Mavra Volkov had once heard a man say "God created men, and Sam Colt made them equal"; he'd killed that man with his bare hands, just to make the point abundantly clear: when it came to killing, Mavra Volkov had no equal. 

It was a funny thing- the confidence that a man received from carrying a gun. The truly wise stayed as alert as ever, knowing that their gun was simply a weapon. But for most men, their gun was the equivalent of the blanket they'd clutched as a baby: something to make them feel safe. For them, the gun was often about as useful as the blanket in a fight against a true professional.

And bodyguards? Having even one walking at your side gave a man an aura of invincibility. Pietro Salviani looked like a king considering the world from the safety of his castle as he strolled through Palermo, gun and bodyguard at his side. Neither of the targets noted the handsome man in the grey suit flip his magazine shut, adjust his sunglasses, and begin following them. 

If he was a betting man- and he was not- Volkov would have wagered that the bodyguard never felt the slightest bit of alarm as the strong hands gripped him and broke his neck. But Pietro? He had fear for just a moment as Volkov's fist expertly found his throat. Unable to yell and struggling to breath, Salviani felt strong hands grip him and prevent him from signalling for help. Seventeen seconds later, as planned, Salviani was gasping for breath in a taxi, looking down at the gun that Volkov had pointed at him. 

Salviani's attacker was slightly over six feet tall; his dark hair, athletic build and strong jaw made him handsome, but the absence of any warmth in his eyes or face chilled Salviani to the bone. When the attacker did speak, it was with a Russian accent.

"English?"

Salviani nodded.

"Good," spat Volkov, as he removed his sunglasses, keeping his eye on his target as he did so. "I know who you are, Pietro Salviani. And I know who you work for."

"Then you know you are making a mistake," gasped the middle aged Italian, still struggling to breath and speak normally. Hearing this, Volkov shook his head. 

Volkov, with a clarity and briskness of speech, was quick to reply, "I have no use for drawn out negotiations. We will be direct, and you will not waste my time. While you have worked for Tara Byrne for almost two decades and you are loyal to her, you are much more loyal to your wife and children. I have visited your house outside Palermo- the silver one with the blue doors. You will give me what I want, and in return I will refrain from killing them. If you do not cooperate, I will kill them. If you waste my time and refuse to cooperate, I will kill them and make you watch. I know you well, Pietro, and while this may sadden you, there is no doubt what decision you will make. You will make a phone call for me?"

Pietro stared for a moment in confusion, terror, and finally resignation. He nodded.

"Good," Volkov barked a direction in Russian at the driver, who pulled over within a minute. Parking the car, the two Russian men led Salviani up a slight of stars to an empty apartment with a phone and a peace of paper sitting on an otherwise empty desk.

"You will read the script precisely,", commanded Volkov, "but you should focus on your overall objective. Have the guards sent to Palermo. If you do that, your family will survive this. You know who I am, and you know that I keep my promises."

Salviani nodded and picked up the phone. He dialed the private number with a shaking finger, noticing the loud noises from an added speaker; this phone was modified so that anyone standing next to him could hear both sides of the call. With a shaking hand, he lifted the paper.

"Stella, it's Pietro. We have an emergency. Code orange for now, but it might escalate to red tonight. I need all the guards you can send me. Have them meet in my compound."

"What can you tell me?", interrupted an older woman's voice from the phone. 

Silvio glanced down at the paper before answering, "It's Volkov. You remember the warning that Tara gave us about her agents being removed? I've received word that he is due in Palermo this evening, and I have the opportunity to ambush him. After his massacre in Romania, I don't want to leave anything to chance."

"Of course, Pietro", answered Stella calmly, "you'll have everyone I can spare. I'll keep only my personal detail here with me."

Volkov motioned with his finger to wrap things up.

Pietro closed his eyes and looked pained, "Thank you, Stella. I need to go now."

"I'll organize everyone and send them over. Call me with an update when you can."

Pietro Salviani had intended on answering, but Volkov had already hung up the phone. Calmly, he removed his gun and shot Salviani in the face. As the middle aged man dropped to the floor, Volkov shot him three more times to ensure the deed was done. His ears ringing, he exited the office and closed the soundproofed door behind him. He had an appointment, and he had no intention of running late. 

Stella DiVasio was one of the linchpins of the Byrne Empire. What had started on the dockyards of Philadelphia had grown to encompass the world. Just like any empire, it was built through treachery and brutality. As Volkov considered what the Byrnes had accomplished, he had to admit he felt a certain admiration. Through Race Street, they'd taken over South Philadelphia and expanded their influence throughout the United States. And the initial forays into the international game that had been started during Tara Byrne's days as the Godmother of South Philadelphia had crystallized when she retired to Europe. 

The entire Byrne family had an annoying habit of animal nicknames. The Wolf. The Dragon. The Lioness. They were, perhaps, too polite to acknowledge what Tara was: The Spider. She'd spun her webs in dozens of European cities, planted more agents in valuable information gathering roles in six months than most people did in a career, and soon became one of the most wanted criminals in Europe for her activities as an information broker. She wasn't perfect, but she was aggravatingly close to it; if something noteworthy happened in Europe or the States, there were decent odds that Tara Byrne had some dirt on it. 

Her agents were skilled, but they weren't as smart or as careful as Tara. They didn't have to be. The web had already been spun for them; all they had to do was pass the flies up the chain of command. Most agents operated independently of each other; if one agent was discovered, there was no risk to any of the others. 

But Stella DiVasio was different. Decades ago, she'd romanced Gavin Byrne before becoming a close friend and confidant of both him and his sister. Even Tara Byrne couldn't managed every single agent individually, so she'd set up a handful of trusted lieutenants in various geographic locations. London. Paris. Madrid. Geneva. Istanbul. Bucharest. Moscow.

Moscow was the start of it all. He'd dismantled her entire network in four months, killing agents faster than she could replace them. She got so desparate for information about him that he'd even managed to plant a couple people in her organization. One of them had been killed immediately, but the other still lived. 

Stella DiVasio oversaw Sicily, Italy, and the Western Mediterranean; she would be the second lieutenant that he would add to his list. Her personal connections to the Byrnes only made it sweeter.

He moved like a shadow through one of her orchards, crouched low to avoid detection. The compound had gone dark; normally, at least a dozen guards would be present. But tonight? A skeleton crew. The two men walking around Stella's house never saw him coming; if they'd walked together, they could have been a slight challenge. Since they walked alone, they died alone and never saw the knife slicing open their throats. 

Before entering the house, he cut the power. The guard who came to check on the power line had his gun out as he walked outside cautiously, but he never looked up. They never did. Volkov released his hold on the flagpole and dropped down, stabbing the knife into the man's head as he landed, severing the brain stem. By the time he entered the house, it was silent and dark. Crouching, with a knife in one hand and a gun in the other, he moved through the house- pausing only when he heard a window open. Volkov tensed, but he couldn't hear anything else. In the next three minutes, he made his way to Stella's location: her study. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he saw the outline of her sitting in her chair with the open window behind her. He decided to-

Volkov heard the motion of a hand moving through the air and the soft grunt of a man swinging with his full strength; he ducked back with preternatural reflexes and stuck his knife where he presumed the attacker's chest would be. It was. Silently completing the kill, Volkov moved into the room like the predator he was. 

Stella's voice rang out in the dark room.

"Volkov, I presume?"

The Russian smirked, "Who else?" He kept moving, sliding around to get behind her. 

"You are a fool. And you are too late."

During their exchange, Volkov had his gun pointed at Stella- but he intended to slip around her and end her with his knife. 

"Explain."

"Which?"

"Both."

"You are a fool to declare war against the Byrnes. They've dealt with the likes of you before."

"No one has dealt with the like of me before."

"Why do this? Who hired you?"

"No one hired me,"

"Then why do you-"

"What did you mean, that I was too late?"

He could practically hear the smug smirk in her speech.

"I sent a message to Tara Byrne warning about you; they jumped on their bike shortly after you entered the house. On the path they're going... no one will catch them now."

Volkov fumed as he stalked behind Stella. The old woman's hands were buried in her blanket, and the papers on her desk were scattering in the wind. The old bitch had no reason to lie. He grabbed her hair with one hand and held the knife to her throat.

"You will die for your foolish allegiance, Stella DiVasio."

"You are correct, Volkov. But not alone."

Volkov was only saved by the moonlight; he saw it glinting off the metal of the gun on her lap as she removed it from the blanket. He quickly slit Stella's throat, but was forced to dodge as he did so.

Stella had her gun pointed behind her; knowing her fate, she shot three times through her own body and her chair to try to kill her assassin and protect those she loved. 

For a moment, the room was silent and she believed she'd succeeding in killing Volkov. Then, she heard his heavy, labored breathing. She tried to aim the gun again, but it was too heavy.

As the knife pierced her heart, she thanked God that her children were away. She contentedly laid down a life well lived. And she prayed that the Byrnes could handle Mavra Volkov, the man who had become their deadliest enemy.

"Dad never went to college. And look what he-"

"Your father couldn't read until he was in his thirties. And, somehow, I don't see you following a similar career path." Tara did her best to repeatedly shut down the arguments of her nephew, but arguing with William Byrne was exhausting. Still, she had near limitless patience for him. Will was the son of her brother Gavin and his wife Bella, now deceased, and the namesake of the only man she'd ever truly loved outside of her family, William Bowden. 

"But Aunt Tara, I can't just leave Aurora and Dad to-"

"This is what they want for you, Will. It's what I want for you. And it's what you want for yourself; you told me so just a few weeks ago. I know it's happening fast for you, but this is the right move. Going to a school like Harvard and getting an education is nice, but it's the connections that will serve you best there- and someone showing up halfway through Freshman year isn't going to make the same impact."

He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Scowling, he crossed his arms. Tara stood up and patted his shoulder; soon, he took his leave from her. Sighing, she studied her reflection in the window. Older. Wiser. Rounder. Father Time was a son of a bitch. Still... she was proud of all she'd accomplished- all that her family had accomplished.

There was a knock on the door and she was glad for it; it was better not to get lost in thoughts of Bella. Her assistant, Francis, quickly approached her and Tara knew from his face that something was wrong. They rapidly conversed in French.

"Stella DiVasio is dead. It was Volkov."

"What happened?"

"He killed Salviani, our man in Palermo, and used him to lower Stella's defenses."

"How do we know all this?"

"A note, from Stella."

"Show me. Now."

Tara read it twice before tossing it back on the table.

Tara,

Volkov comes for you. It is personal. Warn your family. I will try to end him here.

Love to you, Gavin, and the kids.

Stella

Tara noted the handwriting; Stella had scribbled this down at the last moment. She read the note again and remained quiet for a long time.

"What else did you find?"

"Stella hurt him. We think she shot him; well, one expert says she shot him through herself and the chair."

A formidable end to a formidable woman. Tara allowed herself to grieve for a moment. When she opened her eyes, there was a fire behind them.

"This ends now. Two weeks ago, I'd made Volkov our number one priority. As of now, he's our only priority. Get everyone on this. And get me eyes in Russia. He wiped them for a reason. There has to be something there. And kill the news about Stella's death. It could be a trap designed to lure us out of hiding. Arrange a private funeral for her family and friends, but make sure no word gets Stateside through any means necessary. If Gavin, especially, hears that someone killed her then he'll go charging into a trap."

Dismissing her assistant, Tara leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes again. Her good memories of Stella were overpowered by the drumbeat of the two questions that had slowly begun devouring her life.

Who the fuck was Mavra Volkov? And why was he doing this?

Two Months Later

Tara Byrne no longer had a home; in fact, she hadn't had one for decades. As she crisscrossed Europe and the Atlantic, she never stayed one place for long. Her plane was the closest thing to home- and of course she had an office on it. It was the only place where she felt like she could see the big picture. 

Today, that big picture was chilling. 

The giant maps of Europe and the United States behind her usually had collections of information, generally in the form of notecards with essential personnel and latest updates. Her agents and their areas of influence were marked by green thumbtacks and green coloring on the map. At one point, her map of Europe had been almost entirely green, stretching from Portugal to Russia. Now, the read covering that had begun in Moscow stretched throughout the entire map, with the sole exception of London. 

Tara looked down at the report in her hand, detailing how her lieutenant in London had been killed by a knife thrown through his eye socket.

She shook her head and closed her eyes.

"Francis. Tell the pilot to head to Vegas. Before we take off, call Aurora. Tell her what hangar I'll be at. She can meet me on-board when I arrive."

Aurora had gotten the call while Billy was out which meant the best she could do was send his secretary Rebecca looking for him.  The baby was napping.  Tara had her people call before she'd taken off and Aurora had done her best to prepare for either a nice short visit or a prolonged one that might even take until sometime after dark to come to a completion.  Aunt Tara, if it was important, could out talk even her late mother after all.  Oscar's wife Betty was going to help with little Gav and Brigitte while they were out and so that meant the only thing was left to do.

Aurora knocked on the door of the guest house, calling out loudly,  "Dad?"

A moment later a simply dressed Gavin, now wearing the start of a respectable salty beard, opened the door.

"Get your things.  We're meeting Aunt Tara at the airport.  She's landing in about thirty minutes.  I sent someone to find Billy.  Before you ask... no.  I got no clue what the hell this is about, but I presume it's not to discuss Will's acceptance to Harvard or to visit the baby - she didn't call personally... it was one of her guys."

Aurora started back towards the garage.  "I gotta get my stuff."  She called over her shoulder.  "Betty's got the kids."  

It took all of five minutes, mostly because Brigitte had to show Grandpa a new drawing she'd made, another sly urging for the dog she so badly wanted.  Then, after that, they were in the car and on their way to the airport.  Whatever was bringing Tara to town, Aurora was sure she and her Dad could handle it.  Billy would catch up when he could.  

Tara watched as the car pulled up to the hangar and she smirked as Gavin and Aurora emerged simultaneously. Tara greeted them both with hugs and muted smiles before her assistant approached.

"Gavin. Aurora. So good to see you. I'm afraid you're here on business. We'll have a drink and talk in half an hour or so. Gavin, you know more about guns than anyone else I know. I have a few models for you to try; I believe one of my manufacturers is cheating me, but I can't figure out quite how... Francis, could you take him to the gun locker and have him try to them all."

Gavin raised an eyebrow, glancing between Tara and Aurora. He simply nodded and left. Tara sighed.

"Aurora, was my assistant unclear? I'd asked for you to meet me here. I was, of course, going to see your father later... but the perceptive old goat knows that I just invented something for him to do so I could talk to you alone. If he asks, tell him it's all about baby stuff."

She walked up the stairs and spoke to the guard at the top.

"Don't let anyone in until we walk out. If there's an issue, call me."

When they reached her office, Tara forced a strained smile for her niece.

"Although even that wouldn't be a lie. It's what I'd like to talk to you about now. How is little Gav? Good? Good. I am... very sorry to pull you away from him like this, to pull any mother away from her newborn. It's the last thing I'd want to do- but I think you know I wouldn't do it lightly."

Tara gestured for Aurora to take the seat opposite her desk. She was silent for a long time. A long time. She was so quiet that Aurora felt a cold discomfort prick the back of her neck. Tara had never been one to be at a loss for words.

"I... am in trouble. We are in trouble. I'll tell you what I know, and then I'll answer any questions you have. A few years ago, the name "Mavra Volkov" crossed my desk for the first time. He was an assassin, and nothing in particular stood out about him except his exceptional talents. I never met the man, but he worked his way up to complete a few jobs that... well, there was a time when you were very young that your father was semi-retired. He tried to stay at home, but when I found something truly challenging... I would call him first. Those difficult, six or seven figure jobs were all your father did when you were young. They took a toll on him, and he had a few close calls; eventually, he stepped back fully to take care of you and Will. Those were the jobs that Volkov was accepting and completing. He built a small fortune, then he disappeared."

"A year and a half ago he resurfaced in Moscow and started killing my people. At first, I thought the secret police were behind it as an organization... but before Russia went dark for me I'd heard his name. I know nothing else about him outside of his name and country of origin, and everyone I've sent to find out more about him has ended up a corpse."

"I thought that his torching of my Moscow network was the end of it, but he showed up in Istanbul three weeks later and he hasn't stopped since. Two and a half months ago, he killed Stella DiVasio in her home. No, your father isn't aware. I was worried it was a trap, designed to lure you or your father into charging in- which is why I didn't want him here today"

Tara looked at her niece steadily.

"I've thrown everything I could at this man. Bribes. Mercenaries. Assassins. Once, I managed to get a full eighth of the entire Romanian Army to attack him."

She paused. 

"He keeps coming. Every weapon I turn against him, he swats them away like a fly. Every asset that I try to protect is found dead. I built one of the best information networks in Europe. Last year, I had 8 lieutenants managing over a hundred agents and sources..."

Tara stared at Aurora with suddenly dead eyes.

"... Aurora, I have no one left. No one. My network has been bled."

The red that covered Europe on the map seemed so deep that it threatened to drip down onto the wall like a bloodstain.

"My allies, my friends, my acquaintances... they don't answer my calls anymore. The only people I can hire are the ones so new that they don't know about what happened to the last hundred people who took my money. My mentor in this business called me last week to say goodbye; I'm too risky to associate with now. He told me that the Devil was coming for me, and that he'd only known a handful of people in his long career that were capable of this. One Russian, but he died years ago. A Swede who's currently in jail. A Mexican man who seems to be retired.  Gavin and I, back when we were young enough to be at our best. A handful of other in the states who were strictly operating in La Cosa Nostra. And Mavra Volkov. My mentor told me that if that's the skill level I was dealing with, I had no hope. His exact phrase. I just flew to Mexico to try to talk the man there out of retirement, but he's far too old. Where else can I find someone this deadly?"

She shook her head.

"Volkov spent two months destroying something that took me two decades to build. I have nowhere else to turn."

Aurora had never seen Tara rattled or afraid; realizing just how much she'd opened up, Tara turned and looked away.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to be honest. I... things started in Moscow. He's been moving steadily westward, and I just lost London. You could be next. Gavin. Will. Me. I needed to warn you- to plan our next move. Your father forged you into a weapon, and I honestly don't know whether you're as good as he was in his prime, worse, or better. You never freelanced the way your father did. You haven't had to, and things here... the point is, I don't know of anyone else outside of my own family who could even have a shot here."

Tara closed her eyes again.

"Will's safe. And he'll stay safe. He doesn't know this, but his entire dorm is made up of young men working for me to protect him. They're all either U.S. Army or have experience as a mercenary. It cost me most of what I had left in the bank. He's as safe as I can make him, but I can't feel confident when..."

She indicated the map behind her. 

"As for you and your father... well, I have no one else to turn to. I wanted to leave Gavin and you in your grief, in your joy... but although I can't explain Mavra Volkov, I feel very confident that we need to kill him before he kills us."

Tara shook her head in disbelief and shock; she was doing it so much that Aurora wasn't sure whether Tara even realized she was doing it anymore- or if disbelief and shock had become her aunt's default setting. 

"I didn't ask Gavin to join me here, because I don't need his opinion. Gavin would want to find Volkov and kill him as directly as possible. You're the future of this family, Aurora. And for something like this, you're more clear headed than your father, even if you do share his penchant for direct action."

Tara sighed.

"The person I really wish was here with you would be Bella. She had a way of thinking about things, focused on minute details, that could come in handy moving forward."

The older woman shrugged.

"I've protected Will as much as he can possible be protected. At this point, Harvard's graduating class in four years is going to be 15% bodyguards...  I at least want to hear your thoughts here and possibly have you accompany me. As for your father... he's not as good as he used to be. But he obviously could still play a role here. I..."

She paused, shaking her head subconsciously again.

"I wouldn't involve Billy if you could help it. Keep him with little Gav as much as possible, I'd say. But I've been wrong before."

Tara sighed, then seemed to focus.

"I want to go to Moscow. It's just a hunch, but I feel like Volkov started there for a reason. He's Russian, so it might have just been the closest targets, but..."

She shook her head again.

"I'd like to go to Moscow and see what I can dig up. I at least want to make a final play, rather than wait for the knife. As much as I don't want to endanger you or take you away from your family, you're the single best person to come with me, based on skill alone. Billy stands out too much, and I don't want both of you to leave your child. And your father... I don't know. I originally thought of him and I going to Russia on our own. But outside of the fact that you might be better than him- at least at some things.... beyond that... looking at the data, looking at the people who died..."

Her voice grew quieter.

"I can't prove it, and it hurts my ego to think it, but I wonder if your father is the ultimate target."

There were a million things to unpack in what Tara had said.  All of it unsettling.  This felt nothing like the woman she'd grown up admiring and it had less to do with the red on the map and to do with her demeanor.  The loss of control, the fear, the disorganized thought processes and at least three things she'd thought of that Tara didn't present her answers with that she was forced to wonder - did she not answer because she didn't ask those questions herself or because she couldn't find answers on her own.

Aurora sat still, observing, trying to remember everything Gavin taught her.  Normally she could rely upon Tara to present all the facts and hand her a ready-made problem needing a solution... but this Tara wasn't a client, she was a victim and the moment she heard the terrible news about Stella, in many ways she realized that they all were.  Her father would be crushed.  Another person who he loved, gone.  Only this time, there was a target to put his rage upon... 

Tara's right to be worried.  

She seemed to have thought about Will's safety but only after she'd lost control of everything so utterly that she had nothing left to give Rora's children and it bothered her.  It also validated her assessment.  Tara was in crisis mode.  Makes were likely made, and being made and Will was no safer than anyone else really. 

Hired guns only stayed loyal so long as the money was coming and would keep coming if they learned that Tara wouldn't be there to sign checks... or that she was in the crosshairs, each and every man had the potential to become an enemy.  This Volkov fellow wouldn't even have to work hard... just offer more money. 

Mercenaries were fucking predictable in that way... zero loyalty.  The only hope was that their names and reputations meant something to them... of course, if the Byrne family was wiped from the earth, what fear did they really have?  And, if Volkov had been as successful in dismantling Tara, he wouldn't be wrong to brag that fact to the mercs caring for her brother.

Aurora pressed her lips in a thin line considering the wave of red on the map.

I'm a better killer than the men she's hired to get to him before, but ... how the hell am I supposed to stop someone like this?  Bullets kill goons and masterminds alike, but even so... if a sniper could have done the job, why didn't they?  If this man wasn't so obsessed with us in particular, I could hope to get brought into his operation and get close enough to kill him... but surely he did his homework and knows all of us?
 

"I can't prove it, and it hurts my ego to think it, but I wonder if your father is the ultimate target."
 

It was her last sentence that finally made it all come together for her.  Why she'd waited so long to come and ask for help, why the few questions she had seemed to go unanswered and why Tara hadn't wanted him to be here.

Aurora stood up.

The diminutive woman was every bit her father's daughter, strong and capable physically, but she was also Bella's girl too and no more would that be apparent to Tara than in the moment her niece came around the desk to pull her into an embrace.  This hug, unlike ones in the past where Aurora clung to her favorite Aunt who indulged her whims and turned fantasies into reality with a word, this hug wasn't for Aurora.  It was for Tara. 

Aurora held her tight, she let the other woman feel her strength and her confidence.  She held her longer than was a passive thing.  She held her to comfort her and did not relent until she felt something shift in Tara.  Not grow softer, or more relaxed, that was too much to hope for - just change.  She needed to know Tara realized she wasn't alone now.

When Aurora let her go she didn't return to the seat across from her Aunt.  The seat opposite a desk was a play in power and Tara liked control but she had none here.  Pretty lies to her dad or to Tara wasn't going to fix this, they needed solid solutions and quickly.

"When was the last time you ate and slept properly?  More than two or four hours I mean?"  The answer didn't matter, she could use both things.  Aurora shook her head.  "Forget I asked.  Look, it's biology.  Your brain needs food, water, and rest and that's our biggest asset.  You neglect it then you miss something, and if you miss something and the results are dire.  So... you'll come to my house tonight.  I know, you want to go now.  I get that, but I need to prepare anyway.  I can't just abandon Little Gav and Brigitte, not even for something like this.  The baby is nursing still, I can get something from the doctor to end that, I knew it was an option when I..."

She became emotional about that, she felt a sob choke in her throat.  It was just feedings and yet, it felt like someone was threatening to take her baby away forever!  The idea of never holding Gav to her breast again, never again kissing his sweet brow while inhaling his scent, looking at him as he looked up at her suckling... 

She swallowed back the lump in her throat.

"... but now I have a reason to take the offered medicine.  I'll call, get the prescription picked up this afternoon.  Then, I'll need to arrange for some of that powdered stuff to be brought to the house for him."  She wondered if it would be as good for the baby as they said it could be.  Many mothers she knew were using it now, they said bottles freed them up to do other things and kept their breasts looking neat and desirable to their husbands... but Billy liked her nursing Gav, would this disappoint him or prove a boon?  It didn't matter.  A crazed fucking assassin was coming for her family - saggy tits were the last of her worries now.

"And not telling Billy is a non-starter.  Beyond being suicidally stupid not to tap someone as physically strong as him and with as much money and resources while we're so short ourselves, there's the fact that I don't lie to him.  Especially not about something like this and God help him if he ever should keep something like this from me.  I see what you're saying about my kids not losing both parents and it's on my mind too... but risk assessment for our family, for our children, that's our job."

She nodded, there was no discussion to be had on that topic, only informing Tara.  If she wanted to make it a fight, she'd lose.  Aurora was one of her final options, she'd made it clear.  So Tara had no leverage.

"If you're at my house, visiting the baby, anything you just said about those stupid guns becomes a little more palatable to Dad.  I'm not 100% on board on lying to him for his own protection.  If anyone else dies in the course of this, what it will do to him not just that he couldn't help - but that you didn't trust him to?"

She shook her head.

"You're not wrong to realize he's got less to fight for now that mom is gone, but you're also underestimating the strength he has and his commitment to us kids and his grandchildren."  She didn't like talking about that day... but Tara wasn't there.  She didn't know.  She hadn't seen and she couldn't be blamed for what she had no measure of.

"I was there for it all.  The moment he made his choice at Hollowpoint."  She sighed.  "Dad was stronger then than he's ever been and in a way that none of us could have seen nor could I have understood until I became a mother."

She shook her head.

"He's not going to throw his life away and when I point out to him that I am point on this mission and that I'm most likely going to take Billy with me... he's the only person I can trust to keep my babies safe.  I NEED him to do this and I need whatever wisdom he can give me right now.  You do too."

She stepped near to Tara and put her hand over her Aunt's.

"You chose to protect him and so you bound up, blinded and deafened one-half of the greatest fucking team this thing of ours has ever known... you and Dad.  You said so yourself, in your prime, together you were unstoppable.  Did you really think you would do better here without his knowledge of the world's best killers?  Sure we're not rubbing elbows with other hitmen at yearly killer conventions but there is something true about knowing your competition."

She sat on the edge of Tara's desk.  "But, if you suspect Dad's the target that means you've already assumed it could be personal between Dad and Volkov.  Which... if that's the case, makes dad the EXACT person we need to talk to before any shit head over in Russia.  We're reaching for straws when the man who might have all the answers is out in that hanger right now.  I know neither of us wants to tempt him to run off like he's done in the past, hoping to solve the problem with extreme prejudice for us all, but trust that Dad isn't a hot-headed twenty-year-old ... time and children and a blessed life have tempered him."

She nodded and admitted,  "Losing his Dragon did too. He knows that he's all we got now.  I see it when he restrains himself from taking one more glass of whiskey so he can be sober enough to get up with the kids if something happens and a thousand other little moments every day.  He can be made to see sense - to do the truly hard thing because with all he's been through throwing himself into death would be easier.  But THIS, living, matters.  We need him alive."

She took her hand off Tara's.

"Take some time to think about it.  You should be the one to tell him about this because despite your fears - you two are a team.  Maybe you don't tell him right now - may be late tonight or tomorrow.  If you don't want to or can't ... I will.  Until then, you'll eat a proper meal or two, drink something healthy..."  She looked around for the bottle of wine or something stronger she suspected was nearby.  "... love your great niece and nephew and share a few laughs with us.  You'll sleep in a proper bed that doesn't move from city to city - surrounded people who love you.  Then, in the morning, regardless of how things play out with Dad, we'll leave together for Russia.  Okay?"

She arched an eyebrow. 

As Rora pulled Tara into a hug, she could feel the older woman finally exhale as her hands found Aurora's back. When Aurora began speaking again, Tara leaned against the corner of her desk. She took it all in, then began responding to her niece; there was no anger in Tara's voice- just exhaustion.

"For the last two months, I've been forcing myself to eat three square meals a day. I wanted to be at my best for this chess match with Volkov."

She sighed.

"I was at my best. And it didn't matter. I thought I could win this war from a desk, and my miscalculation cost me everything. In another world, I should have come to you and your father months ago. But I couldn't- and I didn't want to do that to you."

"You do what you need to, to prepare. My London operation was just destroyed last night, and there's usually a pause between strikes of at least a few days. However, I will not be coming to your house tonight or seeing your children, as much as I'd love to; if Volkov surprises me and comes for me, I'd like to limit the collateral damage."

When it came to the topic of nursing and taking medicine...

"I... wasn't aware that you'd have to stop nursing like that. I just hadn't thought of it. I'm sorry. Your father won't forgive me if I disrupt your life this much without telling him."

She paused, trying to think of a solution. Bring Gavin instead? Before she could float it, Aurora had moved past her. She raised a hand to stop her niece.

"Rora, I never told you to keep this from Billy. I said I didn't want to bring Billy to Moscow with us. He stands out in a crowd, and I didn't want the two of you to be there together. Perhaps you should stay here with Gav..."

Tara once again did her subconscious shake of the head.

"I never should have asked you for this, Aurora. I... was thinking about you as a chess piece. The ace up my sleeve. I was wrong. Let your father and I handle this together. If we fail, then it will be on you to try to resolve this."

She seemed to deflate before Aurora, and the younger woman seemed to have a moment of understanding. Thirty five years ago, Tara Byrne had walked into Philadelphia with nothing. Six months later, she was running the docks. After a year, she was Jack Mezzo's right hand. Behind Jack, she'd been one of the biggest architects in building what Race Street had become- and she'd never lost. Even when she made the decision to step down as Godmother, it had been because she'd wanted something different from her life. But now, at the age of fifty two, she'd seen everything she'd ever built destroyed. She'd stared down countless foes and won; now, after a thirty five year winning streak, she'd been crushed. 

"You're probably right about your father, too. Tell him... but use you and the baby to force him to stay back and plan. Don't let him charge into a trap. But... maybe you're right.  I know that you've only ever known him as this Gavin. I know him as the terrified little boy willing throwing himself in between my mother and a grown man. He spent the first thirty years of his life trying to die for something. Then he found something to live for. I didn't want to risk old habits... but you're right. You can bring him into this. If you're in, then he's already in."

She shook her head.

"I already asked Gavin about Volkov six months ago, the first time I thought this might be personal. I explained that I was hiring him, wanted to know anything Gavin had on him... Gavin's never heard of him."

Tara looked over at Aurora.

"What I recommend... is that you hole up your family in a safe place. I said I used most of my resources protecting Will; I still have a moderate fortune that we can use to safeguard your family. I... I can't run this operation. I have three leads to follow in Russia as a result of sending two dozen men and women to their deaths. My only hope is that if I can learn more about Volkov, then there's something there we can use against him- or at least to understand him better.

She paused.

"I'm beaten, Aurora. I need someone else with me as I make a final desperate play here to understand my enemy. Whether its a deficiency of skill or simply a flaw in my own strategic thinking... I can't win this. It's time for me to turn the fight against Volkov over to someone else who has a chance of winning. Outside of the three leads I have in Moscow, I have no other moves left to make."

Aurora clicked her tongue.

"No.  Stop.  Just... look."  Her voice wasn't angry, but firm, her amber eyes locked on her Aunt's - she wasn't mad at her but she wasn't going to let the woman beat on herself any more than she already had. 

"I'm glad to be wrong.  I'm glad that you've taken care of yourself and been smart about things.  Understand the only reason I brought it up is because ... it's what mom would have done to herself out of worry and I'm programmed to think about those things first."

I wish you were here now, Mom.  You'd know what to say to her.  You'd know where to start, how to protect dad and this family.

"And YES, Volkov's gotten in some good strikes.  We've lost a lot of blood in the ring.  It's fucking bleak.  I don't know where to start and your leads may end up being a final hail mary at this point.  Yes.  You should have tapped us sooner.  All of this is true.  I know you don't want or need coddling, so I won't give it, but I'm not going to stand by and let you castigate yourself either.  You're Tara Fucking Byrne."

She said the woman's name like it was a curse upon all her enemies, she said it with all the hate she felt for whatever son of a bitch shot her mother and left her to lead this family without a road map to guide her, with a father whose wounds ran deep to his heart, and aging Aunt who felt the burdens of her leadership so much she didn't ask for help sooner, and a brother who she had to run out of her life to shield him from the Cosa Nostra's grip.  The pain was as deep as an ocean and so Aurora rarely allowed herself to tap it.  This moment, however, felt as good a time as any to glimpse into that abyss and pull up some small bit of it to let Tara know - she wasn't fucking around.

"You are the Godmother and matriarch of this family and so long as you're breathing you're not beaten.  So, let's stop looking at weaknesses and failures,"  Aurora walked around the desk and sat in the chair across from her but she sat tall, she crossed her legs and did her best approximation of her mother at the height of her power.  She had to exude confidence, Tara needed it.  More than that she hoped to put Tara back into an old and familiar role, one which she felt some comfort in.  She hoped this might bring something of her old self back out.  In so many ways, it was like being a little girl again... Aurora playing Godmother, Tara pretending to be some lackey, only this time it wasn't a game.  This time her family's lives were at stake.

"What assets do we have?  What do you see as possible liabilities... it doesn't matter if you've gone over this a dozen times yourself.  Let's do it again.  This time I'll listen.  Maybe I'll hear something you missed.  Maybe you'll hear yourself say something you missed.  Either way, there's no harm since you said we have time."

Once, "you're Tara Fucking Byrne" would have brought the fire into her eyes; now, it just made her blink and give her niece a sad smile.

"Thank you, Aurora, but I fear the reality of this situation is different. You can't count the number of pep talks I gave myself in the last several months- or the number that Stella gave me. I had a team, Aurora. We'd meet, we'd plan, and we'd recover from our defeats with the next plan. They're all dead now. I have earned castigation. To be anything other than blunt about how thoroughly beaten I am would be a disservice and a danger to you."

"I am no longer the Godmother and matriarch of this family- that's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm not here just to ask for your help. I'm here to pass the torch. I've lost everything, and no conversation will undo the damage of the last eighteen months. This is not a crisis of confidence, Aurora Byrne. I know what I'm capable of better than anyone, and I take pride in what I was able to build during my lifetime, regardless of its current status. Come, look at this."

Aurora stood up, following Tara to where she looked at the maps.

"You see what he has done."

She returned to sit in the chair opposite the desk, leaving the chair behind the desk for Aurora. Whether it was the reversal of roles or simply the ability to focus on the facts, Tara did seem to perk up a little as she spoke.

"Assets. I still have money. Fifty million or so. I was planning on using that to protect your family and fund this investigation. I have the plane we can use. That's... well that's about it for the big picture. I sold all my houses. Volkov started killing the friends I allowed to stay there for free... no, everything I have is either money or on this plane: weapons, maps, an assortment of clothes, some random supplies that could be useful. I have a few friends, but no one's taking my calls anymore... well, I hope that's what it is. If not, they're dead."

She shook her head again.

"In Moscow, I have three leads. Leads might even be too strong of a word. Everything I've touched in this investigation has turned to ashes... so I won't to be clear that I'm not recommending any particular order for how we pursue these."

Tara grimaced before she found her rhythm again.

"It seems likely to me that Volkov has some sort of official training. It's possible that, like your father, his skills could have developed in another way... but the precision of his actions lead me to believe that he's been trained well. There are a few possibilities there: special forces, secret police, or the Bratva- their equivalent of organized crime... but "Mavra Volkov" doesn't exist until he showed up and started carrying out elite level hits for money. If we could find out what his real name is, we could try to find out who he is, how he fights, what connections he has. It's also possible that either the Russian government or the Bratva has more information about him. But even before my network was destroyed, they didn't return my calls or respond to my couriers. If you wanted to get anything out of them, more direct action might be required. Kidnapping someone 'in the know', perhaps. But that could get either the Russian government or their entire world of organized crime hunting us- which would obviously make things even more impossible for us."

"There's also a bar in Moscow that he reportedly visited when he was first starting out- though he stopped going there years ago. It could be a hint to his past. I've sent six people to check the place out, including one very close friend; none of them ever managed to report back before they were killed."

"Lastly, my three most recent agents, prior to their deaths, suggested that a woman named Alena Petrov in North Moscow may hold the key to this. They said she might have a way of knowing who Volkov was through his family, and she'd provided them with some basic information that had led to bigger things. But they never solved the mystery. As far as I know, she's still there in Moscow."

Tara sighed.

"Or we could use someone as bait... but I've tried that. There was a man with me in Paris; he'd been my lover for a decade. He volunteered to act as bait, and I built the most perfect trap ever devised to catch an assassin who preferred knives. Volkov stood outside my trap and used a rifle to kill him. He'd never used a gun before. Later, he left me a note saying that Jean was never going to be a target, but that if I was so eager to sacrifice him, then he was happy to oblige. I... have to choose to believe that he's lying to me, I think."

She shook her her again.

"Three leads in Moscow, money, the plane, and me. That's all I have to give you. You're choosing who's on the team and who's staying back; my only requirement is that I'm with you in Moscow. I'm fluent in Russian, I've been there before, and I'm more familiar with the details of those leads. It's going to be up to you how to proceed, but my only other recommendation is to keep your team small. You need to stay under the radar of the Bratva and the government... and I've tried again and again to beat him with overwhelming force from my desk and failed. Meanwhile, Volkov travels Europe alone- or works only with a very small team. This isn't going to be solved with you bringing a dozen people or hiring an army of mercenaries... this is going to be solved by one or two people getting in a room with him and killing him."

Her words expended, Tara's mind turned away from the briefing that had seemed to grant her a respite and she seemed to deflate again.

"I'd like to hear your questions. Talk about anything you'd like. Then I'd like to see your father."

"There's a lot to think about here."

I've spent my whole life thinking there was no enemy Aunt Tara couldn't outwit, no enemy my father couldn't kill and that my mother was destined to have everything in the world just fall into place for her.  

She sighed.

Growing up removes childish notions from us all, I suppose, I just wish the universe hadn't been set upon making it all happen at once for me and Will.

She pressed her lips in a thin line, her brow furrowed.  "You're smarter than I am... if you don't see an answer right away, I'm not likely to spot one.  Of course, Dad always says I have good instincts, so maybe..."  She shook her head sure that if it Tara said it, then it was already a fully researched thing.  At least as much as it could be without going to Russia personally.

"So, that said... I wish you'd reconsider visiting... but I appreciate why you're not.  I won't push the issue.  And as I don't have questions in this moment, I think maybe it's time to talk to Dad.  The question is, are you wanting to do that alone?  If so, I'll just... go sit with the car.  I'll talk to him after.  If you'd like me to be here, I can.  I'll stay quiet until you want or need something from me."

"I'm smarter than you are at some things, Aurora, but that hasn't helped me here. I approached this problem like a general. But I was wrong, obviously. An empress can't win this- only a gladiator. My instincts have betrayed me again and again; it's time to let someone else try."

She sighed.

"There's nothing I'd like more than see your children. But how could I?"

With a brief call to her guard, she asked for Gavin. Two minutes later he walked into the room wearing his poker face. Tara sat him down and told him, in a muted, tired tone everything that she'd told Rora: Volkov, the past, her network. She broached the topic of Stella's death and Rora noticed Gavin's fist clench for a moment- but he barely blinked. Did he already know she'd died? At the end, Gavin nodded, but both Aurora and Tara knew him well enough to see his anger. 

After a few moments, more in control, Gavin looked at Aurora.

"I think Tara and I should go alone. Your responsibility is to your children, and even something like this shouldn't take you away from Gav. He's too young."

Aurora frowned, considering the different possibilities, and Gavin read her face. That wasn't a decision that would be made right now; no, it would be better to get her home to talk to Billy, give her a few hours to process.

"Let's go home. Tara, you're coming with us."

She shook her head, started to protest, but Gavin grabbed her shoulders and stared at her, repeating it again.

"You're coming with us."

Tara stared for a moment, then closed her eyes and nodded.

Gavin's arms were already at her shoulders, and it was easy for her to just fall forward into him; Gavin was somewhat reminded of Aurora's faint at the hospital- the powerlessness of it. As soon as he wrapped one arm around her, Gavin started waving Aurora out of the room. The last thing she heard was the sound of Tara crying.

Rora sat with little Gav laid out on a pillow across her lap, the baby wore nothing but a diaper and a light sheet across his sleeping form.  He'd fallen asleep nursing and Aurora had yet to find the motivation to get up and put the baby into his bassinet before Billy had come home after a much longer than anticipated day.

Rora noted that Rachel had failed in tracking him down which she took to mean his day didn't go as planned, she hoped that meant good news and not bad.  There was enough bad news today to last a lifetime. It was rare for Billy to miss a meal. That he had suggested he'd once again been over-working trying to rebuild his name and his family to what it once had been.

Rora was dressed in a nearly sheer powder pink nightgown.  One spaghetti strap down, a breast still exposed. She stared down at her son, trying to burn him into her memories just this way.  Wanting to never forget when he was still so little and needed her so very much.

Billy sighs, “Roar. Did he keep you awake again?”

Rora shakes her head, not looking up from him.  She bends down and kisses his brow, deeply inhaling his scent.

Billy walks over and bends down to hold Rora and his little Gav. After a moment, he speaks in a whisper.

“You know, the only thing that would make this any better is sleeping in her own room right now.”

“She tried to sleep with Grandpa Gavin tonight… but he has a guest so, I made her stay in the house.”  She wet her lips. “Could you… put him in the crib?”

Aurora’s eyes did not come off the baby.  Not once. Sadness hung about her like a heavy weight.

Billy lifted Gav out of Aurora’s arms and made his way to the crib, but he stalled before putting him back down. Instead, he stood there, just looking.

“A guest huh? Someone I should know about? Is that why you’re awake?”

He turned to put Gav down.

“We need to talk.”  She said this with a gravity that could have shifted the world upon its very axis and, she supposed, in some ways the words did.  Nothing good was going to come of this discussion. She was neither the Dragon nor he The Wolf of Race Street. How the hell would they work through this?  How could she make him see? How could she make herself go through with any of this madness? Damn Tara, damn her for not having come sooner before everything had begun to take this wonderful turn.  Damn her for not coming when her mother was alive and powerful and something might have been done. Damn her for making her be this person she wasn’t… especially now.

Billy nodded slowly. “Alright.” He then turned and made his way to Aurora, taking her by the hand and leading her into the kitchen.

“How long of a talk? Tea long, or just a glass of water long?”

“Probably coffee to start… whiskey by the end, assuming you haven’t left to sleep or drink somewhere else by the time I’m done fucking this up.”  She sounded sad, but oddly committed to whatever it was she had to talk to him about.

Billy could feel the blood rushing from his face. He could feel as if his heart had seized in his chest, the last echos still reverberated in his ears. It was his one nightmare, it was the one thing he dreaded more than anything else. He could feel his eyes starting to burn as he collapsed into the chair.

“Just tell me two things. First, who was it, and second, do you love them?”

Aurora blinked.  She shook her head fervently.  “No… no… Billy,” she came to him then taking his hands in her own, kneeling down to his eye level.  “I haven’t slept with another man. There is no one else. You’re … no. Just no. This is something else entirely.  Honey…” she threw her arms around him and held him tight.

It hit her then, just how much she stood to lose.  Just how much Volkov, this boogeyman threatened. She burned with hatred for a man she did not yet know the face of and wished death upon him and anyone who had ever cared for him - all for threatening this.  Her family.

“Non tradirei mai il tuo cuore, la luce dei miei occhi. Ti amo.”  She kissed him.

He held her fast to him, not wanting to let her go, afraid of what might happen if he did. What was it that had her feeling this way? What had she gone through today that had torn her down?

“Alright, then tell me what you need to tell me and I will put on some coffee. But you should know something. Whatever you have to tell me, if we need something stronger, we are low on whiskey.”

Aurora drew a breath.  “Aunt Tara is here. She called today and asked me to meet her on her plane.  She… came to ask for my help with something. The something, as it turns out isn’t a small ask.  In truth, she came to warn us as much as anything. So before I say another word, I should let you know that I’ve already informed Charlie.  He’ll have a new plan for security ready for you to discuss tomorrow - but I’ve already told him everything he’s writing up my be thrown out at a moment’s notice depending on how this discussion between us goes tonight.”

She paused to try and read his facial expressions and body language hoping to get some insight into how serious he was taking this whole damn thing and how she could possibly soften the blow somehow.

“The fuck do you mean Charlie will have a new plan?” Billy stood back up out of the chair and made his way to the cabinet to pull out a pair of glasses and a single bottle.

“I mean, we’re going to possibly need to hire some more protection.”  She said calmly. “Charlie said you had folders of information on men you’d looked at before, back in Detroit.  He’s reviewing possible options to call and will have some for you to consider tomorrow morning. When, of course, you get up.”

Billy shrugged. “Well, I’m up.” He thought to raise his voice, and then remembered the children, so instead he sighed and walked over to the wall and hit the black button underneath the phone. “Whoever is on the other end right now, send Charlie.” He grabbed the bottle and poured.

“Cart before the horse, sweetie?  Don’t you want to know why I’m worried before you rake poor Charlie over the coals on his plans?”

“I’m not raking him over the coals. You’re going to tell me while he is on the way, and I’m going to tell him who to hire and who I don’t trust on that list anymore. This is simple, you said we need more protection. We are getting it, now.” He took a sip of whiskey and then slid the other glass to his wife. “Now, the why we need it could be something you should start to think about sharing.”

She sighed and stared blankly, trying to think of the simplest way to put this - the most direct and yet the most impactful for him to understand with total clarity the gravity of this shit show.  Billy was a man who liked black and white as much as her and her mother’s tendencies to run at the mouth apparently had been somewhat inherited by her (though she was loathed to admit it) so she had to be terse here.  Militaristic even.

“The Byrne crime family, such as it is…”  She swallowed. “... has been obliterated.”

Billy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a trait he had picked up no doubt from his sister. “What the fuck does that even mean!?”

“Hundreds of millions of dollars gone.  A network of eyes and ears across Europe that won’t talk to us anymore, those that are still alive that is, and my Aunt out of favor everywhere… and on the run.  Blacklisted. A red X on her… an assassin, with seemingly limitless resources and a very personal chip on his shoulder for some unknown reason, hunting us. Every single thing my Aunt and my family by enlarge had built up until this point - it’s all gone, because of this man.  He’s killed our operatives, associates of all levels and skills, and dear beloved family friends… people as close to us as Neil and closer.”

She shook her head.

“It’s all lost.  There’s no understating the amount of devastation this man has brought upon us already and I’ve only just learned about him today… and he’s coming Billy.  I don’t know why but he’s coming for us. And no army my Aunt has put in his way has even slowed him. People are cutting us off, even now. The name Byrne is becoming persona non grata.  No one wants to be associated with someone who is marked for death like us because everyone who has given aid to my Aunt, anyone who has even loosely been associating with her - fuck just living in her damn properties, has found their way into a body bag.”

Aurora paused, letting him take in these seemingly impossible statements.

Billy nodded as Aurora spoke and then when she took a moment to breathe interjected. “It’s a good thing you married rich then.” He took another sip of whiskey before he continued. “Just one guy? You’re sure about that? Cause it sounds like there’s a whole goddamned army wiping your people off the map. Honestly, it sounds a lot like what happened in Detroit when I first came back, and I’m not alright with that. You don’t burn everything to the ground, that’s not how this works. Guy’s name is what now? Or girl? I mean, I don’t mean to assume, but you said him right?”

“Mavra Volkov.”  She said the name like a curse and picked up the whiskey in front of her to sip.

“Russian bullshit. You know I heard about some of their crap when I was hiding out for a bit. There was no way not to hear about it. Everyone is equal, nobody is special sort of bullshit. Sounds real good to people who are starving and don’t have anything to eat, but that’s just not how life works. Somebody is always on top, and it sounds like this guy drank that wellspring of knowledge a bit too deep.” He shook his head and emptied his glass. “Alright Mrs. Mastrosimone. Do we have this guy, or do we need to go get him?”

“Tara thinks he’s coming here.  If we sit this out, if we hole up… we don’t survive.  We’re fish in a barrell. However, if we figure him out - find out what this shit is about and try to cut him off at the root?  Go on the offensive to defend our family? Remind this fucker why the hell the rest of the world has feared my family for this fucking long - well… that’s a different story.  I’m not content to wait around for him to come here and hurt our children or to try and tear down what we’ve built up or even just take pot shots at those people who dare to be our friends and aid us.”  

She shakes her head.   “Which means… we do what we can to protect what we have and then we hunt him like the fucking rabid dog he is to put him down.”

Billy nodded and grinned a wide grin. He hadn’t been let loose on a guy in a long time. Almost once in Europe, but it never came to it. Instead, they wound up having a beer. Billy had a feeling this was not going to end in beer. After all, Russians only drank Vodka anyway.  “Sounds like a fucking plan, except I got one question. What about the kids? Is this a boxcar sort of situation, or are we going full bunker mode for the foreseeable future?”

Aurora took a moment to appreciate that Billy understood her better than she gave him credit for.  A smile tugged at the corner of her troubled lips. “I love you, Mr. Mastrosimone, you do know that… right?”

Billy reached out and took Aurora’s hand and kissed it. “Course I do, but if you’re trying to get me into bed one more time before we go on this adventure of ours, that’s not the way to do it.” He paused a second and kissed her hand. “I love you too Roar, just as much as I love Gav and Brigitte, probably more, but don’t tell them that.”

She looked troubled then.  She shook her head. “We promised.  Kids first. Always. Yes?”

Billy squinted his eyes at her. This was about to go downhill fast. He knew she was thinking about something that hadn’t crossed his mind yet, but he was about to get hit with it like he was standing on the wrong tracks and didn’t hear the train coming. “Uh-huh.”

“Tara is worried you’ll stand out.  That … people will see a big guy like you and pay too much attention.  She wanted me to just immediately get on the damn plane and fly with her to Russia but I told her no.  I had too much to make sure was in place first, not the least of which was talking to you. And I can’t blame her, she’s shaken to her core and desperate… but we do things a certain way in this family and I’m not putting aside what WE do for others.  Not even Aunt Tara.”

She drew a breath.

“That said… she has a point.  You don’t speak a word of Russian and you will stand out among a crowd of short little Russian men and women.  You’ll be remembered and if this mission is about digging up information … at least at first, I’m not entirely sure she’s wrong to say that maybe it’s wisest for me to do this first bit alone.  To let one of us be with the kids, in case the worst happens.”

“AND well, because, again, it’s tactically smart.  That’s not to say it’s what I want. I don’t. I want you with me and I swore that after I got you back I’d never be apart from you again… but this isn’t a normal situation.  Someone, a very skilled killer, is coming to hurt our family and leaving the kids unprotected scares the shit out of me. I would feel a whole lot better knowing you were here with them.  Or, rather, that you and they were in a bunker somewhere.”

Billy shook his head. “No.” He poured another glass of whiskey slowly. “I have a better idea. I’m completely with you on bunkering the kids, but let’s be honest with one another, I stick out like a sore thumb right?” He sipped his whiskey.

Aurora watched him, and nodded, apprehensive of what was about to come out of his mouth.

“Don’t be stupid Roar, let’s use that.” He waited a moment to see if she was following.

A light behind her eyes slowly appeared as she thought she was catching on to what he had planned.  “So… no one would ever imagine a nursing mother would leave her newborn son and little girl alone.” she nodded.  “So, of course, you would go. You and Tara who speaks Russian. You’d go to investigate. And … no one would be looking for me coming in separately from another direction?  We do double the work, half the time. There’s just one small problem with that plan.”

“What’s the problem? Also, wait before you say anything at all, I never said Russia. We can use this a whole bunch of ways. We need this guy in Italy? Send me to Italy and keep him away while you and Tara search.”

She shook her head, “He wasn’t going to kill Tara’s lover until she used him as bait.  I can’t do something equally stupid. No. If we’re going to use you as a distraction best to have you actually doing something useful.  You and Tara being in the same place as me, maybe not digging up the same leads… but… working the angles. She needs muscle. You need her brains.  You can keep her confidence up. She can help you understand all the Russian. Me… that’s the only stumbling point. I don’t speak Russian which means I need someone with me who does and the list of people who speak Russian that I trust is SUPER short.”

Billy lowered his head. “You’re not gonna like what I’m gonna say next, so I won’t say it. You already know it.”

“I’ll try to control my reaction as well as you controlled yours.”  She allowed and prepared herself for whatever stupid thing he was about to say.

“Family Roar, that’s all we’ve got.”

Aurora sighed.  “Mom wants him to stay out.  I can’t put him in this kind of danger.”

“Yeah, cause Volkov is gonna let him stay out.”

“Tara has him protected, he’s entire dorm this first semester at Harvard is like ex-military guys… she’s…”

“Like her other men were protected Aurora? Come on, be fucking smart about this!”

Aurora closed her eyes and winced as if struck.

“I’m sorry. I do love you. But if they really think the way that we are anticipating? Yeah, they are gonna think Will is gonna stay holed up forever, and we make it look that way. I keep paying those bastards and we put a kid who looks exactly like will in his place and give him the flu so nobody gets too close. That could buy you about a week, give or take. You and I both know what you can get done in a week.” He reached out with both of his hands to take hers, clasping them gently but refusing to let go so that she would be forced to look at him.

“I don’t even know how fluent he is, and that’s to say nothing of Tara and Dad.  They will fucking want to shoot me for bringing Will in on this. Especially since she spent a mint of what little she has left to see him safely off at school studying to live a better life than this one.”  She shook her head. “What if… what if it were Gav or Brigitte? If you gave your life to see them out, could you EVER forgive me for bringing them back in?”

Billy sighed and lowered his hands. “I…” He stopped, he needed a second. He knew there was something, He knew it in the back of his head. He just needed to call it up. “Alright, you’re right. Tara and your father would be pissed, and that’s a non-starter I guess. But your mom? Your mom loved you all more than I ever imagined I could love anyone. There is no way in hell your mom would have even let him drive a car on his own, let alone go to a dangerous country to do God knows what.” He shook his head. “You’re right in all of that. I’m just really curious when the rest of you are going to realize that none of you are letting WIll grow up.”

Aurora logically agreed, of course, but the look in her eyes said a great deal about her inner conflict without a single word.  Will had obviously been on her mind before Billy’s plan had been voiced - though in what context was uncertain.

Her tone, when she spoke at long last, was grave.  “Will grew up the day he listened to his mom died and couldn’t do a damn thing to save her.  And I’m always going to be the person who kept him from going back to her when both my dad and I walked away.  Will was the only one with the heart to die with her… Will. Little, weak, Will.”

She shook her head.

“No.  He’s a man now.  I haven’t missed it and I couldn’t keep him from growing up even if I had cared to try.  The difference is, now, he blames me for it. Calling Will for this, oh he’ll come, but let’s just say I’m sure he and I will have our fair share of difficulties and distractions along the way.  This isn’t going to be a … a family reunion where we all come together and stand shoulder to shoulder against some insurmountable foe like in some story!” She’d become upset, not about what they were discussing but about the nature of her and Will’s damaged relationship and how much being separated from him had tore at her own heart.

“Will would come, for the family.  He’d stay for Mom. And he’d be wrong.  I can handle him hating me. May he live a very long time and may his hate be deep and healthy for many years to come.  At least he’ll be alive.” She looked down, shame clear in her expression. “No. I don’t think I can ask him Billy. I know I should, on some level… but… there’s just too much that’s happened between us now.  Even if…” Her voice trailed off and she reached for the whiskey, taking her hand out of Billy’s to do so.

Billy waved a dismissive hand. “If I’m this fucking Russian, I don’t stop. I wipe you off the map. I wipe me off the map, I kill Gav and Brigitte, I make Gavin watch the whole time. I rape Tara and I drop them all off in a shallow grave before I turn my sights on Harvard. And the only thing I say at that point is ‘Ah, the weak one is left.’ So, no, you don’t call him. You take Tara. I take Will.”

Aurora stiffened with each word Billy spoke, all except her hand.  Every muscle in her body had clenched up, but that lone right hand which flexed.  It was the only movement she made for a long while. She did not blink. Billy had to wonder if she was breathing or holding her breath, it was so damn silent and still.

She exhaled a shuddering breath, rage, he had to realize.  That was her primary emotion right now and it was barely caged.  Barely.

“She …”  Aurora said softly. “She left something off her report of our assets today.”  It was an odd thing how the mind worked. Especially the mind of Aurora Byrne.  She had nearly slapped him when he said the words ‘rape tara’ but she refrained and her brain began churning out a dozen ideas and thoughts - many were ways she might hurt Billy back for his words or storm out.  Others had been slightly more productive. This… was probably the only one that felt like truth even if it didn’t match the precise shade of crimson she was seeing in right now.

“Family.  She fucking didn’t come to us sooner.  She didn’t come when Mom was alive and we had power.  She didn’t come when you had a city to call upon and we had all of Philly willing to die for us.  She didn’t come BEFORE I had a future all planned out she comes now WITH NOTHING.” she shook her head.  “Three leads. Three. That’s it. Three leads and self-loathing and still not realize that we’re NOT liabilities… but assets.  Well, that the kids and Dad and you and Will aren’t liabilities… but assets.”

She shook her head.  “We let her down. Tara was always outside.  Always watching our happy family, a guardian angel… we all felt it.  But she wasn’t in, not since Will Bowden and Race Street fell. When she left us to travel, to build all those fucking connections and such… she lost the ones that mattered most.  Her connections to us. And only now, in her greatest hour of need has she managed to be pulled back in - but only after my father FORCED her to come tonight.”

She shook her head.  “She wanted to stay on the plane.  She didn’t even trust herself coming home to our home.”  Her chin dropped to her chest.

“How did mom not see that?”  She whispered. “I mean, me and Dad we’re meatheads… but Mom was the heart of this family, the best of all of us.  How did mom not see that the brains of our operation wasn’t attached to the heart anymore? That’s why this is happening.  That’s why this guy has gotten so close to us. He would never have done this to us back when Tara and Dad were close… before Tara left us.  Before she … was outside the family.”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t know, shit happens kid, but what are we gonna do about it? Band together and fight it, or split up and figure shit out on our own? Cause Tara tried the second one. I say we try it your mom’s way. Everyone together. The biggest family you can muster. None of this ‘I can’t trust you cause you’re mad at me.’ bullshit. I mean, fuck sake you of all people know that blood doesn’t make a family. Bonds make a family.” He stretched out his hand and lifted her chin.

“William is always going to be our family to the rest of the world.  Even if he’s out… he’s never really going to be out, is he?” She looked at Billy, somewhat defeated.  “Mom’s hope for him… it’s a pipe dream. Even if we all reject him, all we’ll do is ensure he’s in a place like Tara - alone and ripe to be hit by our enemies.”

“Eh. I always thought the ‘completely out’ route wasn’t going to work. Politicians get in bed with us all the damned time. At least with Will we would have known he was on our side, but sometimes in marriage, you pick your battles. I wasn’t fighting this one with you, the same way you stopped fighting with Brigitte about her still calling me Monsieur Billy. It’s just not gonna change after a while, and you know it, so leave it be and hope for the best.” He smiled at the corner of his mouth. “No matter what though, you’re right. Everyone else is going to see us as a family, all of us, no matter who we reject or embrace. And you can’t change that, so we might as well work together.” He took a deep breath. “If you really think WIll is going to have a problem, I’m serious. I’ll call him, he can come work with me and you can go with Tara. But for now, I don’t want to wake the guy, it will hold until tomorrow. For now, I want you and me, and a bed.”

Aurora nodded.  “He’s a kid, Russia is going to be damn dangerous Billy.  I’m… still concerned about the logistical reasons too. He’s never done any work.  He’s a non-combatant. I… I hate to think what he’ll be like under fire or if they ever got their hands on him.”

Billy shook his head. “That’s why I don’t want to go to Russia. I WANT to go to Italy. I still have family there, and there are a few strings I can pull with enough cash. Sure some of them might still refuse to work for the Byrnes, but for the Mastrosimone almighty American dollar? Say no, see what happens to your olive farms next harvest.”

Aurora sighed.  “I hate the idea of you going  back there, for personal reasons.”  She shook her head. “But you’re set on this… aren’t you?”

Billy shook his head. “Set on it? No. I could go to Switzerland again instead, or France, or England. But if it’s Russia, where this guy is?” He spread his hands in a gesture to indicate he had no control over what happened next.

“But you have connections in Sicily and we know it.  And no, we don’t know where he is. He WAS most recently in London.  Where he is now? We don’t know. I do know he was in Sicily not long ago though.  He killed Aunt Stella. You didn’t get to meet her on our trip, and for that I’m really sorry.  Dad loved her a great deal. Nearly married her I think. Before he met mom. She took a bullet in the spine while dad was meant to be guarding her, back when dad was real young… in his enforcer days.”  

She took a hit of her whiskey.  

“Apparently Volkov killed her.  My gut tells me this is about Dad.  Dad who worked the same sort of jobs Volkov has.  He was one of the people in our circles who filled the void when dad retired from wet work.  Volkov has… something of a history but it appears only to go back as far as Dad’s retirement.  I was eight at the time. Which means, no one knows who he really is, where he came from, or why he’s doing this… it’s why Tara and I have to go to the start of it all.  Russia. You, if you think you can be helpful in Sicily - well, I won’t stand in your way. Do you mean to gather information, act as a decoy, hire an army … all of the above?”

“Goddamned right all of the above. Why waste time doing one job when I can do three? Besides, what would I do in Russia besides decoy?”

Aurora nodded.  “Then the next part is all that matters… I need your help, if my Dad won’t listen to me, I need you to talk to him.  I want him to know that there is only one person on the face of this earth we’d trust our children’s safety to, in this situation.  If we’re going full bunker… I want Dad there protecting them. Agreed?”

Billy nodded. “Your dad stays here, You and Tara to Russia, Me, Will, and maybe Addie to Sicily, and I’m going to loop in Tegs and Alu. Sure they won’t be going anywhere, not with the baby, but if he hit us in London, Tegs might be able to get some info at least. We need to figure out what to do with these leads of Tara’s. Loop me in on those.”

“Alucard and Tegra in London would be a boon, if he was there last the trail may be hot still but that puts them at great personal risk.  I’d hate to tap them until we know more. Maybe we act now, gather intel, bring them in after phase one?”

“Are we playing offense or defense here? Cause I was under the impression that we had a fucking problem to deal with and not something that we are putting off until we figure shit out. If you have Charlie making plans, and we are bunkering the kids, I’m sorry Roar, but I don’t think we can waste time pussyfooting around here.”

Aurora finished her whiskey.  “I hear that.” She said softly.  “It’s just a lot of moving parts when we don’t know where the fuck our enemy is or what his next move is.  Granted, it puts us all together and separate. If he is one man, a fucking ghost killing people like a machine, he’ll have a hard time being in three places at once and maybe that’s a boon to us.  If he’s chasing one lead, the others have a better chance of success. Can’t say Tara hasn’t done this tactic before but she never had been able to do it with so many high-value targets. Which means Volkov will have to pick and choose.  Granted, if this is about Dad, it’s like you said, Volkov gets to do what will please him most.”

Aurora paused and looked sadly at her empty glass, “He gets to pick who will hurt dad the most.  He gets to plan and take that shot or, since he likes knives so much - get up close and do it. We’re giving him the pick of the liter.  And I’m worried he goes for the Wolf Pup. He’ll go for Will. Gavin and Bella’s only true born child. The future of our family’s bloodline.  Honestly, I have half a mind to put Will into the bunker with the kids. God knows Dad would agree.”

“Then let’s talk to them BOTH about that. It’s an option. I don’t need Will with me to go to Sicily. I can go with just Addie.”

Aurora nodded.  “In the morning.  For now, all I want is to hold you.  To fall asleep listening to you and the baby breathing.  To wake up and know you’re all safe. At least one more time…”  

Billy wrapped his arms around Aurora and the two of them stood up together, leaving the whiskey right where it was.  After all, it and their problems would still be there in the morning.

Tara sighed contentedly as she held little Gavin in her eyes, glancing up at her brother with the first true smile on her face since she’d crossed the Atlantic. Brigitte was playing on the floor, building a house, and Tara continued to look warmly at Gavin until he winked and crouched down to play with Brigitte.

Even now, driving a toy car in a bespoke suit, she saw the little boy who had loved her- who had repeatedly thrown himself in harm’s way for her. Tara had never taken that for granted. Every night, once their father had gone to sleep, closing and locking the door to the bedroom he shared with their mother, Tara had crept over to Gavin and woken him up for the daily accounting of bruises, scrapes, and scars.

It was funny, how things had changed for them. Tara had always wanted a family- always wanted children. Gavin had never planned on settling down with any one woman, never mind having kids.

Would their roles be reversed, if Tara had watched Bella get shot and fall back into the Delaware? If Will had survived and they’d settled down together?

There was no use in wondering.

After Will’s death, Tara had taken up Gavin’s old role: the shield. From Europe, she’d gathered information, wealth, and power to serve her family. She still saw them, of course, still appeared in a whirlwind with gifts and a few days of quality time with Aurora or Will, but she never stayed long- she couldn’t. But as she fell asleep in London, Paris, Madrid, Rome… she’d always think of them. She did at that night as well, falling asleep in an extra room as the sounds of her conversation with Gavin and the laughter of the children echoed in her mind. With Will dead, she’d grabbed at the only life that had given her a sense of excitement: the continent hopping influential broker of information. Tonight, for the first time, she regretted her decision. After Volkov was dealt with, she’d stay here in Las Vegas. Her life in Europe was ashes, and there was nothing for her to go back to. No, she would spend her final years with Gavin and his family- with her family. She would advise Aurora, be available to watch and teach Brigitte and Little Gav, and take regular trips to Volkov.

After Volkov was dealt with, she said- but her mind kept pushing back, forcing her to acknowledge that what she really meant was “if Volkov was dealt with”.

_______

Gavin sighed as he turned down his bed and messed up the sheets. He didn’t even feel guilty about it anymore, didn’t even promise himself that it was just temporary. He hadn’t slept in a bed since Bella had died, choosing instead to drift off uncomfortably in chairs or on the floor. Gavin didn’t really know why he didn’t; at first, it made sense that he didn’t sleep in the bed in Montreal that they had shared together- but now that abstinence seemingly extended to every bed.

He settled into the chair by one window, glancing outside at another.

Tara should have called him earlier. He hadn’t had to say it to her; it was one of the first things she’d said to him. She’d tried to protect him, let him take care of Aurora, Gav, Will, Brigitte.

Gavin wasn’t scared of Volkov. He’d been having run ins with deadly people since he was five years old, and he was still here. No, Volkov would be dealt with.

He’d go to Moscow with Tara, they’d learn about him, and they’d find a way to track him down and lean him to the wall. Aurora, Billy, Will, and their family could stay safe- stay together- and not have their lives interrupted too much.

No, he would deal with Volkov. Then he’d take Tara back to Las Vegas, and the two of them would find purpose in guiding and following the next generation. Perhaps they’d even get a small place of their own, just like the old days.

Once Volkov was dealt with.

_______

36 Hours Earlier

John Martin had been terrified when he got the phone call about Paris falling. His team had simply started calling their enemy "the devil", and it was a terrifying thing to be the last item on the devil's to do list. He'd packed up his family and sent them north to his cousin's place in Scotland, hoping that the devil would see them as unimportant. He'd never killed families before... but John wanted to be cautious.

He stood in front of the mirror, dressing himself for what he expected to be the last time. He enjoyed his cup of tea in the morning, but the pistol on the table next to it drew his attention and his eyes.

There were five of them gathered together in the small cottage. They'd picked a place that was in the country, far away from potential collateral damage. They were the core of Tara Byrne's London network. As he descended the stairs, he saw the gloom and fear on their faces, hoping it didn't look quite as pronounced as his. 

He nodded at Paul and George. The three of them would be the front line here; they were all experienced, skilled warriors. Jane, who largely handled communications and organization, couldn't shoot a gun to save her life- but she had one anyways. Richard wasn't much better, but he at least looked more determined. 

John cleared his throat.

"We all know, I think, what to expect today. We will do our utmost, and all we can do is hope that we're good enough and lucky enough to stop him."

"Is there anyone coming to help us?", questioned Jane, staring up at John with wide eyes.

John shook his head, "No. Everyone in the business knows what we're up against. No one would take Ms. Byrne's money."

The silence fell on the room and lasted for several moments. 

John exhaled, trying to force a smile, "We've been through tough times before. We just need to-"

"I see someone!", shouted George from the window. 

They all raised their guns; John pointed to the window and barked, "George, Paul, the windows. Jane and Richard, back behind the couch."

Glancing outside, John saw a lone figure in the distance.  He had brown hair and was wearing a grey suit. John's blood chilled as he saw the man begin to sprint.

"Shoot him!", shouted John, smashing out one of the windows.

They'd picked the house because of the open ground: 100 meters in all directions. Did Volkov think he could simply...? Blinking, John focused on shooting. The man was picking up speed and he heard himself, George, and Paul repeatedly aiming and shooting in his direction.

The running man kept coming. Was it the tremors in the hands of the shooters? Or was it really the devil himself?

Just as John frantically reloaded again, wondering if his opponent was even a man, the running figure in the grey suit was dropped and fell to the ground. 

"Stay here. Stay down", he spoke to Jane and Richard, his ears still echoing with gunshots at close quarters. As he emerged from the house with Paul and George, he held them up 10 meters away. The figure in the grey suit hadn't moved. John raised his gun and, aiming carefully, put a round in the man's skull. As blood, brains, and fluid leaked out onto the grass, he allowed himself to breath.

"Let's go have a look", he muttered, walking tentatively toward the corpse. 

John kicked over the body, looking down at a man whose expression had been frozen in death.

"Is it Volkov?", asked Paul.

"No", said a voice from behind them.

The next few seconds passed in slow motion for John as he processed what he'd heard and turned toward the voice. His eyes moved faster than his hand, and as he brought the gun to bear he saw another man in a grey suit take three running steps toward them.

Volkov. No, they-

As Volkov sprinted past Paul and George, who were standing next to each other, he shot George in the head in the same moment the knife cut through Paul's throat. He lowered his shoulder into John, knocking the wind out of him, even as John felt a strong hand over his. Still spinning from the hit he'd delivered to John, Volkov raised John's hand with his own and slid his finger into the trigger of the gun. As he spun John from right to left, he shot Paul and George twice in the chest while they were still falling towards the ground. 

John, still holding his gun, found his hand released as he landed roughly against the ground. Despite having the wind knocked out of him, he tried to raise his gun, but Volkov threw his knife and pinned John's wrist against the ground.

As John Martin screamed, Volkov kicked his gun away and waited for him to be silent.

Finally, John looked up at his attacker. His voice was shaken. "The two inside, they're just accountants. They-"

"Are already dead, I'm afraid.", purred Volkov, who was pointing his gun at John.

John was silent.

Trying to ignore the pain, John questioned, "Why are you-?"

Volkov shot him three times, holstering his gun when he was finished.

It was a short jog back to the main road, where he found his car and driver waiting for him.

Aurora got up for the early morning feeding.  Billy went back to snoring once Aurora reassured him that everything was fine.  Once Gav had once again gone into a milk-induced coma once again, Aurora put him into the crib and found herself slipping out to the guest house.  

Before she reached the door she spotted her dad through the window, sleeping in the chair.  She hated that he didn't use the bed she bought him, but she understood it.  Beds were hard enough for her with Billy gone and they hadn't shared a bed for decades.  She never pushed him, not where the memory of mom was concerned.  Bella hadn't been a saint in life, but she was reserved that treatment in death if only because of the love she had for her father.

Aurora tapped on the glass gently.  Gavin's eyes flew open making her wonder if he was sleeping at all.  The man never slept deeply, not in all the years she'd known him.  She gave him a meek smile and waved.  He nodded and she waited outside for him to join her.

The desert sun rising was a thing of beauty.  The way sky was cut with color, peeling back the abyssal night.  It made one think about all the good in the world, about how truth and honesty and purity should always win out over evil and the darkness in the world.  Aurora liked to think the world was so black and white.  Right and wrong.  But she also knew better on some level.  Her parents weren't good people on paper ... not in so many words, and yet they were some of the best people she knew and she loved them none the less.

The door opened and Rora, dressed to work out, was waiting.  

"I'm ready to talk."  She said to him as he came out of the house.  "But I'd rather listen first.  So... if have anything to add to what you said on the plane yesterday, I'd like to listen while we take a little walk.  We don't have to go far but... I'm a bit restless."

Gavin rose and blinked. Aurora had caught him in the chair again. For the first time in her life, she was consistently waking up earlier than him. He sighed, remembering early morning feedings with her, then his bare feet sank into the carpet of the living room. He walked his daughter outside, not stopping to put on shoes. They walked together for a while, watching the sun rise.

"I don't have much to add. This Volkov needs to die. He's good, but no one's immortal. I think the best move is for you, Will, and Billy to turtle up and protect yourself while Tara and I go to Moscow."

"To be honest, if it was a year ago I'd want you to come with us. You're good, Aurora. In some ways, you're better than me right now. You can certainly go for longer before you run out of gas. So if it was a year ago... I'd want you there with me, just in case. Who could beat the two of us?"

Gavin shrugged.

"But I'm not exactly ready for a nursing home yet. I'm not as fast as I was 25 years ago, but I'm smarter. Besides, Tara doesn't even think Volkov is in Russia; she thinks he's heading here."

He grimaced.

"No, I think I'd feel better with you here, looking after Will and the kids. We'll get him back from Boston, tell the school there's been a death in the family. Tara can get a partial refund on the 50 guys she hired to keep an eye on him; they aren't in position yet, anyway, just his normal security. If Volkov does come here, I'll feel better knowing you're here. Billy too, but..."

Gavin winked.

"... he doesn't quite have the training that you do."

They walked quietly for a couple minutes; Aurora could tell Gavin wasn't done.

"And... I want Tara to stay here, when this is over. I haven't seen her like this. Ever. This experience broke her- broke who she thought she was. And honestly... I still can't believe that this could happen. If you told me she lost a battle like this, I'd believe it. Everyone can lose. But she's been completely taken apart by this... it's hard to believe."

"We're her home.  It goes without saying where we are... she comes along from now on.  No more of this lone wolf shit for any of us."  She gave him a smile, it was a poke at him, but it was also meant as a loving statement with far-reaching commentary on the dynamic between them, who he used to be, and their family at large.

She walked in silence for a while before finding where she wanted to start.

"Mavra Volkov is probably a fake name, but there has to be a tie to us.  I suspect it's to you.  I've got no connection to Russia.  If it was about something mom did then he wouldn't keep coming.  She's gone.  Nothing left to end there.  And you make a good point... he's broken Tara.  He's already won where she's concerned.  Which leaves you.  The only name that stuck out to me was the woman and my gut was screaming instantly that you must know her.  You've always told me to trust my instincts so... I'm sorry but I have to ask you this."

She stopped walking and looked at her father.  

"Do you know an Alena Petrov and if you do... who the hell is or was she to you?"