Page 39 of Unholy Matrimony

“You will come back to me,” her words come out with assertion, “You will not leave me here to be alone.”

“Moy I’vitsa5 has spoken.”

As I walk out the door, the guilt hits. I see Oleg and Ilya waiting in the car. “The fuck took so long,” Ilya presses as I close the door.

“Nothing, let's just get this over with.” Oleg’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. He nods his head, letting me know he gets the turmoil I am going through. He goes through it every time he leaves Mila. Ilya reaches over to the stereo and cracks the volume up on the metal song that is playing. The music helps to get my mind on the task at hand.

The ride is long, but this allows us to go over everything, so there are no fuck ups. “The apartment is on the second floor, so we will have to come down a flight of stairs afterward. Think you can handle that, Oleg?” Ilya trying to start shit per usual.

“Shut the fuck up. I am not the one who trips over his own feet. Don’t forget, brother. I am faster than you. Better shot too.” Oleg retorts.

I swear to God these two fight like they are still in primary school.

Luckily, they are both very good at killing people. I trust them with my life. I can’t say that about other people in our crew. The drive drags on; I try to keep Lina off my mind. Oleg and Ilya continue to bicker like the siblings they are, about who is the better shot, who could outrun who. This is what it must be like having a sibling, annoying as shit. I laugh, listening to them keep the mood light. After a few more minutes, Ilya says, “ETA is ten minutes. We will park in the lot behind the complex. It should be close enough to book it afterward.”

After finding the parking lot, we sit and scope the place out. Oleg pulls out the laptop where we can pull up the camera feed of the complex, and the hacked feed from the interior cameras. We counted six people in the apartment, all men. All Yuri’s guys, we recognize all but one of them. “Not horrible. Could be much worse.” Ilya shrugs.

“What do you think? Two guys each. Whoever kills their two first doesn’t have to chip in for dinner?” Ilya wagers.

Oleg nods, “You’re on, Suka6.”

We waited in the car all morning and afternoon. The sun is finally descending into the sky. Not completely sure why the Pakhan wanted us to get here so early if we aren’t supposed to make the hit until the evening. We get out and start gearing up tactical pants, and tactical bullet-proof vests with balaclavas. I take my guns out of my bag and make sure they are hot. I holster the extra mags and my knives and say a brief prayer. Oleg looks to be doing the same. He takes out his phone, sends a quick text, and turns it off.

I take out my phone. A photo of Lina and me on our wedding day makes me smile. I type out a quick text.

Lenya: YA lyublyu tebya, Lina. Ty ves' moy mir. Skoro uvidimsya, malyshka. 7

Before she can respond, I turn my phone off.

We all look at each other, nod, and start walking towards the building. Crossing the parking lot unnoticed wasn’t an issue. How we will get into the building is a better question. We scale and hop the fence that is separating the parking lot and the actual complex, damn I need to run again. Fucking Lina every night does not make up for the cardio I am missing out on.

Posted up on the side of the building, we wait. It's quiet, and there is no movement anywhere. Oleg rounds the corner and pulls on the side door. It’s unlocked, “Dumb fucks!”

I roll my eyes, “Yuri really needs to source better guys. Who leaves a door unlocked?” Ilya shrugs his shoulders. We make our way into the stairwell. Ascending the stairs, we hug the wall so that we can get the best view of any threats.

Oleg is leading, motioning that he wants eyes on the door. He swings it open, and with his gun drawn, he enters the hallway. I follow behind, Ilya right on my heels. The apartment is to the right of the stairwell. The three of us stand before the door. They gave me the go-ahead. I take a step back and throw all my weight into the door. It breaks off its hinges and crashes to the floor.

We enter the apartment, weapons drawn, and as soon as we turn the corner, bullets start ricocheting. The six of Yuri’s men are taking cover, yelling in Russian, “Kto ty, chert voz’mi?”8

“Smert'. Kto ty?” 9Ilya shouts back.

The men laugh from the other room, “Show your face Death, we will send you back to Hell where you belong.”

I look around and see an opening that looks to be a different way into the main living space. I get Oleg’s attention, letting him know I am going to go this way. He nods. He continues the banter back and forth to keep them occupied.

The room leads to an archway into the main living space. The six men are scattered, making them vulnerable if the twins can run down the hall quickly enough. While Oleg is talking shit to the men, Ilya tosses a smoke bomb into the room and that is the signal to go. I take a position in the arch and take out the guy who was shooting down the hall at them.

When he drops, two other guys turn to me and start firing. I drop to the floor and draw a knife. I grab one of them by the ankle and pull him to the floor, stabbing him in the eye. Yanking the knife out his eye comes with it.

I hear gunshots, but with the surrounding smoke, I can’t tell from whom. The other guy’s body drops to the floor next to us. I slit his throat to be sure he doesn’t get up. “EEL?” Praying, he responds.

“Da10, you need my help already?” he smacks my back. “Where is Oleg?”

There was a gurgled scream from across the room. Hopping over the bodies on the floor, we make our way to the sound. Oleg has one of them in a headlock and they are rolling around on the ground. Ilya steps forward.

“Don’t you fuckers move. I got this.” He snaps the guy's neck, the body going limp.

The smoke dissipates, and we remove the balaclavas we can finally see around us. I count six men. We check them to make sure they are dead. “We need to be out of here in 5 before anyone can come to check,” Ilya lets us know. Just as I am about to check on the last guy, he rolls over and takes a shot at Ilya. It grazes his arm. “Blyat!11” I jump on top of the shooter and take my knife to his carotid, slicing through. Blood gushes from the wound, staining my clothes. I try to wipe it away, but it just smears across my face.

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