Under Control: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance
Under Control: Chapter 36

The logistics of the exchange are worked out over several phone calls and a dozen meetings with my closest advisors. Anton takes it over personally, and he comes up with the idea of gutting a delivery van and turning the interior into a makeshift ambulance. That way, depending on Miriam’s condition, she can be transported to wherever she needs to go.

“I want to come with you,” Karine says on the morning we’re set to leave. Arsen’s dragged from the basement, tied, bound, and gagged. He doesn’t seem particularly upset about the whole process and doesn’t fight.

“I know you do,” I say, and gently touch her face. She leans into me, eyes wet with tears and worry. I lean down and kiss her. “But I can’t afford a distraction.”

“I’ll stay in the van with the doctor.”

“And I’ll still worry. The answer is no, and I will not change my mind.”

For a moment, I think she’ll argue, because she doesn’t like being told she can’t do something, but she relents with a tired nod. I love her fighting spirit, but I also need her to know when to obey orders, especially when they’re for her own good.

The drive out to that lonely Starbucks in that quiet suburban town is tense. I’m up front in a black, bullet-and-bomb-proof SUV with Arsen and Anton. Several more vehicles drive behind us, and the van that will transport Miriam brings up the rear. That will stay out of the way until the final moment, just to make sure that the doctor is not in any more danger than necessary. Though he’s getting paid plenty for the risk.

Arsen seems like he’s in a good mood. I take the gag off once we’re on the road and he thanks me almost politely. After that, he stares out the window and watches the landscape flash past.

“You should know something about my father,” he says once we arrive and get into position. Aram’s people are already waiting, and they have their own makeshift van in which I assume they’re keeping Miriam.

“What’s that?” I ask, already trying to focus on what’s about to happen.

“He’s a vicious piece of shit and he doesn’t love his sons.” Arsen beams at me happily. “I think we’re all about to die.”

That is deeply fucking unnerving. I brush him off though and assume the boy’s being ridiculous. From what I can tell, it looks like a normal exchange. There aren’t any easy vantage points for an ambush, only the roof of the Starbucks which we’re currently surveilling with a small drone just to make sure it’s clear plus the shopping center on the far end of the parking lot. That’s far enough that only very skilled snipers would do any damage.

Once I get the clear that the roof is empty, I push Arsen out the door. I don’t like this, not even a little fucking bit, but I have to play my part if I’m going to get Karine’s mother back. Once I’m walking toward the center area, my soldiers fan out behind me. All of them are armed and ready.

Nothing happens. I keep expecting Aram to appear at any moment, but the trucks arrayed in front of me are totally silent. Their windows are tinted black enough that I can’t see anyone inside, and a strange, creeping feeling runs down my spine.

“What’s going on?” I bark at Anton.

He checks his phone. “I don’t know. Drone operator said we’re all clear. He said⁠—”

The van’s engine suddenly starts. It roars to life and I exchange a look with my friend. He seems as confused as I am.

“Stay ready,” I tell him, grabbing Arsen’s arm. I push the boy forward, and he doesn’t seem happy anymore. “Aram! I have your son! Come out and be done with this fucking exchange.”

Still nothing. Only the rumble of the van’s engine.

“Valentin,” Anton says, his voice taking on a panicked note. “Drone guy just texted me. He says there’s something weird on the roof of the van.”

“What the fuck is it?”

“A transmitter of some kind. I don’t really know⁠—”

Then the van leaps forward. Its engine roars as it barrels at us, and I barely have enough time to throw Arsen out of the way and dive after him.

I hit the ground hard as the explosion rips through the morning.

The van shatters into a flaming husk and throws piercing, killing shrapnel all through the air. I hear it whizzing past my ears as I lay covering my head on the ground, and the screams of my men are only just audible over the conflagration of fire that rips through my vehicles. Only my SUV looks unharmed, while the others are either wreckage or beginning to burn.

I stay down for a stunned moment. Aram is a psycho motherfucker, but I never in a million years expected he would risk his own son’s life to kill me. If I had been back with my men instead of standing in front of them waiting to do the deal, I’d be dead right now, like so many of them.

“Anton!” I shout, crawling to my knees. A few feet away, Arsen struggles up, and he begins to run back toward the Armenian lines. I draw my gun and consider killing him, but fuck, there are too many screams and yells from my soldiers, and the boy doesn’t matter.

This was fucked.

I stagger over to where Anton is lying on the ground. He’s bleeding from several small wounds to his side, but none of them look fatal. “I’m good,” he says and shoves me back as he gets to his feet. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Help who you can,” I shout and turn to face the line of trucks. One of them is pulling out and I try to shoot its wheels, but I only manage to hit the door before it escapes, the tires spinning. Anton barely gets a few of his men up and ready when the other trucks spill out their soldiers.

For a beat, I think we’re dead. Rifles are leveled at us, and we’re sitting out in the open with flaming vehicles at our back. Thick plumes of smoke billow into the sky, and there’s nowhere to run, no fucking cover, nothing to do but die. I raise my gun defiantly, because I’ll go down fighting if I have to go down at all, but regret stuns me.

I failed Karine. I failed her, and now I’ll go to my final judgment alone, knowing I wasn’t enough, without ever getting another chance to make things right.

But before the Armenians can open fire, the drones come buzzing down at them.

Four drones, each no bigger than a medium-sized dog, gray against the light blue sky. There’s some hesitation as the Armenians stare at the little flying armada, and that’s all we need.

The drones click and drop their payload.

Grenades hit the ground at their feet and explode. They’re not huge detonations—the drones aren’t big enough to carry serious munitions—but big enough that it knocks several of them over and tears a few limbs from bodies.

And it allows me the distraction I needed to start shooting.

Once I open up, my men follow, at least what’s left of them. The ten Armenians are completely knocked off balance, and soon they begin falling back behind their vehicles. Three of them are dead, plus another four more are shot, and I order my men to keep up a steady stream of fire as I start evacuating them into the cars. Only three Armenians are left in fighting condition, and they’re too outgunned and frightened to do much more than take potshots as we get as many of our men into the working vehicles as we can.

“That piece of shit,” I growl as I slam my foot down on the accelerator. I ram forward, smash through the line of Armenian trucks, and clip one of their surviving soldiers on the way. “How many are down?”

“Four,” Anton answers. “Three more are wounded.”

“We need to fucking drive for five minutes, then we’ll transfer the hurt men into the van. Call back to the doctor and tell him what to do.”

Anton barks my orders into his phone, directing this mess of a prisoner exchange, while my hands grip the steering wheel.

I’m lucky to be alive. I know that, but I’m still livid with rage.

Aram betrayed me. He risked his own son’s life to do it. Never in a million years did I think that bastard had it in him, and I was so fucking wrong.

If I hadn’t brought the drones, we’d all be finished right now.

“Valentin, what are we going to do?” Anton asks, sounding shaken at last, as the adrenaline begins to burn off.

My jaw sets. I feel a flutter of rage pass through me again.

I failed her. Arsen got away, and Miriam is still under Armenian control. Karine is going to be heartbroken, and I don’t know how to make it better.

But I’m alive, and that means I’m going to keep fighting.

“We kill them,” I tell him as a brutal and vicious determination washes over me. “We hit the streets and we kill them.”