him get fucked. And the only way to make this right is to find who did this and fuck them harder, da? You must understand that this is my first born. My oldest child. You either give me someone to kill who is responsible for this, or you give me no choice but to kill someone who let this happen. This is life, eh?” Dmitry was certain his point was made. He also knew the young man would not disappoint. Still, everyone needed a little motivation, and now Marat had his.

  “Da,” Marat answered, nodding emphatically. “I will find the person responsible. I will make an example, no matter what.” He looked up at Dmitry, eyes full of determination. “I will, Boss.”

  “Yes, you will.” Dmitry peered up the long stairwell, feeling an inward pull toward it. He had spent enough time with Marat. There were more pressing issues. “Is my son up there?”

  “Which one?” Marat asked.

  Dmitry turned his gaze back to Marat. Shit. “Anil is here?” he asked, shocked. The only thing he had heard on the phone was that Anatoly was hurt, nothing else had registered.

  Marat felt redeemed, although he didn’t dare show it. When he had chosen to bring Anil with, it had not just been for the man’s safety but also for Dmitry’s favor. “Yes, Boss. I brought him here. I was afraid to leave him alone, considering…” The implications of what could have happened did not need to be stated.

  Gabriel looked over at Vasily and smirked. This was awkward. The old man had more than he bargained for today. He stepped into the conversation to lighten things, providing an air of levity despite their situation’s bleakness.

  “Let’s go see Anatoly first, just to make sure he’s okay. And then, Dmitry, why don’t you go and see your other son, alone. Maybe catch up a little.” Gabriel coughed into his hand and then waved it off. “Sorry, allergies.” He cleared his throat. “Where is Anil?”

  “He’s in the entertainment room, resting I think. He watched over Anatoly for a few hours to make sure his vitals were okay, and then he passed out,” Marat explained.

  Gabriel’s voice was light and diplomatic. He tried to highlight the very thin silver lining that was between Marat’s ass and Dmitry’s foot. “So, they’re both sleeping. They are both here. They are both safe. One could say, all is well,” he assured Dmitry. He eyed Marat. “I think you’ve earned yourself a little immunity. I mean, we could kill you now, but what would be the point, right? There will be plenty of people to kill very soon, if you do your job right.” Gabriel’s joke yielded no laughs, but his point was taken, and that was all he cared about. “Take your boss to see Anatoly, first. Vasily and I will find a place here to set up shop and start to figure out what the fuck. And the women can do whatever it is that they do.” He looked over at Dmitry and winked. “That okay with you, uncle?”

  “That’s fine,” Dmitry said, looking back up the stairs.

  So many emotions had just assailed him in an instant, it was hard to separate them. Sure, he wanted to meet his son, Anil, but more than anything he wanted to lay eyes on Anatoly and make sure that he was fine. Doctors knew their craft, but he knew his son, underneath the skin right down to his soul. If he saw him, he’d know what Anatoly needed. “Just take me to my boy,” he said under his breath to Marat. “Then go with Gabriel and Vasily and brief them on everything that you know, everything that my son said, everyone who was there. As a matter of fact, call Klenchvenko and tell him to get his fucking ass over here now!”

  ***

  Renee stepped out of their bedroom to give Dmitry an opportunity to sit with his son alone. To her surprise, however, Royal was waiting just outside the door in the hallway. Going to her, she wrapped her arms around her friend and held her tight.

  “God, I’m so glad to see you,” Renee confessed. She kissed Royal’s neck and shut her eyes tight.

  Seeing Renee cry made Royal cry, despite her determination to be strong for the both of them. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come?” Royal asked, moving a strand of hair from Renee’s face. She kissed her cheek. “Got a minute to talk?”

  “Sure,” Renee said, looking back at the closed bedroom door. She had not left Anatoly’s side since he had come home. She wondered now, if she was doing the wrong thing.

  “He’ll be fine,” Royal promised, pulling Renee away. “Come with me.”

  With little effort, they found an unoccupied room on the second floor to talk. Closing the door, Royal turned on the lights and made Renee sit down on the chaise lounge against the backdrop of the bay window. She could see the exhaustion in Renee’s red eyes and worry on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Renee asked.

  Royal kneeled before her. “Before I get to that, I need you to remember to be strong. Getting too stressed out with the baby could cause you to have a miscarriage. You have to center yourself. We’re all depending on you to bring that beautiful bundle of joy into this world.”

  Renee appreciated the reminder. “I’ll take it easy. I promise.” She rubbed her stomach lovingly.

  Royal looked at her friend, so beautiful and innocent and felt sorry for her. This wasn’t a world meant for that kind of disposition, yet here Renee was nearly at the head of a crime family. “I know for a long time, you’ve been struggling with our family’s profession – not just what we do with our council, but what our husbands do.”

  Renee looked away, ashamed of her resentment. “Is it that obvious?” She hated being so transparent. Anatoly seemed to have been born with a poker face, but she had never been able to hide her feelings. She wore them on her sleeve for all to see.

  “It’s obvious. And before now, I never wanted to say anything. I love you. I would never want to hurt you. You know that, right?” Royal asked.

  “Of course,” Renee said sincerely. “You’re my best friend.”

  “That’s why this isn’t easy.” Royal frowned. “It may not all be right or good or just, but it’s what we do.”

  Royal took a deep breath. “You have to stop seeing this world through rose-colored lenses, sweetheart. We are not in the business of good and just. I mean, every once in a while, we can exact some justice, but in order to exact that justice, something horrible has to already have taken place. I’m not as religious as you – I’ll be the first to admit it. But I know this. Man was born into this world for a short time and while he is here it will be full of trouble.”

  Royal’s words caught Renee’s attention. She looked at her best friend and tried to smile. “Say what you need to say, Royal. I’m listening.”

  “You’ve finally reached your cross road. You’re either going to sit back and judge everything that Anatoly does with cynicism and disdain, which will eventually cost you his love and your marriage…” She took a deep breath. “Or you’re going to stand with the family and take your rightful place to uphold him and strengthen him and defend him. You can’t straddle the fence any longer. Trust me. I know. When he wakes up, he’s going to want answers. He’s going to want revenge. He’s going to have to make an example. And he’s going to need his wife to tell him that whatever needs to happen can happen with her blessing.”

  Renee struggled
. Brushing a hand through her wild hair, she shook her head. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be there for him. Do you all not think that I have?”

  “I know you have,” Royal assured. “But I also know that you have not come to grips with who we are. We are the women of this family, the glue that holds everything together. We are the heat of the fire, the white of the flame, the tip of the bullet. It is our job to support them, even when they think that they have it all figured out. It is not our job, however, to provide strife and conflict in their souls.”

  Renee wiped tears from her eyes. “I have never wanted to hurt my husband.”

  “None of us wanted to, but we all have. We all have been where you are right now, which is why every single Medlov woman is here now to stand behind you and help you.” Royal took Renee’s hand in her own. “He gave you his last name, his child, his hopes, his dreams. It’s time for you to give him a break, a chance, an opportunity to be great. Don’t fill his heart with questions right now, Renee. Fill his heart with answers. Do you know why any of our guards would die for us without a second thought? It’s because they know that we would die for them also. We are a family more than anything else. We come up together, or we fall into the depths of despair together. No woman, no man, no government, no lies, no deception, nothing gets between us and our husbands. Nothing gets between our family. We’re protecting them, because without them, we will cease to exist. If they don’t kill our enemies, our enemies will kill us, our babies, our future. It’s horrible, but it is the simple truth. And the quicker you come to grips with it, the better off you’ll be.”

  Normally, Renee would have taken offense to meddling in her marriage, but Royal, being the person that she was, did not bring this conversation up around prying eyes. She had pulled her into this room and spoken her eloquent plea alone. Renee respected that, and she knew that her friend’s words were the truth.