Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea

stranger and the other was Pavel Demidov, Nikitin's trusted bodyguard.
    Ilya was certain he was privy to the workings of the human trafficking ring, the one Nikitin had been careful to keep Ilya away from. This assignment was the one time that Ilya's reputation for protecting women and children had hindered him. Nikitin often sent him on errands, or just out of the room so he could talk to this man - Pavel Demidov.
    He had found his traitor.
    The man with Pavel started to turn, and Ilya threw the knife, spinning as he did so and yanking the gun from Eddie's hands to fire three rounds into Pavel's left eye. Both men dropped, and Pavel's gun hit the tile with a clamor. Ilya waited a heartbeat, listening, and then handed the gun back to Eddie. 'Make certain they're dead, but don't make a sound. And collect their weapons. We may need them. Get my knife, wipe it on his shirt and give it back to me.'
    He wasn't about to leave his weapon on scene, or risk leaving evidence if he could help it. He'd always been a ghost at a kill sight; he couldn't afford to let this one be any different.
    Eddie nodded and hastily bent over the bodies while Ilya made his way to the den. The door stood wide open as if in invitation. The room had obviously been checked and dismissed. A small gas fire lit it and threw flickering light over the deep wood panels. He moved around the desk toward the small closet. The door stood open there as well, several coats hanging. The closet was very narrow, barely allowing the hangers to fit between the back wall and the front.
    Ilya stepped inside and knocked in the prearranged pattern. The back wall was a false steel panel Ilya had designed to fit most standard hall closets. The one in this house by the front door had been too large, but the den unexpectedly had a smaller room which served their purposes perfectly. Staying behind that thin steel panel with its wooden front required endless patience, nerves of iron and the ability to stand for long periods of time.
    Ilya didn't hurry, although Eddie hissed a warning at him. He didn't want to make a sound as he stealthily pulled the false back away to reveal Nikitin and Brian flattened against the wall. Both men were soaked with sweat, and Nikitin held a gun, rock steady in his fist.
    'Let's go,' Ilya said softly. 'Stay close to the wall. Make no noise.'
    Nikitin indicated to Brian to follow Ilya to the door of the den. Brian was trembling almost uncontrollably, but he did as Ilya said, sliding one shoulder along the wall, maintaining contact and staying as close to the bodyguard as possible.
    At the door, Eddie handed Ilya the knife and dropped back to guard the rear. Ilya slid the knife into his boot and pulled his gun. There was no silencer on the barrel, so once he fired, he'd bring everyone down on them, and they were severely outnumbered. He hoped they'd make it out clean, but he needed the firepower just in case.
    He made his way back toward the kitchen. They'd have to go out the back to avoid the stairs, but no self-respecting assassination team would leave the back open as a means of retreat. They would be walking into their enemies' hands.
    He heard Brian gasp when he saw the carnage on the kitchen floor. Glancing back with a hand signal for silence, Ilya glimpsed Brian shoving his hand against his mouth, his stomach obviously rebelling.
    Nikitin put his hand on Brian's back. 'Don't look. Just follow Ilya out. You'll be all right,' he said encouragingly, his voice a whisper. 'Prakenskii is the best.'
    Ilya glanced at Brian's white face. Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead, but he kept moving, trying not to look at the blood and gore on the floor.
    Brian swallowed hard and nodded. He reached up and, for one moment, clasped Nikitin's hand. Ilya looked away, feeling he'd caught a sad, intimate moment that was too private for witnesses.
    He heard movement and held up his hand, signaling the others to stop. He continued forward, to the back door.
    Behind him, Brian crouched down against the counter, Nikitin blocked his body with his own, and Eddie placed himself in front of his boss. No one moved, no one breathed.

    Ilya listened for movement again, trying to get a sense of how many he was up against and where they were. Again he held his hand up to emphasize that no one move. He had to risk drawing fire in order to get positions. They couldn't wait; the rest of the team that had been searching upstairs in the house would be coming in behind