Maximus (Guardian Security Shadow World #15)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

M ax watched Elena and Val leave the venue. Sokolov watched them but didn’t follow. Max looked at his watch and spoke lowly. “Smith?”

“I’m here with Reaper.” The reply came over the comms. “Malice?”

“Two seconds,” Malice said. “Okay, all set. Driver’s down. The key fob is in the driver’s seat.”

“Copy,” Reaper said.

Max glanced at his watch again. Everything was going as planned. “I’m bringing him in.” Max turned and made his way to Abrasha. He waited as the man pontificated about his acquisition of the Matisse, which was displayed perfectly. He reached down, clicked the crown of his watch, and waited.

Abrasha turned to him and smiled. “Is it time?”

“Indeed,” Max said.

The people he spoke to moved away, and Abrasha’s bodyguards moved closer—three now. He caught Sokolov answering his phone, and the man’s head popped up. He looked over at Abrasha and headed in their direction. Max pointed to the exit. “This way, sir.”

Sokolov rushed up to them. “Sir, a moment.”

“I’m busy.” Abrasha dismissed Sokolov.

“Sir, the vault. The fire alarm inside has activated,” Sokolov hissed.

“Find Elena and get back there,” Abrasha barked. “Take enough men to make sure my art is protected.”

“Yes, sir.” Sokolov barked out names, and five men charged toward the door, leaving two with Abrasha.

Max put his hand to his mouth. “Do you wish to delay this meeting, sir? Your art in Sochi …” He let his hand flutter about.

Abrasha gave him a dismissive look and scathed, “It is being cared for and insured. If the prince is here, I will meet him.”

“If you insist,” Max said timidly.

“I do,” Abrasha spat at him.

“Please follow me.” Max led him into the hallway with the two guards at their heels. Max turned at the door. “Sir, if your men could wait here outside the door. There’s only one way in and one way out, as I’m sure they are aware.”

Abrasha looked at the men, then at Max. His left eye twitched, but he nodded his head. He turned to his guards. “Any sound out of the ordinary, and you’re inside,” he ordered.

Max opened the door and entered with Abrasha. A man in a white thawb stood in the corner facing the room.

The doors shut behind them, and Max’s knife pushed against Abrasha’s back. “One loud word, and you’re dead.”

The prince turned around. Abrasha paled. “Is this a joke?” he whispered as Smith disrobed.

“Indeed, it is not,” Smith said, his voice almost a perfect replica of Abrasha’s. What was perfect was the makeup that aged Smith to look exactly like his father.

“Who are you?” Abrasha’s voice rose slightly, and Max shoved the knife a bit, causing the man to hiss.

“I’m your bastard.” Smith walked up to Abrasha and looked at him as he took the robes off. He was wearing what Abrasha was wearing. Smith reached out and plucked the trifolded handkerchief from Abrasha’s pocket. “I never learned how to do a trifold.” Smith put the folded fabric into his pocket. “Never had a father who gave a shit.”

Abrasha’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

Smith snorted. “From you. Nothing.” He put a bit of gravel in his voice, mimicking Abrasha’s voice.

Reaper took the robes from Smith and handed them to Abrasha. “Put them on.”

“What? Why?”

Max pushed the knife and felt it hit resistance. It had to have gone through the expensive jacket Abrasha was wearing. “If you want to live, put the fucking robes on.”

Reaper lifted a handgun and pushed it against Abrasha’s head. “I don’t have the time or patience to tell you again.”

Abrasha put on the robes, and Max reached into his pocket. He stuck the syringe into Abrasha and pushed the plunger.

Reaper holstered his weapon and bent over, taking Abrasha’s weight over his shoulder. “Smith, you’re up.”

“Remember, Malice has your back.”

“I’ll be fine.” Smith adjusted his sleeves under his jacket.

“Listen to them, Smith,” Val growled.

“Are you safe?”

“We are,” Val said. “Sokolov was looking for us but hasn’t come into the forest. The blind is doing its job, and we’re ready for pickup.”

“Copy. Go.” He nodded at Smith, who hunched over just a bit and walked out of the room. Instead of going to the venue, Smith turned toward the main lobby. The guards hurried after him. Max peeked into the hallway, waiting for Smith to take the guards.

“Let’s go.” Max led Reaper around the other corner and out the door toward the parking lot. He opened the back of the white van that was parked there early that afternoon and checked several times by staff security. Reaper flopped Abrasha into the back, then shut the door as Max dashed around to the driver’s seat. Reaper sprinted across the parking lot toward the front of the hotel, where Smith would be waiting for Abrasha’s car. Only the driver would be Reaper.

Max started the van and turned on the lights. He glanced at his watch and then put the vehicle into the drive as the first set of explosives blew. He floored the accelerator and zipped past the lodge's entryway.

Abrasha’s guards had their weapons out as Reaper pulled up right after Max. Max kept his eyes glued to the rearview as the guards pushed Smith into the car, and Reaper floored it out of the parking lot. Reaper turned left to pick up Val and Elena while Max continued straight for about a half mile before pulling into a wooded gravel road. He turned off the lights and the van before stepping out, taking off his tux, and shoving it into a bag before tossing the bag into the back of the van. From under the seat, he pulled out two packages. He took the thinnest and ripped it open.

Inside were overalls, socks, three pairs of gloves, and a t-shirt. He reached between the seats and pulled out a pair of boots, stomping into them before he gathered the second package and waited. It didn’t take long before Malice ran through the opening and threw open the back of the van. His sniper’s rifle was huge and heavy. Max watched as he pushed Abrasha out of the way and started disassembling the weapon before he put it into its case and then stripped out of his black clothing and put on the casual athletic attire waiting for him in the back of the van. He shut the back doors and walked to the driver’s door. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Maximus was more than ready. He went to the passenger side of the van and got in. Malice put the vehicle into reverse, and they were soon on the main road heading to the top of the mountain. They pulled up to the clearing Max had chosen, and Max tugged Abrasha out of the back of the van. He shut the doors and knocked twice on the van, and Malice drove away. Max watched the taillights until he couldn’t see them anymore. Then he glanced down at the man at his feet. It was time for Abrasha Molchalin to pay for the evil he’d done. Max pulled the comm device out of his ear and placed it with the package holding his clean clothes.

Abrasha woke up with a jerk. Max leaned against a tree and watched as he tried to orient himself.

He noticed the position he was in and jerked at the ropes holding him. “Where are my clothes?” He looked around. “You! You pathetic little weasel. You’ll get no ransom from my people!”

Max chuckled and walked closer. In English, he said, “This isn’t a ransom situation, Abrasha. This is an execution.”

The man stopped jerking at the ropes. “What?”

“You’ve been tried and convicted for your crimes against humanity. The Council has decreed a death sentence for you. I am your executioner.”

“I can make you wealthier than anyone else on the planet.” Abrasha laughed. “You’d never have to worry about money again.”

“I don’t worry about money now.” Max sat on the ground where Abrasha was tied belly down and strapped to two trees, keeping him in line.

“Who are you?” Abrasha’s breathing sped up as he realized his situation.

“Today, I’m your executioner. Yesterday, I was an art dealer; before that, a computer specialist.” Max sighed. “I made a study of the Vikings once. They were sadistic bastards, not only to their enemies but to other Vikings who’d lost their honor.”

“I don’t give a fuck about Vikings. Who are you?” Abrasha’s spittle flew out and hung from his lips in a strand.

Max continued. “See, the Vikings had three particularly savage ways to eliminate those without honor. One is something they called hung meat. Basically, the Vikings cut a hole in your heels, run a rope through the holes, and then string you up. Upside down, all your blood will rush to your heart, and you will die. It is a slow, torturous way to go. But that isn’t for you. The second method they favored was the death walk. I seriously considered this method. I would make a small incision in your gut, pull out a section of your intestine, and force you to walk around a tree until you are tied there with your guts. Savage and, again, a very slow way to die.”

“Who are you!” Abrasha screamed.

Max ignored the man and continued, “But, for you, I think the Blood Eagle is the way to go.”

Abrasha froze, and tears started to form in his eyes. “Who are you?” he whispered. “Don’t do this. I can pay.”

“I don’t need money. Did you give any choice to the thousands you’ve had killed? To the children you’ve put into prostitution? To the people who’ve died because of your guns or drugs? What about your attempt to take over an entire country or explode dirty bombs in the earth’s atmosphere to disrupt electronics and start World War III? You’d think you’d get the message that we wouldn’t let you continue to be a threat to humanity.”

“Tell me who you are!” Abrasha screamed.

Max looked at him. “I am a Shadow. I am the darkness you tried to emulate.”

“A Shadow? They don’t exist. They’re a myth!” Abrasha laughed hysterically. “All right. The fun is over. Release me now, and I won’t have you and your family killed.”

Max reached over to a large crate and withdrew a knife and a short staff with a hook on the bottom. It would sever the man’s ribs at the cartilage connection. “I am a Shadow. I am the Shadow who will send the message to your associates and the other monsters of the world that Guardian will never tolerate the abuse of those who cannot defend themselves.”

“You can’t be a Shadow,” Abrasha cried out, jerking at the ropes holding him.

“I am, at least for this last mission. I am also the man who decided to let you die quickly. You see, shock will take you before I sever your rib cage from your spine or extract your lungs to let them flap outside of your chest cavity. If you have any prayers, now is the time.” Max wouldn’t deny anyone the chance to make right their afterlife.

“Fuck you!” Molchalin spat out.

Max stood up. “Abrasha Molchalin, you were supposed to be untouchable. You taunted the world with your despicable crimes. The world answered and found you guilty.”

Abrasha’s scream rang through the Caucasus Mountains.