Page 73 of Devil's Retribution
Three days after Viktor came back to tell me of Igor’s death, we were on a private plane headed from Los Angeles to Port-Au-Prince. I was already missing Nick, who was staying with Darcy back home. I hadn’t wanted to say goodbye, but Viktor had already warned me that Haiti was no place for a young boy, no matter how we worked to avoid exposing him to what we were doing. I’d been worried about leaving him with my friend, but Viktor assured me that the threat had gone, he’d rooted out the spy in his organization and at least for the time being, we were safe from any Bratva retaliation. Our only threat right now, was my uncle.
Viktor stuck close to me for much of the time, protective as ever, and seeming to notice how troubled I was. As we neared Haitian airspace, he came and sat next to me, taking my hand in his.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
I looked up at him, then shook my head. “I- I know this has to happen. The man’s caused us both nothing but misery, and he’s threatening mine and Nick’s lives. The fact that I have to reconcile that this man and the Uncle Charles who raised me are the same person is… well, that will take a while. But it won’t make me hesitate.” Not after listening to his former security head casually talk about being sent to murder Nick as well.
No. That right there, more than anything, even more than losing my parents, was why my uncle had to die.
“Good. Now, there are going to be a lot of bribes paid out, and a few threats handed out as well, to grease the wheels once we touch down. Especially when it comes to my bringing over a dozen armed men here.”
I looked back into the seats of the small airplane, half of them were full of stone-faced men who would have terrified me just a few weeks ago. I was not frightened of them now. They knew who I was with, and they had been nothing but polite to me. “I understand,” I said quietly.
He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “I love you,” he said gently, shocking me with his matter-of-factness. “When all of this is over, I want to talk to you about a future together. But until then, I need you to hang on, follow my lead, and try not to panic no matter how violent things get.”
“I love you too,” I said, feeling a tenderness toward him that made my heart ache. But then I glanced back at the others, and said with a wry little smile, “But I’m scared I’ll boil alive in that body armor you want to stuff me into.”
He chuckled. “You could always stay in a nice, air-conditioned hotel room,” he suggested gently. I knew that was what he wanted—me safe, preferably back home. But he cared too much about my needs to try to push the issue.
I lifted my chin. “No. I have to face him. You’ve been clear about the risks. I’ll deal with the sweat and the weight.” And the violence. Because this wasn’t going to be a mere confrontation. It was going to be a siege.
“Very well. Then no more complaints about the body armor, my darling, or the men I’ll have watching your back. Charles wants you dead—and though he won’t expect you to show up with a small army, he’ll probably order his men to attack you the moment he gets over his shock.”
I scowled. “He can try. But I didn’t come here to die.”
He gave me a smile. “You trust me then?”
My scowl faded. “Always.”
The co-pilot emerged from the cockpit and inclined his head slightly as he addressed us. “We’ve gotten clearance to land.”
“All right. Here we go.”
The night air was thick with humidity, smoke, and pollution from the nearby city as we stepped off the plane. An SUV and two vans, all three with smoked windows, were waiting for us. I struggled to keep focused as we headed for the limo, but my stomach was in knots.
The driver was local. Viktor slipped him a thick envelope and he tore it open, spilling out several thick bundles of cash. He sat there thumbing through it for a maddeningly long time, then nodded and pulled out his phone. He called someone and spoke to them in Kreyol briefly, then waved his hand out the window. The limousine started up and left the airfield with the vans trailing after it.
Viktor helped me into my body armor and strapped my pistol on. Its weight was unfamiliar on my hip. We’d practiced together more than once, but I knew it was still a last resort for me. I was not going to be storming the gates. Viktor had professionals for that.
Viktor didn’t ask me again if I was sure. He didn’t tell me it was my last chance to go wait it out somewhere safe. Instead, he just spoke orders into his throat mic in Russian as we drove away from the airstrip.
On the way there, I caught a glimpse of the tent city Viktor had talked about through the SUV window. My eyes widened and I craned my neck to look as long as I could, and then shuddered. Those poor people. At least Viktor spreading some bribes around will help some of the locals. As will getting rid of Uncle Charles.
I decided right then and there that when we left this place, we wouldn’t bring anything with us unless Viktor deemed it was necessary. Not one scrap of food, not one tradeable item, not the property itself. Once we were done, we would leave it open for anyone who wanted to come in. Haiti didn’t need the burden of our ownership, any more than it needed an interloper like my uncle around. It had its own problems.
“What are you thinking about?” Viktor asked, having turned his attention back to me while I was staring at the tent city.
“We don’t belong here. Any more than my uncle does. I think we should just leave the place once we’re done here.”
“It’s a multi-million-dollar property he’s probably stuffed with all sorts of luxuries.”
“I know. But we have plenty of that at home. If your men like something, they can take it, and I’m taking back any pets. But there are people starving on his doorstep.”
He considered me for a few moments as we made our way up the forested hillside. “Fine,” he said finally. “Done. Though I want to take any computers and paperwork as well.”
I nodded. That made sense. Nothing that could trace back to us. Anything that could lead us to any more money that he’d squirreled away.
Haiti could have its land back, and everything Uncle Charles had put on it. But everything else he owned was mine. Mine and Viktor’s.