Chapter 8 - THE REVERSAL
"Answer One, Open Two."
The poker adage screamed in Elena’s mind. They had solved the mystery of Julian. They had found the traitor. But they had forgotten the wild card.
Valentina.
She looked ruined. Her crimson dress was torn, her blonde hair matted with sweat and dirt. But her eyes were lucid, burning with the manic desperation of a woman who had lost everything and had nothing left but revenge.
Silas stood in the center of the warehouse, watching the police drag his brother away. He was completely exposed. His back was turned to the shadows where Valentina stood.
She raised the pistol, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Elena didn't have a weapon. She didn't have a wooden knight to throw. She only had her voice.
"Silas, drop!" Elena screamed at the top of her lungs, grabbing Toby and shoving him flat against the concrete.
Silas didn't hesitate. He didn't look. He trusted her voice implicitly. He dropped to his knees just as a suppressed pfft sounded through the cavernous space.
A bullet whipped through the air where Silas’s neck had been a fraction of a second before, sparking violently against the steel pillar in front of him.
The SWAT officers spun around, weapons raised, shouting commands.
Valentina panicked. She fired blindly into the crowd of cops, screaming incoherently.
It was a fatal mistake.
The response was deafening. A dozen police rifles fired simultaneously. Valentina was thrown backward against the corrugated metal wall, sliding down to the floor, her crimson dress blooming with fresh, darker stains.
Silence descended on the warehouse again, heavier and colder than before.
Silas slowly stood up. He looked at Valentina’s lifeless body, then turned slowly toward Elena.
Elena was shaking violently, clutching Toby to her chest. Toby had his face buried in her neck, whimpering softly.
Silas walked over to them. The SWAT commander, a grizzled man with gray hair, stepped up beside him.
"It’s done, Vance," the commander said quietly. "We have Julian. We have the Russians outside. Your tip was good. The shipping routes are secured."
"The ledger," Silas said, extending his hand toward Elena.
Elena looked up at him. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the tiny silver SD card, and placed it in Silas’s palm.
Silas didn't keep it. He handed it directly to the police commander.
"Everything you need to dismantle the Bratva’s port operations is on that card," Silas said. "As agreed."
Elena gasped. "You… you made a deal with the cops?"
Silas looked down at her, his dark eyes softening. "I told you I would tear this city down to the bedrock to get your son back. The only way to permanently protect you and Toby was to burn the game to the ground."
He knelt down on the cold concrete, bringing himself to eye level with Elena and the terrified six-year-old boy.
"Toby," Silas said softly.
Toby peeked out from his mother’s neck, his wide, tear-filled eyes looking at the giant man with the dark suit.
Silas reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the small, carved wooden knight that Elena had thrown at Julian. It was chipped on the top, but intact.
He held it out to the boy.
"This belongs to you now," Silas said gently. "It’s a magic knight. It protects people who are brave. And you were very, very brave today."
Toby hesitantly reached out a small, trembling hand and took the wooden knight. He looked at it, then looked at Silas. "Thank you, mister."
Silas smiled. It was a real smile, reaching his eyes, banishing the shadows that had lived there for years.
He looked at Elena. "Let’s go home."
They walked out of the warehouse as the sun broke over the horizon, painting the smoggy city sky in brilliant streaks of gold and pink. The nightmare was over.
But as they approached the armored SUV, Victor was standing by the open door. He looked at Silas, his face unreadable.
"The police are cleaning up," Victor said, his voice flat. "Julian is in custody. Valentina is dead. The Bratva is crippled."
"You did good today, Victor," Silas said, clapping a hand on his underboss’s shoulder.
"I did what I had to do," Victor said. He looked at Elena, then back to Silas. "But there’s one problem, Boss."
"What’s that?" Silas asked, tiredly.
Victor slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket. "Valentina was my little sister, Silas. She was stupid, and she was greedy. But she was my blood."
Elena’s blood ran cold. She saw the micro-expression. The double tap of Victor’s index finger against his thumb.
Victor drew a heavy, silver revolver from his waistband and pressed the barrel directly against Silas’s chest.
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"Answer One, Open Two," Victor whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "You shouldn't have let them kill her."
Victor pulled the trigger.
