Kiss Of Death: A Dark Mafia Romance

Una

Humid heat clings to my skin, wrapping around me as Sasha and I make our way to the car. He gets in the driver’s side and I hop in beside him. Three Elite climb in the back with rifles in hand. The sun is just starting to drop below the ragged horizon of Juarez in the distance. The address we’re going to is Rafael’s mansion, a few miles outside of the city.

Nicholai insisted that we land and go straight in before anyone could get word of our presence to the cartel. The city is a mess of graffiti-covered buildings, pothole filled roads, and general disarray. This is cartel country, where the daily number of murders is higher than some countries have in a year. These streets may look like a city of people going about their business, but it’s a war zone with the cartels continuously fighting for ground.

Our convoy of cars winds through the streets that lead out of the city, dropping into a valley that runs between the ragged dusty hills of the Mexican countryside. We come to a stop on a dirt road about a mile from Rafael’s main gate. We get out and go to the back of the car, arming ourselves with weapons. Sasha’s gaze meets mine and he gives me the tiniest nod.

Altogether we have twenty Elite, which is more than I hoped Nicholai would bring, but I’ll roll with the punches. Nicholai gets out of the car behind ours, his suit no less appropriate for the dusty desert of Mexico than it is the icy expanse of Russia. He glances around his assembled soldiers, all clad in black and armed to the teeth. “Your mission is to go into the compound and retrieve the child. Kill everyone.” Cold eyes meet mine, and I know he’s making a point, because everyone includes Anna. “Do not fail me,” he says without looking away from me.

We turn and start jogging towards the compound. Sasha and I are running point. The rest of the soldiers follow us. The sun beats down on us and sweat trickles down my back as we make our way up to the villa. As soon as we near the perimeter fence, we take cover behind a small rise of earth.

“Guards,” Sasha says to me.

One of the others hands me a made-up rifle and I pull the stand down, resting it on the top of the ridge. Staring down the sights, I line up both guards, focusing the crosshair just to the left of the first guy’s shoulder. I have to be accurate here. Deep breath in, hold, squeeze—squeeze. Two shots fire off in quick succession and both guards go down. The shots have more cartel soldiers rushing towards the gates, and I fire at them too, watching them drop one by one.

“Move,” I shout. Sasha leads the band of Elite to the front gate, breaching the compound. This is where it gets complicated. “You two,” I signal to two of the Elite. “With me.” Sasha nods as he continues on with the rest of the group. I take the two and split off, moving through the house until I find the stairway that leads to the first floor. Reaching in my front pocket, I quickly screw a silencer onto my gun. My senses attune to the two men walking behind me; every muted footfall, every drawn breath. We reach the top of the stairs and walk down the hall, passing a couch scattered with cushions. I whirl around, yanking the knife from my thigh holster and throwing it at the same time as I grab one of the cushions, shoving it against the face of the guy on the left. I knock him off balance just enough that he staggers to the wall. I spot the flash of steel and bow my body away from him just as I press the gun against the cushion and pull the trigger. A muted pop sounds. The tip of the knife nicks across the skin of my stomach before his body falls to the floor. I sigh at the blood seeping through my tank top and before retrieving my knife from the other guy’s skull.

Following Rafael’s instructions, I find the last door at the end of the hall. Rafael’s office. He’s not here, but the windows have a full view all around the compound. My mission right now is simple: remove the Elite and clear the compound. I tried to persuade Sasha to turn them, bring them to our side, but it was too risky. We couldn’t let anyone know that we weren’t with Nicholai. Elite loyalties run deep where he’s concerned.

I glance out each of the windows until I spot the group of four Elite crossing the courtyard, guns raised. Resting my rifle on the windowsill, I line up the shot. All four of them are down within two seconds. All that training, all those years of fighting, and they didn’t even have the dignity of a decent death. They died as they lived, as cannon fodder for a mad man. Six down. Fourteen more to go.