Gavin looked at his daughter for a long time- then he nodded. 

"You're right, I think. This is the way. It might have been better for us to go there immediately. If Volkov found the body and knows we have the wallet, he could have something set up for us. But even if he does... well, it's something that we forced him to react to. And if you're really lucky... well, maybe you're right and we find some family member. Either way, it's a hell of a lot better than walking into the death bar."

Gavin quickly woke up Tara and caught her up. Both he and Aurora could sense Tara wanting to punish or reproach herself for forgetting the wallet, but they quickly dragged her out of the past and threw her mind toward the future. 

"How would you approach it?" asked Gavin.

"I think all three of us should go," replied Tara, "as Aurora said earlier, splitting up seems more foolhardy. But what you said earlier, Gavin, about Volkov perhaps setting up a trap for us... I think we should go cautiously. Walk in with the hope of finding a source of information... but have your hand on your gun. Even if we've forced him to throw some sort of trap together, we could still get information from it."

Tara looked at Aurora.

"Anything else you can think of? Would you want to try to go now? We're exhausted, but maybe the darkness helps us sneak in? Or we could wait to get some rest, try in the morning. It might be harder to get in unseen during the daytime, but it's also easier to get away. I don't like the idea of trying to navigate an escape in the middle of the night."

"Sleep."  She nodded and walked over to her father, putting a hand on his shoulder.  "For real this time?"  She leaned down and kissed his cheek.  And then went back to her bed.  For a moment she hesitated and then... she went down to her knees beside the bed in the way her mother used to, the way Billy did every night.  She felt stupid, after a fashion, knowing her father was watching and how he felt about God - but God had brought Billy back to her once before and maybe he could give her the means to do it again.  In any case, she didn't see any fucking harm in it.

Softly she recited a prayer she hadn't said in years and crossed herself before rising and slipping between the blankets, not bothering to look in Tara or Gavin's direction.  She really didn't give a fuck what they chose to think about her decision to talk to an imaginary man in the clouds - so long as it meant she'd be reunited with Billy and the kids soon.  AND... with any luck at all, when her work on the earth was finally done, maybe with her mother too.

Aurora closed her eyes and let the black abyss of dreamless sleep drag her away from the waking world once more.  This time, much faster than the last time.  

The apartment complex that Vasily Kuralenkov had lived in seemed as nondescript and normal as the one that had housed Alena Petrov. Gavin, Aurora, and Tara circled the building like a pack of wolves in their rented car. They quietly discussed their next move. A brief check on Vasily Kuralenkov’s body revealed that someone had taken it- but it was unclear whether it was Volkov or the cops.

As they circled the building, Aurora reasserted her goals and concerns: to hopefully leverage the family or friends of the victim as allies. If there wasn’t anyone there, perhaps something in the apartment could provide a clue.

Not seeing any obvious security or suspicious looking people, they made their way inside. Gavin insisted that they enter the building in a staggered fashion over the period of a few minutes; anyone looking out a window wouldn’t notice a group of three walking in together.

There were ten apartments on each floor, taking up both sides of the hallway. Gavin, Tara, and Aurora quietly made their way towards the one that had been on Kuralenkov’s ID.

Because she could speak Russian, it was certainly prudent for Tara to approach first, contrary to everything her training told her.  Tara was the most likely to take a bullet and fall from it. Yet, if she knocked or her Dad knocked and someone came to the door who they hoped to leverage help from… what would they do?  Someone who could speak to them had to be first. That meant Tara had to, regrettably, take point.

That was Aurora’s thoughts at least, and she voiced them to her father and Tara hoping one of them had a better plan, but thinking it was unlikely at this point.  Gavin, she suspected, would be next to follow because it was his sister being put in the crosshairs and Aurora would bring up the rear this time.

She wasn’t any good with people anyway, at least that was how she saw it.  More than likely she’d just mess things up for Tara in some way she didn’t really understand until it was too late.  Her eyes had been good so far, why stray from what seemed to be working?

Tara moved up to smile and knock on the door as Gavin and Aurora scanned the hallway. As a young woman who’d obviously been crying answered the door at Kuralenkov’s place, Aurora noticed someone watching from the door peephole of the apartment across the hall.

Aurora caught Gavin’s eyes, nodded towards the door but held up a hand as if to indicate she’d like to wait.  She arched an eyebrow and then absently wondered, would he be able to see it? Was his eye that fucked up? She really didn’t know how bad the damn thing was right now.  She hadn't asked. She watched his expression to see if he happened to notice what she did.

Gavin nodded in a way that could be interpreted as a normal bob of the head.

Tara had a quick exchange with the younger woman in Russian.

“Good morning,” Tara offered in perfect Russian, accompanied by a sad smile, “I was hoping to speak to you alone about Vasily Kuralenkov.”

“He is dead,” muttered the Russian woman, “what is there to speak about?”

“That is best said privately.”

The woman stepped back and let Tara walk past her. Aurora followed, giving Gavin a hand signal that he should wait outside, so as not to intimidate the young woman.  She came up beside her Aunt and smiled at the other woman, though it was not overly friendly it was meant to help reassure her.

As they enter she talks softly to Tara, “This isn’t about us.  This is about her. If mom were here that’s what she’d say and she’d be right.  If we want her to understand, if she can help at all, it’ll only come if you’re here to help her first and foremost.  Talk to her. Be of help. If you get stuck for ideas… I’m here. I’ll be clueless to what’s said, but I’m here. Watching.”

Tara whispered back as they walked in, “She won’t look at me, but she’s making eye contact with you. You’re younger- seem around the same age. You sit in front and speak to her; I’ll translate. If anything, you being American would seem to empower you to avenge her, rather than the opposite.”

As the young woman led them through the house toward the dining room table, Tara left the seat directly next to the woman open for Aurora, hoping her niece would sit there: it was better than sitting across from the table adversarially.

Aurora sat down next to the woman and tried to look her in the eyes, seeing if she could exchange glances with the woman in a way Tara seemed to be failing.  She wanted to get a feel for how the woman regarded her. She wasn’t as strong at this skill as her brother and father, but she’d been at a poker table often enough to know a thing or two about reading people.

The young woman looked up at her, and Aurora could tell that the woman was afraid.

“What do you want?” she asked through Tara. Thus a strange conversation began for Aurora, as she made eye contact with a woman whose words came from her aunt’s mouth over her shoulder, even as Aurora’s words were twisted and hammered into Russia before they reached their target. Tara soon lost the ability to offer advice or thoughts; all she could do was act as the processor of language, struggling to keep up with the words, only able to influence things through the connotation of what she translated.

Without prompting from Aurora, Tara smiled and asked, “What is your name?”

“Anya.”

Aurora reached into the inside breast pocket of her leather jacket, letting the woman see what she was doing very obviously - a small zippered pocket, from which she produced a small pile of photos that would normally be kept in a wallet.  Aurora didn’t think that anything would speak louder than the photos she kept over her heart. Billy. Brigitte. Little Gavin’s first photo, fresh from the hospital.

“Hello Anya.”  She said offering the photos to the other woman.  “I’m Aurora. Tell her this is my family.” she pointed to each and said their names with all the emotion she felt for each.  THIS was the only hope she had. That something of humanity would connect them where Aurora feared her natural charm might lack.  If the woman feared her, perhaps seeing a wife and mother before her and not a killer would calm her.

Anya looked at the pictures quickly, nodding before looking up with curiosity.

“Ask her if she knows why I’m here.”

Anya nodded, started to say something, but kept her mouth shut.

Aurora sighed and put the photos back.  “Ask her if she is afraid of someone other than us, and if she will accept our help.”

When asked what she was afraid of, Rora recognized one word before Tara translated it: “Volk.”

“You do not understand,” translated Tara, “he will kill me. I cannot help you.”

“Did he tell you we would come?”  Aurora asked.

Anya froze, seemingly unsure of what to do, before she glanced at the pictures in Aurora’s hand. She nodded almost imperceptibly, even as she said, “I cannot tell you anything. He will kill me.”

There was a long pause as Anya’s eyes moved around the room. Tara removed a small notepad from her pocket and scribbled on it, passing it back and forth for a bit before sliding it to Aurora.

Are you afraid of being overheard? Yes.

 

Are they around here? Yes.

 

Do you know where, exactly? Yes. Apartment across hall.

Tara slid the notepad to Aurora, motioning that she should write down anything else they wanted to ask. As Aurora read and potentially wrote, Tara filled the silence with questions about Vasily: where was he born? How many siblings? Was he in the military? “Yes.” Were they married? “No.”. When was the last time she’d seen him? Was there anything in the house that could help them find the men who’d done this? “No. He will kill me.”

Aurora looked around the room, the walls.  The woman is young but Russia wasn’t the States.  And, arguably, she herself was young and she’d had a family very young - if this woman has a family with the man she suspected the evidence of it was in this room.  Volkov didn’t have time or care to hide it surely.

If there was a family beyond this woman, perhaps it was them she feared for.  Volkov might be the sort of man who would hold children or siblings hostage. They could be in danger depending on Aurora’s choices, and while she wanted to protect her own family she couldn’t shake the idea that she had to do what she came into this building to do.  If it was possible she was going to help this woman. If Volkov was across the hall, feet from where her father was standing now, they could get to him. They could kill him, but she had to know what the collateral damage might be. She had to know what tools he might use to delay and distract them.  This man hadn’t lived this long or been this successful without thinking of contingencies.

Also… the window in this room.  She made note of the location of windows and tried to spot anyone positioned to take a shot on this young woman from across the way.  Likely Volkov wouldn’t leave her unwatched… both for his own sick twisted joy and to make sure she could be silenced if needed. All of these observations took seconds and then, she wrote onto the paper and passed it back to Tara.

‘He’s here.  Not in U.S. Thank God.  Dad knows where they are across the way.  We give a signal and he’s moving… but they may have someone with them.  Do they have a child? A ward? Elderly parent? Anyone they cared for here in the home with them?’

Tara wrote down, “Do they threaten anyone close to you to force you to cooperate?”

“No”, wrote Anya, “but they told me what would happen to me if I told anyone anything about Vasily or the people he worked with.”

After a long pause, Anya wrote and Tara translated, “Please- leave. I will be okay, but only if you leave soon. The longer you are here the worse it looks for me.”

‘He’s going to kill her in any case.  The longer we stay, the more men he has on us.  She’s bait in the trap. We need to go. Thank her and tell her I will pray for her.’

Aurora stood up and nodded to Anya.

The young Russian woman offered a nervous smile as she glanced toward her door.

“Fuck dad for not learning another language…”  She muttered, wondering how to give him a heads up before they could get to him.  “Stay out of the line of the door across the hall.” she whispered.

She drew a breath, she knew damn well they might just shoot first - it’s what she would do, but she had to exit the room eventually.  She reached out and opened the door, using her other hand to urge Tara behind and out of the direct line of fire should they open fire on the opening door.

Not hearing anything, Aurora exited, purposefully standing between Tara and the door - looking to Gavin.  Meeting his eyes she looked towards the door without turning her head. She was going to stand here until her Aunt exited and was safely out of the line of fire.  Then… she’d move. With luck, she’d get in just like last time. Two shots, to the man with the gun who was no doubt waiting. Her dad, if he was still quick, would be there to take the second.

As she did before, Aurora took two quick steps and launched herself in the air; she had a strange feeling of deja vu as she felt the door slam against someone’s skull. Gavin was right behind her, and the next four seconds proceeded in slow motion for the Byrnes.

There were five men in the room: one had been knocked on his back by Aurora and had his hands on his face to try to stop a broken nose; three others, looking older than the other men they’d seen, were standing around the fifth man, who was gagged and tied to a chair in the center of the room. The fifth man was obviously worse for wear; one whole side of his face was a mess of bruises.

The three older men were stunned into inaction; they raised their guns towards Gavin and Aurora, but the two Byrnes combined to put them down quickly- narrowly missing the fifth man in the chair at least once. Assessing the situation with a scowl, Gavin put two rounds into the man on the floor and growled, “If this is anything like last time, there’s more. We should move fast. Grab him and go?”

“It’s a trap.  Grab him. We don’t have any other plays here.  We need information and I got nothing else and we have no time.”  Aurora glared at the man in the chair, still contemplating putting two slugs in his skull and running back to get the girl she knew deserved a chance to live where as this guy… whoever the fuck he was, Volkov wanted her to take and she was again taking every breadcrumb he left behind and it galled her no fucking end.

Gavin untied the man from the chair, but left his hands bound as he lifted him roughly to his feet and moved toward the hallway. Gavin walked first, keeping the man in front of him like a human shield. Tara followed behind him as they proceeded down the rear stairwell toward where they’d stashed their car.

In the hallway, Aurora resumed protecting Tara as they moved, watching the rear of the group for anyone coming up from behind.

Cautiously moving outside toward the car, Gavin tossed the man in the backseat and climbed in with him. Tara took shotgun, mostly to navigate and read street signs, leaving Aurora to drive.

As they pulled out, they could hear shouting from the front of the building, but as Aurora hit the gas, they seemingly left any trouble behind them.

“Search him.”  She told her Dad, worried he had something on him that might yet prove to be a threat - after all, hadn’t they just planned the same damn thing with thoughts of going to the death bar?

Gavin glared at the man as he rummaged through his pockets and checked all the places where he’d hidden things to make trouble in the past. “Seems clean,” he said.

Aurora kept her eyes on the road and her ears open for Tara’s instructions as well as possible hints of danger from inside and outside the car.

As Aurora drove down the street, she noticed a pair of black sedans rapidly approaching her, heading towards the apartment complex they’d just exited. She was close enough to see them pull over to the curb and a half dozen men exit and storm into the building. 

“I’m sorry Anya.”  she said sadly.  She kept her eyes ahead, trying not to think too much about the poor woman who wasn’t much younger than herself alone in that hellhole with no one there to help her.  Maybe Volkov’s men would let her live.  Maybe.  Aurora doubted it though.  

She sighed. “Maybe we ask this guy his name?  Why he was in the room?  What Volkov wants with him… not that I think he’ll tell us the truth.”

Gavin leaned over and removed from cloth gag from the man’s mouth. He kept his gun out as he did so as a warning to the man, who may or may not have been a prisoner of the thugs upstairs… Gavin shared Aurora’s skepticism here… but was certainly their prisoner now. At a stoplight, Aurora scanned his appearance in the rearview mirror. The man seemed to be in excellent physical condition, other than the bruises on his face. She could see his muscular build naturally straining against the ropes that wound about his arms and chest. He had dark brown hair, cropped short, light blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and a strong jawline. When the gag was removed he took a few deep breaths, before passably communicating in English.

“Tell truth. I will. Please, do not hurt me.”

“Who are you?”  Aurora asked from the front seat, waiting for a chance to pull out into the intersection.

“Anton Belov. Soldier. No- mercenary. In Волчья стая…. Wolf pack. You know?”

“No,” said Gavin, “but you’re going to tell us. Everything. From the beginning.”

“The whole story is great… but right now, based on what we know, you might not have that long before Volkov’s men are on us.  So… why the fuck were they holding you in that room like a gift for us to take with us?  Why did Volkov want you to come with us?”

The man’s eyes widened in surprise and fear. “No gift. Volkov say to kill Americans… this is normal. Volkov say to kill Anya Zakharov when she is done speaking to Americans. This is wrong. I spoke to Volkov and tried to get him to change his mind. He hit me, had me tied up. That is truth, please.”

“You were with Volkov this whole time - this bastard has killed lots of people, why now?  Why today?  What changed your mind at this particular moment?”  She shook her head.

“Before, Volkov take jobs. This is good. Volkov and I serve together. In Army. Fighting- what we know. We work jobs, fight. But kill bad people or foreigners. Anya Zakharov engaged to Vasily. Former soldier. One of Wolf Pack. This… different. We maybe kill women before. But never friend’s woman, comrade’s woman.”

Aurora gripped the wheel tighter and in Italian, she prattled off, “It’s what we’d say.  Loyalty to family.  Cosa Nostra ideals.  Protect women.  I don’t know if I can trust this guy…”

Tara responded in Italian as well, “I agree that caution is best; however, It’s also what the Bratva would say.”

Continuing in Italian, “You’ll want to believe him … Dad won’t trust him…” She shook her head and looked at the man in the backseat through the rearview mirror wondering if he could understand Italian for the first time, watching him for signs of understanding.  

Breathing to calm himself and looking nervously at Gavin, the man didn’t appear to be listening.

Tara responded in Italian, dropping her voice so she couldn’t be overheard either way, “I haven’t made up my mind yet. In situations in the past, I’ve had to worry about getting infiltrated. Other than Francis, I was usually very good at catching out potential moles. There are ways we could test him. I used to offer my people an advantage. A calculated risk to see how they’d react. I did it with everyone, but particularly with potential moles. Give them a false piece of information too good not to share. We could leave this guy an empty gun with no bullets- or something similar. Some sort of test. At the very least, we can pump him for all the information he has and cut him loose. Or bury him.”

“No.”  She said in English.  She looked in the rearview mirror at the man again.  “We’ll take you somewhere to talk.  Neutral to us and ideally you too.  Hopefully we lose any tail we got, if they had enough sense to use you as bait.  I don’t know if I’m willing to gamble the lives of my family on your story… Anton, was it?  However, I’m not in the fucking business of shooting men for anything less than a certainty if I can help it.  So, for the moment, let’s assume it’s possible we all walk away from this as friends… assuming, again, that Volkov doesn’t catch up to us first.”

Anton nodded.

“That said… yesterday I tried to call my family in the States.  You’re Volkov’s friend… I need a show of good faith.  What the fuck happened back there?  And don’t tell me you don’t know and it wasn’t Volkov because I know damn well it was.  Anything less than him and my husband would have left someone to answer the phone.  Are they alive?”

Anton nervously glanced between Gavin and Aurora’s face in the rearview mirror.

“Andrei. Volkov’s driver and… fixer. He attacked a house in Las Vegas- but he was killed. Several people in the house died, but none of the targets that Volkov wanted.”

Aurora drew a shuddering breath.  “Did you know I have children?  A newborn son?”

Anton stared at the rearview mirror, scrutinizing Aurora. “No. I know you are a Byrne. Aurora Byrne. You and others, I know, come to kill Volkov. I know you are… well… I was told you are bad people. You kill many who do not deserve it, women and children, increase your own power… that you were coming to kill Volkov. I am not saying you are bad people,” he looked nervously at Gavin, whose finger being off the trigger was a remarkable exercise in self-restraint, “I am just saying what Volkov told us. I… children should be protected. Women, too. That is our way. At least, was.”

Aurora stared back at Anton.  “I’ve never been to Russia.”  She said to him.  “I don’t know Volkov.  I have all the money I could ever want and oceans of blood behind that money… the blood of people I love and I’d trade every penny to get back.  For what it’s worth, whether you believe me or not, right now the only thing I want is to be able to be at home nursing my newborn son… instead, I’m here driving through the streets of a city I don’t know…”

Anton paused as he listened. Had her words struck him and started to persuade him? Or was it a calculation?

“Not know Volkov?” questioned Anton, “He said Byrnes destroy his family. That they were coming for him to finish killing his family.”

“Volkov has spent years destroying my Aunt’s empire in Europe… that I could take as business.  No offense Aunt Tara but I don’t give a rats ass about what you built here.  I care about this family.  The people, and if it weren’t for Volkov coming after the people I love - Anton - I wouldn’t be here at all.  He sent people to my home, the place I sleep with my husband, the place where my children play… if he was so scared of us, so worried, why take years dismantling my Aunt’s empire rather than just coming to put a bullet in the heads of the family’s best assassins?”

Anton shook his head emphatically, “Volkov not scared.” He glanced straight ahead to where Tara was sitting, having picked up the name. “Tara Byrne? Volkov fought to diminish power of Byrne family so they could not hunt him, is what he said. Said Tara Byrne hunted him.”

Aurora kept driving, never going near the basement, staying far from it.  Not knowing where she was going, just knowing she did not dare stop.  “Volkov isn’t his real name.  Did he give it to you at any point?”

“Not real name,” confirmed Anton, “but only name. Met him in army. Only Volkov. Common name in Russia, though he went by ‘The Wolf’- not common. At first, we laugh at him. Who names self ‘The Wolf’? Sergeants mocked name. Soon… no mock. No one mock.”

“Tell me about how we took out his family.  A story like that doesn’t stay hidden if he uses it to motivate people.  What did we do?  Help me understand.”

Anton shook his head, saying, “I do not know. He never say. Not whole story. Just Byrnes destroy family. Kill family. Byrnes bad people, animals.” He looked nervously at Gavin again. “Someday, he would say, get revenge. Formed Wolf Pack. Took jobs. Last two years… we fight Byrnes. Mostly Byrnes.”

“You know where he’s from?”

“Moscow. Do not know address, location. Never went back from army. Only thing… family own bar. He took Wolf Pack there. Three times. All celebrates.”

She shook her head.  “I didn’t think he would if they were dead.  Just… thought the location might help us narrow down the truth of his story.  You gotta understand, from where I’m sitting it’s not impossible to think we might have hurt his family.  We’re not good people.  I can’t speak to the idea of whether or not I’d end up in Heaven or Hell if I died today.  Probably don’t really qualify for seating at the pearly gates and I’ve got a lot less work under my belt than some of my family.”  

Anton listened intently.

She glanced at her father, but continued.  “We’ve killed people.  I can’t say that everyone in this car could name all the people they’ve killed if they had to.  Whether directly or by orders given… so is it possible that some action this family took created a man like Volkov… yes, it’s possible.  The question now is - at what point does this end?  You see, for us - from our perspective, Volkov has come at us.  We are the ones left wondering why, trying to understand, and responding to what feel like unprovoked attacks.  It’s why I’m here.  I’m just a mom… I’m barely ‘in’ as we’d say it in America.  I’ve lost almost everyone I love in the last two months and I just wanted to sit back and enjoy a little time with my family before Volkov showed up on the radar.”

“So… perspective being what it is, he’s the monster and from what I’ve seen, he’s got no intention of ending this without all of us being in a grave regardless of our involvement in the wrongs done to him.  And… speaking as someone who has lost a lot of folks, I empathize.  I really do.  If I’m being honest, I get that need… and I face it everyday.  Unlike Volkov, I don’t have the ability to bring hell on the people who took from me.  So… here we are.  You.  Us.  Lots of half-stories and still no closer to stopping Volkov.  And, if you’re not lying, I think you rather need us to do that at this point.  If you’re not lying to us, you have to know that you’re a dead man now.”

Anton nodded slowly.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about that.”  She drew a breath and looked for a place to pull the car into - somewhere she felt was out of sight of the main road, somewhere they could talk facing one another and she didn’t have to fear crashing the car.  Now, she was ready to talk about next moves.  

“Just the same, I can’t rest until this is done.  My children will never be safe.  I can’t live that way.  I won’t.  And since I doubt he’ll stop for anything short of Vendetta, this is most likely going to come down to a fight. He must know that, so why not be done with it?  It appears, from where we’re sitting that he gets great joy out of tormenting us.  You must have seen this?”

Anton pursed his lips, then nodded. “Yes. All times celebrate at family bar were victories against Byrnes. Moscow. Istanbul. Sicily..”

Tara’s grip tightened on the armrest as Gavin’s tightened on his gun.

“Last night then?”  She asked, arching an eyebrow.

Anton shook his head.”No.”

She nodded and pulled the car into an alleyway with an exit out both sides.  She figured both Dad and Tara were needing air as much as she was.  She put the car in park and looked to Tara.  “Stretch your legs a second, we won’t stay long.”

She turned around in her seat to look at Anton.  Her amber eyes searching his gaze as if it would tell her something she hadn’t already heard in his voice.  She looked to her father and pulled out one of her guns.  “I got this.  Don’t go far.  She needs you.”  She didn’t say, ‘You need her’ but it was implied.  Where Sicily was concerned, it had been deeply personal to both of them.  Aurora knew this and she wanted to have a moment alone with Anton.

Gavin’s expression protested that he was fine, but one glance at his daughter managed to communicate that even though she knew he could handle it she still wanted him to go. With a sigh, he exited the car.

Her voice quiet she suggested, “Best you not talk about Sicily or Stella again.  I can’t save you from that shit.”

Anton looked confused, but he nodded with a grateful expression on his face. As a way of explanation, he said, “Volkov went alone, almost all these things. No Wolf Pack.” He glanced out the rear window at Gavin, as if to make sure there wasn’t a gun pointed at his head.

“Real wolves don’t hunt alone, and if they do, they’re intending to die. Maybe Volkov wants that… if he’s lost his family, maybe he’s hoping we’d finish it.  I know I miss…”  She stopped herself.  “I miss people.  Sometimes pretty bad, bad enough for some pretty dark thoughts, but I have a lot of reasons to keep pushing through the tough times.  I feel bad for Volkov that he doesn’t, that his pack isn’t enough for him… that he can’t see the family he’s built and know that family is more than a weapon.”

She drew a breath.

Anton said nothing, but listened carefully as he studied her eyes.

“My father, a long time ago, rescued my mother from men who wanted her dead.  Corrupt government agents who used local police and the prisons to … well, it’s a long story.  Suffice to say he did the most insane things to get her back.  It was a fantastic story when I was a little girl and it made me want to be just like him.  My whole life has been spent running two steps behind that man, trying to catch him, to surpass him.”

Something in Anton’s eyes changed, although it was hard to say what it was, precisely. He cleared his throat, “That is very different, from the Volkov stories about Gavin Byrne. For Volkov, Gavin Byrne is devil.”

Aurora chuckled, “I don’t think Volkov knows the man I do.  The wolf I know is a predator, yes, he’s killed… innocent and guilty alike I think.  I can not fairly judge him because to me he’ll always be the man who carried me on his shoulders, and kissed my cuts.  He’ll always be the man who …”  She stopped herself.  “He’ll always be my dad.  And nothing I can say to you about the good person he truly is, the man who would leave behind the life of murder for hire to raise two kids, is ever going to convince you not to be afraid of him.  That’s something, if you live long enough, you’ll have a chance to learn yourself.”

“You see, I suppose this ends two ways really.  You’re probably thinking about that a lot just now.  Stopped in an alleyway you’re probably thinking that I pulled over to end this?”  She arched an eyebrow waiting for his reaction.

Anton stared back. He seemed nervous, and he cleared his throat. “It has crossed the mind. I wonder why you tell me such personal things. Perhaps because it does not matter what I hear.”

“What did Volkov tell you about me, I wonder?”  She reached into her coat with her free hand and pulled out the photos again and put them on his knees to stare at.  “The cold-blooded lioness… who carries photos of her children with her?  Maybe he told you how tough I am and the number and names of the men I’ve killed?  Maybe… but I suspect if he hates and fears my father so much, that he maybe just mentioned I am loyal to my father and would avenge him and so must be stopped.”  

Anton steadied his muscular legs as Aurora reached back to put the pictures on him. As she turned, seeing him for the first time without looking through the mirror, her eyes were drawn to the bruises on his face.

“Volkov said you were dangerous.” He paused.

“I am.”  She replied simply.

“I know,” said Anton simply, “I have seen. If you did not have good aim, I would not be here. He did not know as much about you. Mostly, he talked about Gavin Byrne. He said you are most like him. He said it as a warning.” 

“He doesn’t know because he did not want to - his mission is one of vanity and he’s roped you all into it.  He takes my father’s name: Wolf.  Gavin got that name because of his ferocity in protecting his family… not self-given, but given to him by men who respected his dedication to protecting those he loved.”

“Volkov spoke of your father very differently,” Anton paused, pursing his lips. 

“Look at him now, see how he talks to her.  How he hovers.  He’s not touching her… but you know a man who loves a dear sister.  The way he holds himself, how he watches… not for an enemy he can shoot but for a bullet that might take her from him.”

“I have known many men who kiss their children goodnight, hiding bloody hands behind their backs. And I have known men to change. Does this absolve them from their past?”

She nodded.  “Me too.  It doesn’t make them bad men who kill good people though.  It just means they’re bad men… or, foolish men.  As for their pasts and absolution, I leave that to priests.  I’m just... a mom.  A mom who knows how to use a gun and one who is willing to die for her family if it becomes necessary.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.  I like to think the man my father became is the same.  What he was before… I can’t say.  Maybe he wronged Volkov, maybe it’s not about vanity at all… but you know Volkov as well as one can.  Do you think he’s a vain man? Do you think he’s taking pleasure in the hunt?  Or is this really about his family?  You tell me.”

“He is the hunter,” said Anton. “I have worked with many men, soldiers, mercenaries, assassins. He takes pleasure in the hunt, yes. But… as for what is truly in his heart… how can I say? It is hard to really know someone like that. He has his mission, has always had it.”

“I believe you, Anton.”  she said softly.  “I think you don’t know the truth.  Not about my Dad or Volkov.  I think you decided something today based on Volkov and you didn’t have a choice but to come with us and if you had… you wouldn’t have.  Is that true?”

“What do you mean?” asked Anton.

“In that room.  If we had cut you loose, would you have run off on your own or followed us out?  Would you have tried to kill us or just… get away?”

Anton was quiet for a while. “Honest. If you had cut me loose, that moment, I run away on my own. Why would I run with you? You are enemy, I would think, and Gavin Byrne… all I hear of Gavin Byrne is that he is devil. Evil man, even among evil men. Why go with him? But if you free me, let me run, then I do not shoot you. Even before talk. All this.”

She glanced down at his legs still holding her family up from the floor of the backseat, protecting them from falling into the dirt at his feet.  She looked back to his eyes after only half a tick.

“But why ask in that room? I think you ask ‘what now?”

“I already know what I’m going to do now, Anton.  I’ve known since I pulled into this alleyway.  I just wanted to see who you were first.  I wanted to talk to you.  I needed to know for sure that I hadn’t made a mistake.  My mother once let a man live and it had nearly cost her everything and that story has been a cautionary tale that has never left me… that compassion is sometimes rewarded with betrayal.  That mercy is returned sometimes with hatred and fear.  Even when we mean to be the best person we can be in a tough situation, sometimes… well, you can only ever decide who you are in this life.  You can’t make other people be anything but what they chose to be.”  She glanced at Gavin, “He taught me that.”

Anton seemed to grow very still- tensed.

Aurora put her gun away and picked up her family from Anton’s lap and returned them to the place over her heart.  “Do you know where you will go now?  Do you have a way out of Russia, somewhere that Volkov won’t look?”
Anton took a series of measured breaths, studying Aurora’s amber eyes with interest.

“Honest. Again. I am more confused now than I have been… years.”

“Everything I am…. Is everything those people made me.  I am getting you out of Volkov’s reach now because no man deserves death for standing up for the defenseless - for integrity and loyalty to your family.”  

Anton gestured back with his head toward the Byrne twins.

“And them? Gavin Byrne? They agree with this?”

“You presume one of them is in charge?”  She arched an eyebrow.

“No. I presume that people do not always follow orders. I know this.” He tilted his bruised face.

She smiled ever so slightly.  “Well, it’s good you don’t make assumptions.  And no, I won’t order them to do anything.  Truth is you’re not going to be useful to them and we’d never be able to trust you with a gun at our backs so long as Volkov is alive.  You were the last good lead we had, the last breadcrumbs to follow - well, without putting screws to Anya but I wasn’t willing to do that.  She’s a sweet girl.  She had nothing to do with any of this and I hated to leave her for Volkov to kill but I figured if we waited a moment more we’d be joining her in body bags.”  She sighed, clearly bothered by the idea of the girl being killed.  

“Our next step is probably obvious to Volkov.  If he knew we’d go to Vasiliy’s place then he already has plans for our final stop.  We’ll be walking right into a trap… it’s not likely we’ll all survive it and I can’t possibly convince them that we could trust you with us so… what other choice do we have?  Murder you?  It’s possible.  But honestly, I’d rather save the bullet for a man who deserves it.  We don’t have unlimited ammo after all.”  She smirked, almost making a joke about how fucked they were.

Anton sat, thoughtful, listening to Aurora speak. After she was finished, he met her eyes, “You said first ‘trust you with a gun at our backs’, second just ‘trust you’. For whatever reason, you choose to believe me. Would you trust me with no gun, in front of you? Let me speak to others.” He gestured back toward Gavin and Tara. “I… perhaps they also trust.”

Anton grew pensive, and Aurora could sense it; she let him process. Eventually, he said, “There is a bad man. Very bad man. Works with Volkov. Not so much now. But still, some of time. I tell you where he is, I help. Earlier I ask about absolution. You say only priests. I say, all men must absolve. This, I absolve. Then, leave Russia. Yes?”

Aurora nodded.  “Stay put.  I can tell how strong you are.  I think if you wanted you’d be out of those ropes by now, but it wouldn’t go well for you if you did.  Just… please.  For me?” She arched an eyebrow and smirked.  

Anton nodded.

Aurora slid across the seat and out the door.  

_______

Outside the car, Gavin and Tara were quiet for a long, long time. Eventually, their shared anger seeped out of them into the alley. It was Gavin who broke the silence with a sigh.

“Well,” he said, “looks like she’s trying the old Bella special. Literally talking him to death…”

Despite the fleeting thoughts of Sicily, Tara smirked. They stayed quiet for another three or four minutes.

“I don’t trust him,” said Tara.

Gavin nodded slowly. “I… do.”

They both paused again; they were interrupted by Aurora opening the car door. They both waited for a gunshot. When it didn’t happen, they slowly walked back to the car.
 

Anton had been blindfolded by Gavin as they started driving back toward the basement. Trusting him not to kill them was one thing, but basic operational security was another. He also wanted to study the Russian's reaction; would there be that flash of frustration in his eyes? But Anton submitted demurely to the blindfold, and he also readily agreed to any confinement. Gavin, a scowl on his face, walked the blindfolded man into the basement. What he most wanted to do was to speak privately to Aurora. But... where to stash Anton? The bathroom would be the best solution for the short term, but it'd be a pain in the ass to have to unchain him every time someone had to take a leak. Deciding that Tara's room would be the best short term solution, Gavin attached the handcuffs to the table in the living area. If he did try to escape, Anton couldn't slip them off- and the table would obviously make him unwieldy.

For the short term, it would work.

There hadn't been much time to talk in the car, as Aurora had driven them back. Instead, the car ride had concluded with thoughtful silence.

"So...", began Gavin, who looked with interest between his daughter and Anton.

"Kirill Ivanov," Anton quietly said, "is the man I was speaking to you about in the car, Aurora Byrne. Many men kill for reasons: money, power, revenge, safety... Ivanov kill for pleasure. An evil man, even among evil men, as I said. He is main link between Volkov and the Bratva. If he dies, you isolate Volkov and Wolf Pack. No more cars of reinforcements. Fewer resources. You kill Ivanov, is my absolution. But- must do in two nights."

"And why," questioned Gavin with a raised eyebrow, "would that be?

"Every четверг- Thursday," explained Anton, "Ivanov sends away wife, children. He has business meetings with his lieutenants. They have dinner, update him on business. Is tradition. Lieutenants bring some men each, too many to fight. After Lieutenants leave, Ivanov wife, children don't come back. Ivanov sometimes drunk. Some guards, not many. Get in, kill Ivanov. Get out. Could have information for you."

Anton looked at Aurora.

As turns of events went, Anton was strange.  She was thankful for his words that seemed to promise Billy was alive and yet, on some level she knew he could be lying.  He could be telling her whatever she wanted to hear to lull her into a sense of trust so that he could, inevitably, lead them into Volkov's worst and final trap.  And yet, what choice did they have?  Walk into the death bar and hope for the best?  Was that really better than tossing the dice on this guy and her gut which told her she could believe him?

Dice.

Her mind wandered to Billy again.  She imagined him sitting in some cabin on the Seattle coastline, teaching Brigitte the basics of some dice game because what else did they have but time for her to learn?  Between Will and his poker and Billy's dice games, the girl would be the absolute worst sort of gambler by the time they were all reunited.

Gavin looked at her and then to Anton and as Anton began to vocalize his plan, Aurora found herself pulled back into the moment.  She watched her father watching the two of them and wondered at what he must be thinking - about Anton and about her decision to trust him.  When Aton finished and looked to her she felt the eyes of everyone in the room seeming to rest upon her.  She glanced first to Tara and then looked back to her father and lastly to Anton.

"Risk versus reward, your plan sounds pretty solid, better than some ideas we've had so far."  she glanced back to her dad, "Better than rushing headlong into the death bar at least." 

She shrugged.

"Both places could be traps, but at least with this one, there's some hope that we'll come out on top - assuming Anton here is telling the truth.  One guy, possibly drunk out of his mind, no matter how tough he is ... I like our odds.  Even if we find nothing else, the idea that we cut off Volkov from some of his Bratva resources, it's worth the risk."

She looked back to Anton, "Of course, you have to understand it's something I'd like to talk to my family about a bit more first."   Truth was, however, by bringing him to the basement, she supposed that Anton knew where she stood on the matter.

Gavin, without words, brought Anton to his feet and led him to Tara's small bedroom. "Bedroom" might have been generous, but it was one of three small areas that had at least partial wall cover in the basement, with Aurora's "bedroom" and the bathroom making up the other two. Anton was taller than Gavin and broader in the shoulders, but he allowed the older man to lead him towards Tara's room.

"Tell me, Gavin Byrne, do you agree with your daughter letting me live?"

"I've learned," said Gavin, "to trust the people that I care about."

"More than yourself?"

"Especially more than myself."

Gavin opened the pair of handcuffs and attached Anton to one of the water pipes. As he snapped it shut, the Russian studied his face carefully.

"I think you may not trust me. I am glad your daughter in charge. May I ask you  couple questions?"

Gavin sat down on Tara's bed with a sigh; he seemed bored, but he was reading the other man- just like sitting at a late night poker game.

"Sure. Not like you're going anywhere."

"Do you think a man can change? If I regret my previous actions working with Volkov, if I think now that I was wrong and want to live differently... is this possible? Or is it just a dream for evil men to tempt themselves with- that they could change?"

Gavin sat quietly for a long time.

"I think," he began slowly, "that people can change. I've seen it. It's rare, but it happens."

"And if an evil man does change, what happens to the evil he did before? Is he forgiven? Is there a debt?"

"I think it depends," said Gavin, "on what that man did before. If he stole money, he can return it. If he killed someone, though..."

"Raped? Tortured?"

The two men studied each other.

"... something like those three... well the world or some of the people may not be so ready to forgive. What you did, Anton, working with Volkov... you might be ready to turn over a new leaf. Others might not let you. But if you do want to change, start by helping my daughter."

Anton nodded slowly, thinking. He was about to open his mouth and say something else, but he was interrupted by Aurora calling to her father. Standing, Gavin flipped on the small radio in the room; it wasn't particularly loud, but the chatter would make it hard for Anton to overhear anything clearly.

He emerged from Tara's room, closing the door behind him as he walked over to sit at the table with Aurora and Tara. Gavin crossed his arms, looking at Aurora.

"I should trust him less than I do, but my gut is telling me I should believe him. Also, it's not like we have a lot of options here. We can always scout the place out that night, see if things are happening the way he says they are. Maybe set up somewhere with a scope and watch for a while. If things are going well and it seemed like he's telling the truth, we can make a move; if things give us a weird vibe, we can bolt."

Tara listened with a frown.

"I think you're probably right, but as much as you're getting good vibes, I just... don't trust him. It's obviously possible that one of the men assigned to watch over Anya rebels against orders and is restrained... but maybe I'm just too skeptical of coincidences."

"Maybe you're just over-analyzing this," said Gavin, "because you haven't caught a break against Volkov for a year and a half. We finally get lucky and win a roll of the dice, it's going to feel different. What do you think, Rora?"

Aurora stood silent a long moment, her eyes glassy and thoughtful. After some time she finally spoke.

"What do I think?  You mean what do I fear?"  She sat down, putting the weight of her upper body on to her elbows resting on her knees.  Hands clasped in front of her.  "What do I guess?"

She looked up through dark eyelashes at Gavin.

"I was never good at reading people like you and Will."  She said softly.   "If I go based on my guts here, and I'm wrong, I live every day of my life knowing a wrong guess has killed one or both of the two most important people in my life to say nothing about the rest of my family somewhere down the line.  There's a lot I can live with... guesses that kill the people I love?"

She shook her head.

"Not so much."

She looked down at the floor.

"So ... I choose instead to make the decision based on who I am and not who I hope he is, and unless either of you has a better reason than your gut feelings to do otherwise, then maybe that's all we can do?" 

She looked up at the two of them. 

"I won't shoot him or leave him chained up here while we work knowing that we might never come back - no man deserves a death like that - not even Volkov."  She said flatly.  "And I don't gather either of you are comfortable with the idea of releasing Anton out into the world until this is done?"

She looked from Gavin to Tara.

"Then that leaves one path forward and that is he comes with us.  If it's a trap we can shoot him first, but the way I see it, the bar probably is a trap too, and that's our plan B... some plan b... a place we're lovingly calling the Death Bar."  She shakes her head.  

"At least with Anton's plan we can scope out things in advance of taking action, see if we think things check out and maybe cut back the amount of danger when we finally do visit the bar.  Granted, I'm pretty sure any hope of us ever being on good terms with the Bratva goes out the damn window with gacking this guy... if what Anton says is true."  She let herself smirk, trying to be funny, she didn't expect either of her companions really gave two flying fucks about the Russian mafia.

"Anyone got any better ideas than that?"

Gavin shook his head early.

"Remember that when you talk about your guesses hurting people you love.... not guessing or action is a choice as well. If you make a decision here to trust Anton... walking into that bar was our only other lead. It's not like you're choosing for us to take a greater risk."

Gavin tapped his fingers on the table.

"Okay, then. We wait for Thursday night. We can scout a little, rest up here and hopefully let the heat die down a bit. Yea?"

He glanced at Tara, who nodded. Aurora nodded as well.

"Then get some sleep. I'll keep him chained up out here with me."

"We have a lot of time to possibly look in on this guy and find out if we believe Anton is all I'm saying... the bar isn't going anywhere.  Granted, I doubt we're going to catch the guy in the act of torture and murder and feel great about killing him, but I do put a lot of faith in Tara's ability to spot details that you and I might overlook, Dad.  I'm loathed to split us up for all the reasons I've said before... but... maybe she and I go look in on this fellow and see if we get the same feeling off him that Anton says?"

She looks to Tara, "Maybe it'll make it a little easier for you to trust him or convince me we're walking into a trap.  Either way, we have more information to go off of than just our gut feelings about a man we've known for only a few hours?"

She looked to her father, "Or if you rather, I can stay with Anton and you can go with Aunt Tara to look in on him before Thursday.  I'm capable of either but with that ding on your eye and you being pretty recognizable to some of these guys... she and I might have a better time of being overlooked... being we're just women.  We can get some local clothes, try to stay real low key, and ideally just do some basic recon work.  What do you think?"

Gavin nodded.

"No, you should see the place. And you're right," he said, "I stand out. The eye, I mean. I'll keep an eye on Anton. And there's no reason you can't take two scouting trips. Maybe you and Tara going tomorrow during the day; she'll come in handier if you need to talk to anyone. Then I'll go take a more clandestine look at night- either with you or with Tara."

He cracked his knuckles on one hand.

"Obviously, you'll want to leave the car a few blocks away so no one's tipped off... but there's a lot of people in Moscow. We should be able to take a couple looks and still fly under the radar."

Recon work. 

The thought of work, rather than sitting around waiting for Thursday to come, it actually sounded good to Aurora.  Work, in her mind, meant less time to lose herself in thoughts.  She needed something to keep busy or she felt that maybe she'd lose herself in the fears of what might have happened at The Den that night. 

The truth was that recon was more sitting and waiting.  Silent sometimes, trapped in one place with only her thoughts to keep her occupied.  Watching.  Hoping for some clue that would make her understand the situation better, to confirm or refute what Anton had told her.    

The high wrought iron fences and gates would be tough to climb, not too different from those that had protected Hollowpoint except for the spikes on their top.  Hollowpoint didn't have the spikes and in that regard it felt less like a prison compound and more like home.  Aurora watched the guards taking their turn around the mansion which was likely built early in the life of the city.  A north and south gate meant there was some different scenery through the day... but not much.

A small shack, likely with a phone inside she mused, sat just inside the gates.  The first line of defense she supposed, again, just as it had been at Hollowpoint.  So much of this place echo'd her home, the illusion of privacy in the middle of a metropolis... just like home.  Men with guns despite it being a place where children played... just like home.  It became easy to see how Volkov's stories of the Byrne family being so evil could be so easily believed.  At a glance, this family could have been them... 

There she was now, the beautiful wife. 40s?  50s?  Aurora wasn't sure.  She could have been Isabella.  Her teen son and tween daughter... reversed from she and Will but no less the same... maybe four or five years between them, again just like Will and she were.  It was chilling.  The thought that inside the house was a man Anton said was a monster... the same way he called Gavin the devil and what she could see from the outside was no more than what the men who charged Hollowpoint that day her mother died.

Aurora stared blankly at the woman and her kids, a normal day for them... just as mom's birthday had been.  Blissfully unaware that murderers watched them now.  Murderers planned to take their father from them just a few hundred yards away.  How long had they watched Hollowpoint before they came for mom?  What made them okay with it?  What would make her okay with charging into another gangster's home and killing them the very same way?

In so many ways Aurora wished she could go back in time and tell the little girl playing 'business' that she didn't want to go on a real job with her father, that on the day she finally had to, everything she loved might well be the cost.  How stupidly naive she'd been all these years to think that they were so far above the rest of this... that hell would never come knocking on the door of her Ivory Tower, that the ferryman would not eventually extract his due and that the Byrne family luck wouldn't eventually falter and ultimately fail.

She finally breathed her thoughts to Tara, "They could be us..." 

First, Tara thought she'd heard Aurora say "they could be onto us", but before she engaged in her peculiar mixture of panic and planning, she realized what her niece had actually said and exhaled.

"They are us, in many ways. The Russian equivalent, at least. Just... less of a place for women at the table. Someone like your mother or I would have been relegated to a supporting role, at best. Usually, women here are cut out of the business entirely."

She watched the car with the wife and children drive away.

"If Anton was right about them not being on here on Thursday, I'll be glad that they won't be here."

Tara sat quietly with Aurora, just watching. The guards seemed to switch spots every twenty minutes or so to keep them alert, and they saw new personnel replace them at least once in the few hours that they were there. Tara took a deep breath.

"I'm proud of you, Aurora. I don't know what the future holds for you... but I'm very proud of you. You've done well- here in Russia, yes- but on the whole, as well. I think your mother would be very proud, too."

Aurora reached across the seat and took her Aunt's hand and gave it a squeeze. 

"I spend a lot of time since mom ..."  she drew a breath.  "... thinking about the days before you left for Europe.  You were ... larger than life to me then.  I was absolutely convinced that nothing and no one was smarter and more powerful than my Aunt Tara and I was just sure the only reason you left us... that you left Race Street... was because the only thing in the world you couldn't beat was death himself - like an actual man - and it broke your heart.  The stupid things kids dream up when they lose people the love... Grandpa Jack, Uncle Will..."

She shook her head.

"I sometimes wish I had run to you that day at the docks and grabbed onto you the way I wanted, that I dropped my weight and made Dad pry me off your legs while I begged you to stay.  I wished I'd told you how much you meant to me."

She looked at her Aunt with moist eyes, "How much you still mean to me." 

She looked back at the house but kept hold of Tara's hand. 

"I know you wouldn't have stayed, but some part of me wishes I'd tried so you would have always known.  It's not just you who needed us back then... we needed you too.  Everyday.  We might have managed, but you and Dad never should have been apart so long.  You would have told him sooner what it took him years to figure out: that he and mom were both happier together than apart because what one lacked the other was heart and soul.  We could have still been a family even with Dad being right beside mom in the thick of it."

She sighed.

"They didn't need to split the difference.  They didn't start to figure that out until Ireland, I think and look... you helped in that too.  Dad needs the madness and chaos of this life because it's in his bones and all the scars on him & mom ... she needed Dad's free spirit so she could let go of all that fear inside her head and just be happy." 

For a long moment, the silence in the car had a life of its own. 

"She was happy in the end, and ... but he can't be anything other than what he is.  He'll die this way, I think; a gun in his hand and a smirk on his lips because for once... just once ... Mom's gonna finally be right about something.  The best thing.  And it'll all be a great joke to him when he sees her waiting for him."

She drew a shuddering breath but she smiled a genuine smile, her voice whisper soft, "I'm just not ready to say goodbye to either of you.  So... if you got one more impossible win left in you ... if we could make it through this together, all of us, I'd really appreciate it."

She cleared her throat and took her hand back.

"We should probably head back and switch up.  Find out if Dad learned anything new after an afternoon with our Russian friend.  Who knows, maybe dad got him chatting."

Tara listened to Aurora, staring out the window as she heard and replied. 

"Maybe I shouldn't have left you at all. Maybe I never should have gotten in the life at all. When I jump into something, it's like I lose myself in it. And... if I'm being really honest with you... I did lose myself. I always expected to have a family of my own- and I do, I know- but children of my own. First, I was so taken with Jack. And then, with Will... I never felt like I was a second choice for him... I felt like it had all happened in some glorious plan. And then..."

With a wave of her hand, Tara saw the two deaths of the men she'd loved more than anyone outside her family.

"... it just disappeared. There was a police officer, once. I heard that he died a few years back, but I never confirmed it. I didn't want to. Maybe I'd have been happy there, too."

She shrugged.

"We can't control the past. I've had a wonderful, exciting life. I tried to be there for you kids growing up as best I could. I used to feel superior to Gavin, when I was jetting around Europe at the beginning of my career as an information broker; here I was on a yacht on the Mediterranean, seducing the Greek finance minister in a gown that cost more than most people make in a year... and he was home changing diapers. Now, I wonder if he was right all along."

Tara smiled at Aurora.

"I don't regret my choices. Not really. I just wonder, you know?"

"And your father... I don't know, kid. He thought he was going to die young. Every year for his birthday he'd have a drink with me, crack open a bottle of whiskey and say 'well, here's to my final year'. And here he is... he's outlived almost everyone. Who knows, maybe your father will live as long as Jack did."

Tara's hand slunk around Aurora and she kissed her niece's head.

"We're not dead yet, Rora. We've-"

Tara was about to say that they've fought through worse threats than Volkov and lived... but after living with his shadow over her for a year and half, she wasn't sure she could say that without being a lie.

"- made it through a hell of a lot in the last few decades. Don't count us out yet."

As they began driving back to their basement, Tara perked up.

"You know, I've given some thought about what happens after this. I think it's obvious my career here is over... I think I might like to start over. Teach. Harvard hired it's first female professor recently- perhaps they could use another. If not them, then I'm sure I could find a job somewhere else in Boston. How many applicants do they have that speak a dozen languages?"

Tara shrugged.

"And it'd let me stay closer to Will. If he's anything like your father at his age, well... he could use someone keeping a close eye on him."

_______

"Russian gun better. TT pistol. Very good."

"The Colt 1911 is the best gun ever made. End of story."

"Better story, TT easier to load, powerful cartridge, durable. Is better."

"Is not better. And if this is a plot to give you a gun, it's not going to work."

"That," sighed Anton, "is not idea."

"Sure."

"You do not trust me?"

Gavin studied Anton's face; the bruising was starting to fade, and his eyes were looking intently at Gavin.  He did want to trust the young man, and he felt like he should, but that was no reason to tell him that. He continued shuffling the deck of cards.

"Well... you are handcuffed to the table. But I didn't shoot you. Let's say the jury is still out."

There was a long silence.

"Are all American moobsters as old as you? Anton asked.

"Mobsters, kid. Mobsters. And no. Not many of them are."

"Why not? They retire?"

"Some do. Most get forcibly retired. Permanently."

"Ah. Yes.  But you made it this long. You must be very skilled."

"Suppose so."

Anton looked at Gavin curiously.

"Earlier, Mr. Byrne, we talked about absolution for evil things. Do you have regrets?"

Gavin paused for a long time, focusing on the deck of cards he was shuffling.

"Yep."

"For?"

"Things I've done. Mostly things I failed to do. That's how it goes, I suppose."

"I think I understand," said Anton, "the people that I failed to save by inaction always hurt more than the mistakes I made."

"Mercenaries save people?" questioned Gavin.

"Sometimes," replied Anton, "we fought in wars. Special jobs that the regular army couldn't or wouldn't do. We'd run into civilians sometimes. Do you know how men behave during war, Mr. Byrne."

Gavin nodded slowly.

"It is horrible to see men at their most bestial," continued Anton, "and sometimes I couldn't hold my comrades back. Or wouldn't, if being more honest with myself. What would you if a man who took a bullet for you is in the next room raping a girl? No, I failed to save many people."

Anton seemed to have meant the question rhetorically, but Gavin placed the cards down and began playing solitaire as he answered.

"You shoot your friend, Anton. Quickly, painlessly, and thoroughly."

"I am surprised," said Anton, staring at Gavin, "to hear that from you. And what if a comrade kills an innocent man?"

"I suppose," said Gavin, "that that depends on why he killed him. Was it a mistake? A singular burst of rage or grief? Did boredom lead him to kill? Or pleasure? How likely is he to do it again?"

Gavin's icy blue eyes flicked up to Anton.

"Why are you asking me all this shit, anyway?"

"I consider my past actions, Mr. Byrne," said Anton, "and, I confess, I am surprised by you. The stories from Volkov... they paint you as a mix of  Genghis Khan, Vlad the Impaler, our own Ivan the Terrible. I also seek my own way to make things right.' Anton smirked. "Also, I am handcuffed to your table and have nothing else to do but talk."

Gavin sighed as he collected up the cards.

"Anton, it's time to teach you a game called poker. No Limit Texas Hold 'Em is one of America's great gifts to the world..."

_______

After sundown, Gavin readied his weapons, not that he was planning on using him. As Tara changed into black clothes to make it easier to stay unseen, Gavin and Aurora stood in the backyard resting their backs comfortably against the house. It was getting colder as the night advanced, and Gavin could see his breath when he exhaled.

"We won't be long. We'll find a sniper perch, check out the overnight security set up, and be back before you know it. And we'll sleep in, make sure we're rest for tomorrow night." Gavin tilted his head inside. "Be careful with our guest. He's been playing nice, but keep him chained to something. And keep your gun on you." He smirked. "I know I don't have to say it, but... you'll know. Someday."

Aurora nodded and looked up through the haze of city lights towards the stars she could barely see.  "Nothing like Iceland.  I suppose nowhere is really.  I bet it's the same in New Foundland - bet the sky goes on endlessly up there."  She looked to her dad and asked,  "Did you ever go back to that place?" 

She seemed to realize it was the wrong question for the moment and quickly shook her head, "Dumb question.  I don't know why I asked something like that ..."  That, she realized, was a lie. 

She'd felt a child with her father, in every setting until that night in Iceland when he'd opened up to her about his past.  There in the firelight, she saw the first real signs of something less than a god-like-being whom she'd modeled herself after for years.  For a moment that night, through the haze of her pain and his whiskey slur, she could see a man she'd never met before.  For a moment they were just two people set apart from the world - together.  Not father and daughter or mentor and protege, he wasn't The Wolf of Race Street, he was just Gavin Byrne.

It occurred to her then, that for as much as he gave to her in life that there were parts of himself he would never share with her.  Parts, she now realized, that might never be shared with anyone ever again now that her mother was gone.  She wanted to tell him she was sorry for her outburst the other day... if he ever learned about Bella's final words it should never have been in that way; but she wasn't sorry.  Not really.  In fact, she felt better having shared it with him and were they not facing nearly certain doom in the days ahead, she'd gladly drink him under the table to try and forget it... for a little while.  That, she allowed herself, was a major perk of her tits finally drying up.  She would be able to drink again.

"If things go bad, I have a will on file with a lawyer in Vegas, not that it should be needed now that I'm married to Billy, but I figured you should know just in case things take a real left turn.  I promised Brigitte she'll never go back to an orphanage, so I've got things in place - just case something should happen to all the logical people who might survive to look after the kids."  She looked to her Dad, "I got her training every morning... kid's a natural at picking pockets though so... watch your wallet around her."

She chuckled and looked back up to the sky.

"I want you to know that you and mom did good.  I've had a great life.  In case I never said it before..."  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Thank you.  For everything."

Aurora could hear a pack of dogs barking somewhere in the distance, there were animals all over the city left uncared for and unchecked... wild packs of them she'd seen as they'd driven around town. It was the damnedest thing.  Like... wolves.  City wolves she supposed.

"I just want you to know... straight up..."  she turned towards him, "If we go into this asshole's stronghold tomorrow, or that bar the day after, and you pull any unnecessarily stupid heroic bullshit and catch a fucking bullet that costs my kids their Grandpa,  well... I will write something on your headstone that will make you want to come back and lose another fight to me.  I swear it."

She smirked at him.

"And don't worry about me with the Russian if you can help it.  He's not going anywhere unless he knows how to get out of the cuffs on his own and I'd think he would have tried it by now if he did."  She arched an eyebrow at Gavin, "What did you two talk about all day anyway?  Did you learn anything useful about him?"

Gavin glanced up at the stars as Aurora looked up.

"I did go back. Once. When Tara and I left, we burned our old house down. Never planned on heading back. When I was 20, a couple years after we'd left, I went back. We weren't really close to anyone, but there was a village a few dozen miles away. There was a woman there who'd shown me kindness..."

That's probably the nicest way to translate "took my virginity and screwed my brains out" to my daughter.

... well, I'd heard from someone I ran into that she was struggling... but by the time I'd gotten back she'd died. She and her daughter caught some illness that had torn through the village. Couldn't afford medicine. No one there could, really."

He frowned.

"And it's not a dumb question. It might have been dumb of me to go back, but it wasn't dumb for you to ask about it."

As she started talking about the will, he shook his head.

"You know I never shielded you from the truth. I know there's a chance none of us come back. But don't think like that. And don't talk like you're trying to sum up your life. That's for old shits like Tara and I to do. As for me... stupidly heroic bullshit is sort of my move when my family is threatened. But I've never done it when it wasn't necessary."

He was smirking when he said it, but there was pain there, too. Part of him was referring to killing an FBN and jumping out of a plane; the other part referred to Bella's death. He was glad to turn the topic of conversation to the Russian.

"He has an inferior taste in guns and sucks at poker. He's been a mercenary for longer than he ever was a soldier. He and Volkov were in the Special Forces together. Eventually, they started wondering why they were risking their lives for their government on a shitty paycheck and went into business themselves. They built a team, made a lot of money, built connections with the Bratva to make even more, and then eighteen months ago Volkov started his crusade against Tara and our family. Seems like it wasn't anything particular that set him off- more like they finally had the resources and connections to do it. Other than that, he seems focused on his guilt, whether it's possible for an evil man to change, and what does he deserve after he changes... that sort of thing."

"Fair enough."  She said kissing his cheek. 

"No more talk like we're not getting out of this shit show... just, this is our first time doing something quite like this.  You'll have to forgive me for not knowing how to handle it."  she chuckled.  "This is a far cry from our very first job together... remember operation Santa?  Honestly, I wouldn't mind very much if we had to go back to working jobs like that for a while after this one."

She stretched and stifled a yawn. 

"If he was up all day, chances are good he'll pass out at some point.  I suspect it'll be a long boring night."  Patting Gavin on the upper arm she headed back inside, by now Aunt Tara was probably ready to go.

"Anton," She asked as her father followed her in.  "Shall I have my father put you into a bed so you can sleep comfortably at least?  I'd hate for you to sit in the chair all damn night... I mean, I don't want to toss the dice that you're gonna slip out in the middle of the night but shit, I'm not a total asshole.  There's no reason we can't chain you to the damn bed if you'd rather?"

Anton raised an eyebrow at the phrase "chain you to the damn bed".

"Ja."

Gavin sighed audibly and got the Russian chained to Tara's bed. When he was done, he rested a hand on Aurora's shoulder.

"We won't be long, squirt. Couple hours, at most."

He nodded at Aurora as Tara, wearing all black, emerged from the bathroom. Soon, she and Gavin were out the door and Aurora was left alone with Anton. He was lying on the bed with his left arm chained comfortably back against a metal pole. He glanced at the door.

"They go for more looking. Smart."

Aurora sat down at the table in the room and pulled out her notepad and began to write again.  It wasn't the first bit she'd written to Billy, it was actually the third entry.  The first had been on the flight over the Atlantic, the second had been on the first night, the second night she'd feared him dead and couldn't make herself continue but tonight... tonight there was hope and so she began writing to him again.

Billy,  sorry I didn't write last night.  I was too busy worrying you were dead again but if our new friend is to believed you managed to hold your own against our enemy and you and the children are safely tucked away - waiting for me to come back to you.  Believe me when I say I'm doing everything possible to make that happen.

She looked up from her letter to Anton, the Russian was watching her and she found herself closing the small notepad and putting it back into her jacket pocket.  

"I saw his family today."  She said to Anton.  "The woman could have passed for my own mother... the kids... they're kids.  It's easy to forget sometimes that the scariest people in the world are someone's father or husband.  Tell me, what did you think about your day with the Devil?"