"The kids are... суки, but that is not enough to deserve death or to risk it. I am glad you wait for tomorrow."

Anton shrugged.

"And the devil is very good at card games. He taught me one and beat me. Then I taught him one- and he beat me again. I asked him questions. He asked me some questions. I think he wonders if he can trust me."

Aurora didn't know what he called the kids, but she suspected it wasn't complimentary based on his tone.  She simply arched an eyebrow and then nodded when he said that was no reason for them to die.

"My dad likes to think the best of people."  She leaned back in her chair.  "The problem is it's not just him he's got to worry about right now.  If it was him and you... no Tara and no me?  I suspect you'd be out of those cuffs by now.  My dad isn't a man of indecision.  I can count, on less than one hand, the number of times I've ever seen him struggle to decide something.  Chances are good he's already made up his mind about you, but he doesn't put his family at risk carelessly.  Men like him don't live so long as he has by leaving shit to chance."

She tilted her head to the side considering the man in her Aunt's bed.

"I wonder, what will you do if this goes well for us - Volkov dies - do you ... go home?  Do you have family to return to?  A life?"

"It still strikes me how you speak about someone with a fearsome reputation... like he is a dedicated family man."

Anton tried to lace his hands comfortably on his stomach, but he'd forgotten about the chain. It snagged and he sighed before continuing to speak.

"The future? I do not know. I serve in army... I hunt for Russia. I serve as Wolf Pack... I hunt for Volkov. No real family. No real life. Just hunt. You? You kill Volkov, you go home? See you children?"

Anton looked at Aurora curiously, the way one studies a painting in a museum.

"How old are you, Aurora Byrne? Not surprising you are married. Beautiful woman. Strong. But hard to imagine beautiful young woman, married, children- also hunter."

... beautiful?

"He is a dedicated family man..."

She refocused on talking about her Dad instead of on what he just said about her.

"He gave up being a 'hunter' as you put it for most of my childhood just to be home with us kids."  he shook her head.  "Again, I don't suppose you'd believe that though so I won't keep hammering on the point." 

"He adopted me, though, you know that don't you?"  she arched an eyebrow.  "That man saved me from a fate worse than death.  Even in the U.S. being an orphan is a terrible life.  Thanks to him I had a perfect childhood.  I was blessed, I ..."

... was horribly spoiled and ungrateful at times and had no idea how good I really had it.

Her voice trailed off as she realized she said more than she meant to.

"I'm twenty-three.  I adopted my oldest just as my parents adopted me.  My son... he's just a few weeks old now and... I can't wait to hold him again." 

Thinking of little Gav and not crying was exceedingly hard.

"I wouldn't be hunting right now if there was any choice... but seeing how Volkov's men have already visited my home, it looks I made the right choice.  That's not to say I won't return to the work one day, but I've never taken jobs for the money or the thrill.  I'm very... particular about the work I engage in."

She crossed her legs.

"What about you?  You and Volkov took jobs before you were hunting us... did you pick jobs based on the money, the thrill... or were there some sort of principles involved?"

"There used to be a code," said Anton, "that resembling something approximating honor. We did bad things to bad people. Then, it became about the money. But we excused it, since we had a higher purpose that better the world- and then, when we had the resources..."

He trailed off.

"Either way, I did not ever pick jobs. It can be dangerous to follow."

Aurora didn't talk much after that, maybe it was the oddity of having a man chained to the bed having called her beautiful, or the fact that he was a one-time ally of the man who had tried to kill her family.  Maybe it was fear for Tara and Gavin being out there without her or the thought of charging into another mobster's home planning to kill him where he lived with his wife and played with his children.  Bella wouldn't have felt good about it... and Aurora didn't either.

She sat silent, never finishing her letter to Billy, only occasionally talking to Anton.  Then, silently she watched him sleep - wishing she could trust herself to sleep too.  It was beyond a relief when the door came open and both Tara and Gavin walked back in several hours later, unharmed. 

Sleep came in shifts.  Tara and Rora slept first, mostly because Gavin was stubborn and he insisted he couldn't sleep until he'd fully checked over the rifle Aurora was going to be using.  Then sometime around lunch, Gavin woke Rora and he went to sleep.  Just after noon, it was Tara's turn to watch Anton and Aurora caught another nap before Gavin shook her gently nearing the evening hours.

As prep work went, there wasn't much left to do.  Not really.  The Byrnes ate their meager dinner of dry sandwiches in near silence, giving some to Anton as well.  Aurora gave him a look from time to time, a thousand thoughts danced through her mind, but she gave them no voice.  Instead, she prepared her guns and herself and quietly said a prayer hoping that God and her guardian angels decided to favor them again today.  For all that had gone wrong so far, Aurora recognized they'd been exceedingly lucky... things could have gone much worse at every turn.  She prayed their luck held.

All her gear in place & with nothing left to do, Aurora looked to Gavin and Tara to ask, "Ready?" 

It was time to toss the dice.  

Gavin had his rifle in his briefcase; it was half assembled and aligned, but broken into two pieces so it'd fit. The car ride over was quiet; as they approached, Tara began the briefing. 

"Gavin and I spent a lot of time looking for a good sniper perch. The short story is that there isn't one. There are places that we could camp out for a good shot, but those have bad angles on the house. There are places with good angles on the house, but they're near taller residential buildings where any shooter could easily get spotted and have to deal with cops."

Tara sighed.

"In short, we can use the scope to get an initial idea of what's going on on the exterior of the building, but it's not going to let us remove the target from a distance or help us see inside."

"What I propose, with a few additions from Gavin, is this:

1) we use the rifle to check the place out and make sure there are no surprises outside.

2) we divide into pairs and quietly remove the guards at both gates simultaneously. It would be easier to handle just one of the gates, obviously, but since they occasionally communicate with each other removing both and hiding the bodies would guarantee us that no one outside calls for back up. And since we're dealing with the equivalent of a Don in the Bratva... there's a lot of potential back up here. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that we cannot get pinned down in the house for more than ten or fifteen minutes at most. If we can get in silently, we can take our time. But if someone calls for help on our way in, we need to sprint in and out. 

3) The number of cars will tell us whether Ivanov's lieutenants are gone.

4) Ivanov's wife and children, according to Anton, should be gone; this should make it easier to avoid collateral damage if the shit really hits the fan. I'd still check your shots in case there's a servant, but we should be safe. 

5) Ivanov isn't particularly skilled with a gun, at least not anymore, but he should have a pistol either on him, in his desk, or in his nightstand. In addition to the four bodyguards outside, there should be several more inside- although some will almost certainly be sleeping. Again, stealth will help us here. 

6) Once we're in the house, it may make sense to split up. And Rora, before you protest, Ivanov's bedroom is right next to his study. We'd still be within 20 feet or so, so we wouldn't get cut off from each other. 

We take down the four guards outside. We move in, removing any guards patrolling downstairs. We move upstairs, removing guards and heading to the bedroom/study. We eliminate Ivanov and grab as many papers as possible from his study.

Any questions? Thoughts? Concerns?

She looked at Aurora and Anton, who were both sitting in the backseat.

"Anton gets a gun," said Aurora, without looking at him, "if we can't trust him, we're screwed anyway. If we can trust him, he can help begin atoning for what he's done."

Gavin just kept driving; Tara looked like she was going to say something, but simply nodded into the rear-view mirror. 

They parked the car a couple blocks from Ivanov's house; close enough where they could run to it, but far enough away that it wouldn't draw attention. Gavin, Tara, and Anton hid in the shadows of the streets and alleys as Aurora ascended a dark building with Gavin's briefcase. Assembling the rifle, she used the scope to check out the house, watching for a few minutes. She lay flat on the ground, her stomach against the cool cement, as she arched her back slightly to see through the scope. Still four guards- two at each gate. And cars... well, the place seemed empty. There certainly weren't enough cars to suggest that any sort of meeting was still going on. Taking a deep breath and cursing the fact that she couldn't even try to put a round in Ivanov from a distance, Aurora quickly broke the rifle in half for easy storage, closed the briefcase, and climb down to where everyone else was waiting.

She nodded at Gavin, Tara, and Anton.

It was time.

To handle the four guards, two at each gate, Aurora split the group into two teams. She and Anton would handle the north gate, while Gavin and Tara would handle the one to the south. 

As they approached the gate, Gavin and Tara had a brief exchange and split up once again: Gavin melted into the shadows while Tara lurched on unsteady legs toward the guardpost, looking like she was about to collapse. As the standing guard raised his gun toward Tara, she begged for help, explaining in perfect Russian that she had been mugged and stabbed. As the standing man approached her and lowered his gun, Tara glanced over his shoulder to see Gavin lock his arm around the sitting man and silently choke him. Tara continued to distract the guard closest to her, who only managed a half turn of his head as Gavin approached at a run and knocked him down with a blow to the head.

“I’ll drag them out of sight,” said Gavin, “tie them up and gag them.”

When the Byrne twins were done, they moved silently across the yard to meet Aurora and Anton.

_______

Aurora had certainly never thought about her first real, true, dangerous mission with her father going down quite like this.  In her ideal world, it was she and her dad against the world.  Tara’s presence complicated matters.  Anton… well that was a whole ball of wax that she hadn’t considered in her dizziest daydreams.  

She’d suggested giving the man the gun though, so the risk was hers.  That’s how she explained it but the truth was more along the lines of not thinking Tara capable of handling the combat and watching Anton and knowing that if Anton was still a plant from Volkov that he was more likely to shoot her father given the chance.  Perhaps it was arrogant to think she’d gotten to him - but she did.  The die was cast.  

Anton and Aurora approached from opposite directions.  Anton hanging to the shadows, Aurora a bit more out in the open.  While Aurora was never one to rely upon guile, she was a poor liar as all things went, she did allow men to make certain assumptions based upon her size and they usually did.

Aurora got closer to the men than she expected, which she had to admit was considerably close, before she spotted Anton emerging from behind the furthest one from her.  If she hadn’t been watching for him, she might have seen it.  She certainly didn’t hear it.  The moment the man went down to his knees, Aurora moved.

The blow to the throat was one she’d never tried outside of practice before.  A precise punch, one meant to stifle the noise, maybe even collapse a wind-pipe if the impact was hard enough and correct.  It wasn’t a great time to try out new tactics, she had to admit that, but this wasn’t really her area of expertise either.  Up until this moment, she’d only done a handful of jobs where she was engaging her target up close and personal and most of those efforts had occurred in situations where she’d set the stage quite purposefully for unintended noises NOT to be an issue.  

A strike to the throat, followed by a secondary blow in quick succession silenced him and disabled his ability to use his weapon.  The third blow ended the threat with finality.  Anton was already pulling the first body out of sight when she finished her part of the task.  

Anton merely gave her a nod when he returned to her side, having deposited the guard in a thick bush to the left of the entrance.  

So far… so good.

________
 

Having silently dispatched and hidden the four guards outside, the group of four slowly made their way into the house. As Gavin quickly picked the lock, Tara found herself glancing at Anton’s gun. He saw her looking and Tara gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile- he returned it, at least.

Based on their successful scouting and Anton’s information, it seemed like there’d be four guards downstairs and then another two upstairs. 

As they made their way through the downstairs hallway, Aurora took the lead with Gavin only a half step behind her. Anton, ironically considering Aurora’s comments in the car about him having a gun at her back, followed behind Aurora and Gavin, while Tara brought up the rear.

The group was far from perfectly silent as they made their way through the first floor, but it was easy enough to handle the drunken, half-asleep guards who’d been celebrating during the previous evening. Gavin or Anton would deliver a blow or a chokehold to stun each guard they came across haphazardly strewn out on chairs, and then Aurora and Tara quickly bound them and gagged them. 

They proceeded slowly up the stairs, not wanting to make too much noise too quickly. When they reached the top, Aurora saw two guards sitting on chairs on either side of a doorway, facing the stairs. They looked tough… but they also looked half asleep.

Gavin raised a questioning eyebrow at Aurora, curious how she’d want to handle them.  Aurora looked at the two men.  The thought crossed her mind to rush up the stairs and just engage them, certainly they couldn’t get guns out and ready in their state as fast as the Byrnes and friend would be.  The noise would wake their target though and so far the whole operation had gone absolutely perfectly.  The MIGHT just make it out of this place without a single loss and without raising an alarm if they could find a way to subdue the men without a fuss.  That, of course, would mean waiting for one of them to come close or finding a way to lure them out of their post.  

Waiting them out was an option, certainly, drunk men would need to piss eventually but there was no telling if they’d have to come down the stairs for that or if there was a bathroom on the second floor.  No, if it was to happen this way there would need to be something that would get them to move.  A sound?  Knock over a beer bottle or drop something on the stairs to get them close enough to look and then take them unawares?  Still a lot of risks.  All these ideas went through her head in less than a heartbeat.

Aurora considered the kitchen.  Just down the stairs and to the right.  She could put a pot on, turn on a burner… wait for the smell to lure them down… but they might yell out to those who should be on duty down there.  But would they care to wake their boss?  Aurora didn’t know a lot about how the Russians did things in particular but she KNEW underlings and bodyguards who were this close to their boss didn’t get there by being sloppy.  They wouldn’t crassly wake their boss.  

She spoke in a breathy whisper to her father, “Kitchen.  Lure ‘em down?  Get ‘em on stairs?”  
  
Gavin looked confused about “kitchen”, but he nodded at “lure ‘em down” and “get ‘em on stairs”. Looking at his daughter, he calmly said “Moose”.

Aurora smirked and shook her head, stifling a small laugh before it broke out of her.

Both men started, hearing a single word in English. Or had they? They got up cautiously, rubbing their eyes. As they turned the corner toward the stairs, Gavin, Aurora, and Anton were already in motion. Aurora darted in between them, chopping out with both hands into their windpipes before continuing past them and halting. As both men, silenced, reached toward their throats, Gavin and Anton put them down hard. This time, Tara hastily tied them. 

The master bedroom and the attached study were at the end of the hall, and the group approached cautiously. 

As the group approached the master bedroom, they unexpectedly heard Russian voices coming from the linked study. Tara raised a hand and, whispering, translated for them.

“It is foolish! No!” boomed a man’s loud, baritone voice.

“Look at the Americans,” said the patient, low voice of a woman, “who give the women in their organization more power. Are they not stronger for it? I deserve the auth, Kirill. I am better than your other lieutenants. Smarter.  More powerful. ”

“Bah! You are only more powerful because of that son of yours. You’re smart, yes, and you earn well. But if I authed a woman- never mind my wife- my men would lose all respect for me. It will not happen.”

Aurora met Tara’s eyes and watched her Aunt not only translating but digesting the words.  Tara had lived that woman’s life, albeit in another world entirely.  A part of Aurora thought about kicking in the door, shooting the fucker in the head and wishing the woman well in taking over his empire, but she knew that was a daydream.  THAT could happen in America.  Probably not so much in Russia.  This was a bit more complex and the thought of killing a woman, his wife, the mother of those kids… it gave Aurora more pause than it should have.  As a result, they stood there for a moment continuing to listen.

After a moment she pointed to herself and Anton, making a motion to enter the bedroom.  She then made a gesture to Gavin and Tara and pointed at the study door.  In that same breathy whisper, “She’ll be an issue.  We’ll meet you in there.  Enter when you hear us.”  She waited to see if they agreed to the plan before moving towards the bedroom door.  Ideally the distraction from them entering one way would allow Gavin to take the shot coming in the other way.

Gavin nodded as he headed off to the side door with Tara following. As the Byrne twins disappeared, Anton continued to translate for Aurora.

“My son is a weapon, yes Kirill. But I can wield a weapon of my own quite well enough.”

“Put the gun down. This is no time for theatrics.”

Aurora froze at Anton’s words.  Was this happening?  Had they come all this way to take out a mob boss who was about to be killed by his own wife?

“It is always the time for theatrics. Theatrics is the only reason you deny me what is rightfully mine. But no, Kirill, I’m not going to kill you.”

Aurora waited until Gavin had had enough time to get into position; she knew that on the other side of the wall, he was waiting with his gun in his hand, tensed and ready to move, Tara over his shoulder. 

Knowing damn well her father would shoot for the mafia boss, knowing damn well he wouldn’t shoot the woman… Aurora prepared her mind to do whatever she had to.  The wife had a gun.  What wife wouldn’t retaliate if her husband died right in front of her?  She tried not to think about the woman she saw yesterday, her mother’s age, the same graying hair, the kids…  none of that could matter right now.  Not so long as her family was in danger.  She’d take a non-lethal shot.  Make sure the woman couldn’t kill anyone.  She could do that… she’d done that sort of thing since she was a girl.  She just had to see the woman first.

Aurora gave a nod to Anton and then took a step back before kicking the door open with a terrible racket meant to draw the attention of the two people in the room.  Her gun at the ready.

As soon as Gavin heard Aurora kick the door down, he burst into the room and shot Kirill twice in the head before the Russian could do anything other than twitch his bushy eyebrows.. Noticing the dark-haired woman holding the gun, Gavin started to point it at her as a precaution- then he utterly froze. His voice, when he could finally speak, was a mixture between a lament and a malediction.

“Oh… shit.”

As soon as Aurora had taken a step into the room, a strong arm grabbed her shoulder. Aurora froze and felt a chill travel down her spine as the cold metal of Anton’s gun pressed against the back of her neck- at the place where the head and the spine are linked. If she tried to move, she’d be instantly killed. Anton’s hand on her shoulder was as hard and unforgiving as the gun pressed against her as he moved her into the room, turning Aurora’s body so that it was between him and Gavin.

“I think,” said Anton loudly, “that we all need to have a discussion. Everyone but me… drop your gun. Now.”

Gavin looked at the gun at Aurora’s neck and dropped his immediately, turning at Tara and staring at her until she did the same. The black haired woman- Ivanov’s wife- pointed her gun at Gavin. Tara moved to his side immediately.

“You too, Mother,” said Anton, firmly.

The dark haired woman and Gavin stared at each other for what felt like a long time. Gavin’s eyes were cold as he looked at her, and his voice was colder as he finally spoke, “Hello, Daria.”

If possible, the dark haired woman’s voice was even more full of hatred as she lowered her gun, practically spitting out, “Byrne.”

“Drop it, Mother,” said Anton, “Now.”

She didn’t drop it, but she did put the gun on the desk next to her. Aurora could feel Anton exhale before he spoke, “Now… we are going to have a talk. A brief one, but a thorough one.”

“What is there to talk about?” demanded Daria, the dark haired woman with fire in her eyes. She spoke in Russian and, while Gavin and Aurora couldn’t understand her, they could feel the depth of rage emanating from the woman. “You have your enemies precisely where you want them. There is Gavin Byrne. There is Tara Byrne. Two years you have worked to stand in front of your enemies; you have a gun and they do not. End this. Are you a wolf? Or a pup?”

It was unclear whether she was simply reacting or trying to communicate with Aurora, but Tara’s eyes went wide as she stared at Anton and whispered one word: “Volkov.”

“You…” Volkov’s voice poured like honey into her ear, “should listen carefully, Aurora Byrne.”

Volkov sighed as he pressed the gun harder against Aurora’s neck and his grip on her shoulder tightened; she couldn’t move without catching a bullet.

25 Years Earlier

Gavin and Tara Byrne sat next to each other in a pair of comfortable chairs. Tara was glaring at her brother, who was grinning and whistling as he looked around the office. 

"You're just so pleased with yourself, aren't you?" questioned Tara, with exasperation permeating every syllable.

Gavin nodded with a grin, his blue eyes shining. Before Tara could reply, they heard the loud clicking of shoes from the hallway, although the sound faded as JackMezzo stepped onto the carpet in his office. He closed the door with a resounding thump before stalking over to his desk and sitting in his chair. He laced his fingers as he looked out at the Byrne twins. 

"Tara, where are we with the Pier?"

Tara sat up straighter, hanging on every word from Jack. 

"Everything is proceeding according to plan. The main site has already been constructed and the materials are prepared for the upcoming expansions. We're just waiting on the final confirmation from Spaceman that the permits have been taken care of."

"Good", said Jack, as he nodded to her. Tara lapped up the praise like a cat consumes cream. She smiled warmly at Jack, even as the newest crewleader in Philadelphia continued to speak. "And where are we with Isabella Luciano?"

Both Gavin and Tara opened their mouths to answer; Jack raised a hand to stop them both before pointing at Tara and saying, "You first."

She shot a superior look at Gavin and practically purred, "Thank you, boss. Well, things are progressing nicely. As you know, she was the first person you invited to tour the Pier. Between the two of us, I think we made a good impression. I sent her a follow up letter that I expect her to answer soon... when she's less... occupied." Her eyes, pointed at Gavin, narrowed slightly.

Jack turned his attention to the male half of the Byrne twins. Gavin smirked.

"What are you doing with her?", questioned Jack.

"I mean, do you want all the steamy details, Jack? Or just the highlights?"

Tara started turning pink, although it was hard to say whether it was embarrassment or anger. Jack rubbed his face with his hand.

"Look", said Jack, leaning forwards toward Gavin. "That girl's father is one of the most powerful people in the whole damn country. He's at least on the short list with Spaceman, Marie Lucania, and Ligambi. I invited her to this city because of her expertise in the business district; she could be the difference between Race Street becoming a national attraction or just a local one."

Jack paused a moment, studying the man in front of him.

"Look. Gavin...", Jack began with a sigh. "You' know how important you are to me. Regardless of where you are in the crew structure... you, me, and Tara... we're going to do big things together. And you know I let you do pretty much whatever you want. I was a young man once. I get it. Hell, I'll buy you a whorehouse if you want. And I know you're running around with that girl from New York, Madeline. And the Vegas girl... DiVasio. Are there more, Tara?"

Tara nodded.

Jack continued, "So with all these other women... all of the potential future women... you decide to screw Isabella Luciano when she is here for an extremely important business meeting?

Gavin was finally able to get a word in, protesting, "Well, I didn't really know who she was until we were on the plane heading north. And at that point it seemed rude to-"

With a pointed finger, Jack interrupted him, "Don't fuck this up, Gavin. I trust you. You've been in the line of fire for me since I hired you as a dogcatcher, and I have your back here, but don't fuck this up. What you're doing with her... it could impact our entire city."

Gavin sighed... but he nodded. It wasn't clear, exactly, what he was agreeing with, but Jack seemed to know his message had been delivered.

"Okay," said Jack, "we're done here."

Tara eagerly popped to her feet, flashing a smile at Jack as she asked, "Did you want to get a drink at the East Cat? They just installed the taps, and-"

"Sorry, Tara. I still have something to talk to your brother about. Maybe some other time?"

Tara's grin never faltered, "Sure. Some other time."

With a last look at her brother, Tara exited Jack's office and closed the door behind her. Jack's expression was serious as he looked at Gavin and spoke, in a low voice, "Got some work for you. We've got a problem in South Philly. Up until now, it's mostly been a quiet area. We stay in the Old City, our allies are in Bella Vista, and we largely limit our business to those two districts- cheaper to keep the cops in line."

Jack removed a folder from his desk that he slid toward Gavin, who opened it and flipped through the pages as Jack continued speaking.

"This is the Zolotov family. Three brothers, one sister. They showed up in Philly a few months ago, straight from Russia. They've got a warehouse somewhere in South Philly. Originally, they approached me with a business proposition: they wanted to create and distribute heroin- and use Race Street as their distributors. I, trying to be a responsible steward of my city, told them that the stuff Spaceman made was better than anything they could do, and that if they made a single shipment of it it wouldn't go well for them."

Jack shook his head, continuing to speak, "Well, I didn't hear anything from them for weeks, thought they'd left to go another city. Then I have three or four different earners started telling me that their heroin stocks just aren't moving. Well, someone's undercutting us and Godfather Spaceman is pissed. He wants anyone making drugs dead- send a clear message to anyone else who's thinking about encroaching on his turf. He said he's been eyeing South Philly for expansion, but he's got to make sure it's cleaned out first. So we asked around, and word on the street is that the Zolokovs aren't just cranking out heroin- they're also recruiting people. If they start putting real crews together, this is going to get harder... you're going to shut them down before they reach that point.

Gavin reached the last photo: a beautiful dark haired Russian girl. He raised an eyebrow.

"No idea where the brothers are, but we've got a location on her. She does her recruiting out of Russian bar in South Philly. She's your way in. Questions?"

Gavin shook his head.

"Kill anyone involved in making the drugs, and burn their place down when you find it."

With a nod, Jack dismissed Gavin from his office. 

_______

Dmitri Zolotov.

Ivan Zolotov.

Aleksandr Zolotov.

Daria Zolotov.

Gavin was glad he'd met the last one first. 

Despite the fact that Daria Zolotov sat at a corner table of The Ruba Club, every eye in the place managed to wander over to her on a regular basis. Her dark brown hair was perfectly straight, and her brown eyes enchanted anyone who got close enough to her. Her body was largely covered by a modest navy blue dress that Gavin considered the equivalent of throwing a tarp on a Duesenberg. Still, a body like that couldn't be hidden. 

And if ever a dress was begging to be ripped open, it was that one. 

When she raised an annoyed eyebrow at him, Gavin realized he'd been caught staring. With a sheepish grin, he approached her.

"Sorry. I'd tell you that I was lost in your beauty, but I'm sure you hear that a lot."

She studied him for a moment, and Gavin could feel her eyes on his body, his face, and finally his eyes. 

"I do.", she spoke simply, with a pronounced Russian accent. "Though most people who say it do not look like you."

"Oh, more like the human bear over here?" questioned Gavin, as he indicated with his drink to the large man standing just a few feet away at the bar; the man had so much hair on his back that it was coming out from the neckline of his shirt. Daria stifled a laugh as the man glanced at Gavin, who was definitely within earshot. Gavin, smirking at her pleasant laugh, slid into the seat across from her.

"And here I thought finding work was going to involve me talking to an old man with ear hair. Although I suspect you motivate far more people," he said with a grin.

As he mentioned work, Daria's back seemed to straighten. She narrowed her eyes as she questioned, "Ah, I was not aware that you were here on business, rather than pleasure."

"I don't see why it can't be both."

"I think I could have guessed that about you. What is your name?"

"Peter. Peter Crawford."

"And why do you want work, Peter Crawford? We usually only welcome others of Russian descent."

"Well, I was running with an Irish gang in Boston, but they kicked me out because my leader's girl fell in love with me," he shrugged nonchalantly, "just the way of the world, I guess. I made my way to Philly because I don't have enough cash to go farther. A bartender mentioned I should come here- that you were looking for talent."

Daria listened carefully.

"And what are your talents, Mr. Crawford?"

Gavin leaned forward and his icy blue eyes reflected the light hanging above them.

"Not all of them are appropriate for the bar... but I'm a good fighter."

"Many men say that they are good fighters, Mr. Crawford. Do you have any proof of this?"

"How would I prove myself?"

Daria looked over his shoulder.

"That large man there," she said, "has been harassing me all night. Put him and his friend on the ground, and I'll give you a real job to test your abilities."

Gavin looked at her for a moment before asking, "If I do it within one minute, can I buy you a drink?" Daria just stared at him as he continued, "Well, that's not a no", and he hopped off his chair to the bar.

Gavin immediately ordered two vodka sodas, which is what he guessed she was drinking, and he kept an eye on the clock as the bartender made the drinks. When 45 seconds had gone by and the drinks were in front of him, Gavin reached up high to the back of the large man's head, and slammed it down on the bar with a sickening crunch. Before the friend could react, Gavin threw an expertly placed punch that rammed into his chin and sent him to the floor. Picking up his drinks and bringing them back to Daria, he put them down and flexed his hands.

Daria just stared at him for a moment, then smiled and accepted her drink. 

"Aren't you bored yet, Dari?"

"Dari-AH."

"I thought we'd save you 'ahs' for later tonight, actually."

Gavin felt a soft punch against his shoulder.

"You are a dirty man, Peter."

Gavin seemed to consider this, then nodded in agreement. 

"One more, Peter, then you're done. You've collected the debts of everyone who owes us money... we've been chasing some of these men for weeks. See that man on the corner?"

"The guy in the blue jacket?"

"Yes. That is your target. Henry Green."

"How much does he owe?"

"Two hundred."

Gavin raised an eyebrow. His wallet was almost empty.

"Are you going to wait in the car again?"

"Yes. This is Old City. Not our territory. I will be ready to drive in case there's trouble."

Gavin nodded and exited the car. He walked briskly up to the group of men, who all froze as he approached. Gavin grabbed Henry by the collar of his jacket and threw him back against the wall. Gavin put on his best scowl.

"Hello, Henry."

"Uh, hey Gavin. What's goin' on?"

"You borrowed money from the fucking Russians?"

"I... you... shit... how'd did-?"

"It doesn't matter how I know. Pay up. Two hundred."

"I... shit, you're not working for them?! Did something happen to Jack or Tar-"

"Henry, shut the fuck up. Don't tell anyone about this. Now I'm going to punch you in the stomach."

Gavin punched him in the stomach.

"Sorry, Hank. Pay up now, huh?"

Henry fished out a handful of bills that Gavin accepted; then he pulled the man toward his face and scowled at him.

"Henry, if you ever borrow from anyone else ever again, I'm going to personally-"

"I won't! I won't! Just let me go, huh?!"

Gavin tossed him away and walked back to the car, where he climbed in next to Daria.

"Here you go, Dari. Anything else on the to do list?"

She started up the car and pulled out, smiling as she heard "Dari". It was silly- her name was only one more syllable- but she liked the way the nickname rolled off his tongue. With a smile, she checked the rearview mirror.

"We will find you something else to do, Peter Crawford."

Half an hour later, Gavin was sitting in a hotel room, staring into the naked chest of Daria Zolotov, which was at his eye level as she held onto his shoulders and lowered herself on him.

The things I do for this job...

Gavin smirked as he adjusted himself and surged toward her.

______

One hour later, the hotel worker doing the midnight rounds heard shouting from inside one of the rooms. Frowning, he leaned his ear closer to the door. Was everyone okay in there?

"прямо там! прямо там! прямо там! прямо там! Сильнее! Сильнее!"

A female voice. Was that Russian? Was she calling for help? 

"встань - я хочу, чтобы ты трахнул меня к стене!"

After a pause, where the worker considered whether or not he should call the police, the voice started up again... this time obviously moaning from pleasure. The worker considered staying and listening... but times were hard, and he couldn't afford lose this job. With a rueful look back, he walked away from the room.

_______

"That was... amazing", whispered Daria as she wrapped her bare leg around Gavin's waist.  

"You weren't so bad yourself."

As she and "Peter Crawford" rested, their breathing and their heartbeats slowly returned to normal. God, did everyone in America have sex like this? Was that why the young women here always seemed so happy?

With a lazy finger, she traced some of the scars on Peter's chest; where they were deep enough, it left a white gash of smooth skin with no hair.  This man was a warrior. If he could shoot a gun half as well as he could use his fists, the success of their venture was assured. One man with skills like Peter Crawford was worth an army of plodding guards- if that man was used properly. 

She sighed, perfectly content for the first time since arriving in America; this man had vanquished her stress and her loneliness in four memorable hours. She stared at his face, and he cracked an eye open like he could send it.

"Well, did I get the job?" he asked with a smirk. Dari nodded back at him and was about to say more, but he began kissing her again- and when she fell asleep, exhausted, half an hour later, she did so with a smile on her face. 

_______

The next morning, Dari woke up in a haze of confusion; when she remembered the whirlwind events of the previous evening. Peter was looking at her, and she pulled the sheet around her as she spun to step up from the bed. But what was the point? Remembering everything they'd done the previous night, she dropped the sheet and wore a smile instead. Bending over to write on the hotel stationary, she scribbled down an address, ripped it off the notepad, and returned to stand in front of him.

"Come here tonight. Meet my brothers; I am sure they will have much more work for you."

Gavin took the piece of paper and tossed it aside.

"I prefer your work."

Grabbing her hips, he turned and pulled her back into bed with him.

Dari's voice spoke up excitedly to the gathered group of men, "This man, he could change everything for us. Tip the balance of power in the city, even."

Dmitri scoffed, "No one man is that good."

"He could be, if used correctly", insisted Dari. "You will like him. I know it."

"It sounds like you like him.", countered Aleksandr.

Dari was thankful that she didn't have to reply as the door to the warehouse banged open upon Ivan's entrance, but her relief faded on seeing his face. When he looked like that... someone usually died. Dari watched, apprehensive, to see who the unlucky man would be. To her shock, Ivan grabbed her by the throat and lifted her up to a standing position- and Ivan's voice roared over the protests of his brothers and the other half dozen men. 

"WHERE WERE YOU LAST NIGHT?!"

Dari struggled to speak; his fingers slightly loosened on her throat as she gasped, "Re...cruit...ing..."

Ivan brought her face closer to his as he bared his teeth with rage.

"Then why," he snarled, "does one of my most trusted men say he saw you driving around with Gavin Fucking Byrne?"

A couple of the men who'd been half-paying attention stood up with wide eyes. Dari shook her head.

"Brother... I don't know who..."

Ivan dropped her to the ground, where she fell on her hands and knees, then spoke to his other two brothers, "Gavin Byrne is Jack Mezzo's personal killer. He and his sister both work for him, and Daria was seen with him last night."

Dmitiri interjected, "She didn't know, Brother. Daria, did you tell him anything about us?"

On the ground, Daria had flipped to sit down and looked like she was in shock as she looked up to her brothers with fear and a growing rage, sputtering, "But... he said... I..."

Her search for the right words was ended when Ivan's head exploded in front of her, sending blood, skull, and brain tissue spraying straight down from him to hit the floor. His body dropped to the ground and Daria began to scream.

The gunshots thrummed, one after the other, as the men standing around in the center of the warehouse began dropping to their knees. Aleksandr fell next, followed by two guards who raised their weapons. Then the warehouse went silent as the three remaining guards gathered around Dmiitri and Daria, shouting in Russian to try to figure out where the shots were coming from. They spun around in a circle, but there was no threat- and nowhere that any shooter should be able to stand without being visible. For three seconds, the silence persisted, and then a final quick staccato rhtyhm of gunshots filled the warehouse. 

Daria was surrounded by the bodies of 3 brothers and 5 guards. She kept screaming, and did stop until she saw the shadow. It was a line. After the rope had dropped from the catwalk, Gavin Byrne slid down it and landed with the grace of a cat. He checked each body to ensure they were dead, then walked up to Daria, keeping his gun in his hand. His voice was businesslike.

"I was told to kill anyone producing the drugs. Is that something you do too."

She stared at him, her eyes filling with the purest hatred he'd ever witnessed. It rendered him silent for a moment, then he raised his gun.

"I prefer not to kill a woman when I can help it, but I will. If you didn't produce the drugs, you will return to Russia immediately. If you did, I have to kill you. Did you produce the drugs?"

Daria didn't blink or flinch as she looked up at the gun; instead, she simply shook her head. Gavin looked at her for a while before he holstered his gun and started to jog away. Daria watched him leave, considering picking up one of her brothers' guns to shoot him... but she'd never used one before. Instead, she stared into his back with such intense loathing that it made him turn around. 

Gavin looked at the woman sitting in the puddle of her brothers' blood; as she continued to stare after him, he vanished into the night.

“This,” said Volkov with a hardness in his voice, “has been quite the family reunion.”

“I,” said Volkov, “was always told that my family had gone to America. That we had been wiped out by a savage family- The Byrnes. I was told that my uncles were killed and my mother was raped by a man named Gavin Byrne- that she barely escaped with her life. She fled back to Russia, but the reminder of that evil stayed with her. Nine months later, Anton Zolotov is born not only a bastard, but a child of rape.”

His ice blue eyes studied Gavin’s with a mixture of curiosity and hate.

Aurora’s mouth fell open in disbelief.  She knew her father, he would NEVER rape a woman.  It was impossible to consider. Impossible and not true, it couldn’t be!

“I spent my entire life thinking that my father was the devil, my mother, the victim. I was honed into a weapon of righteous vengeance. The Army beat me into a weapon. The Bratva  beat me into a weapon. My mother, most of all. And when, finally, I had my chance to right this wrong- to strike back against the Byrne empire- I was… joyous. My purpose had finally arrived.”

Volkov studied Gavin carefully and, for once, Gavin Byrne’s poker face was utterly failing him. Volkov could read the shock and the pain in Gavin’s expression, but he continued to twist the knife.

Tears filled Aurora’s eyes as she watched her father taking in the words of the man in front of him, his son, holding his daughter’s life in his hands.  She tore her eyes from Gavin then, and forced herself to look at the object of Volkov’s hate… no… not Volkov… Anton. She would not think of him as that monster, the thing he’d been made into.  

“The last two years have been the greatest of my life. Every week, I killed someone who worked for the Byrnes. I demolish the influence of the Byrnes, killed their allies… and I did so without a doubt in my heart.”

Volkov’s glance flipped to his mother.

“And yet,” he continued, “I am no longer untroubled. You trained me, Mother, to read the truth in people. And for the last three days, I have read this man. This family. They are not what you told me.” His voice turned cold. “Did he rape you?”

“Anton, you must understand that-”

Aurora sighed.  She didn’t even realize she’d been holding her breath.  In the emotional part of her mind she’d reacted with outrage at the idea that her father was accused of such an act and yet, a part of her logical mind held her breath in fear.  Fear that any man was capable of anything if the situation were right… maybe even the man who wasn’t yet her father. Tara and her mother, everyone who had known Gavin before he’d become a husband and father, seemed to see the changes in him -- even he let her know she did not know the man he’d been and that her mother had changed him.  Maybe, just maybe, some part of her brain understood that too and was willing to think it possible. Just for a second. And with the Daria’s hesitation, she found a wave of relief crashing down upon her. No. Her father had never been that sort of monster… whatever he’d been, he’d never been that.

“DID HE RAPE YOU?!” Volkov, for the first time, shouted and it silenced everything and everyone else in the room.

“From my point of view-”

Rage was blurring with pity seamlessly for Aurora.  Pity for Anton. Pity for her father. She wanted to take both of them in her arms and tell them both how horrible she felt for them.  And yet, in the pit of her stomach bile was churning. Aurora had only ever felt such hate two times before. That rage growing in her that she’d once lamented to Salvatore scared her to the pit of her very soul.  An anger she didn’t know how to stop. Her mother likened herself to a Dragon. Salvatore embraced the name Devil. Aurora never wanted to think of herself as capable of what either could do… not until those two moments, and now, this third.

Volkov interrupted, and his voice was ice: “Did he force himself on you?”

Daria stood up straight and said, simply, “No.”

Aurora could only imagine what Anton was thinking.  She knew she should hate him, but it wasn’t his actions that made her see red now.  Despite what he’d done to Tara, what he’d nearly done to Billy and the kids - that part of her which had trusted him in that car, still saw only the man she’d come to know in the last few days.  

She couldn’t move, couldn’t help him or her father who was clearly devastated by all of this - but she did have her hands free and some small bit of freedom to move it. It wasn’t a weapon she thought to reach for… instead, she pushed down the urge to rip someone’s face off and instead tried to focus on the part of herself that felt something other than rage.  The part of her, the part of her own mother she realized, that would do something other than kill in this moment.

Reaching her left hand back, she touched Volkov’s forearm with the tips of her fingers.  It was a simple, delicate and unforced gesture, one not meant to be threatening but she hoped… a reminder that he wasn’t alone.  If this man - her brother - killed his own mother, no matter what she’d done to him, that was a thing that she wasn’t sure anyone really ever came back from.  Whatever this lone wolf had been through his whole life, there was still a chance he walked out of this room a Byrne and some small part of her had to focus on that - it was better than focusing on the desire to kill Daria or the gun at her throat.

Volkov’s hand tightened on Aurora’s shoulder until she winced and he lessened it. Aurora could hear Volkov breathing heavily; she was no stranger to the confused rage that currently gripped his, as the foundation of one’s life was suddenly removed.

“This is over,” said Volkov, “and the Byrnes are leaving. You and I… we have much more to discuss in private. I am no longer your trained animal to use against your enemies in my ignorance.”

Daria studied the look in her son’s ice blue eyes- the same eyes she’d looked into a baby that caused her to shudder with rage and fear. How could she love him the way he wanted, when every time he looked at her she only saw the man who’d destroyed her entire family, needing only the help of a stupid, silly woman to do so.

Turning away from her son, Daria snatched up the gun on the desk.

Almost everyone else began moving at once.

Aurora, despite the strong grip of Anton, tried to shrug him off and sprint toward Daria.

Anton, cursing, raised the gun away from Aurora so, in her struggles, she wouldn’t accidentally set it off.

Tara, seeing Daria go for the gun, pushed herself in front of her brother.

Gavin, for only the second time in his life, failed to act; he was too busy staring at the gun pointed against his daughter. Pointed at her by a son he’d never known, who’d grown up distorted into a weapon the same way that Gavin had been by his own father.

Daria raised the gun and shot twice towards Gavin and Tara before Aurora reached her.

The Byrne twins both fell to the ground as Anton released Aurora, whose scream of guttural rage seemed likely to break a window as she launched herself through the air at Daria.

Aurora swiped the gun away like an animal and landed a single devastating punch in Daria’s face that sent the older woman to the ground. As she pulled her fist back to deliver a downward punch, Volkov caught it in midair.

“She will be punished, Aurora Byrne…”

Aurora struggled against the hands trying to hold her.  She could hear his words but in her head all she could feel was the pain she imagined her father, her aunt, her … brother having gone through.  

“... she is evil…”

The terror of worrying over her baby, HER SON, possibly being dead in his crib all because of this woman’s fallen crime family?  Her losses laid out before her in her mind these past months, and none of it would have made her …

“...but she is still my mother.”

It was Brigitte’s face she saw in her mind then.  Later, when reflecting on the moment, she’d wonder if it was the blue eyes.  Brigitte’s eyes were blue. Or was it the fact that there were similarities in the stories of she, her new daughter, and even Anton?  The truth was, it was the memories of her own words to Brigitte. Her thoughts as she’d signed the papers to adopt the girl - her reasons, her motives, even now what she’d hoped by starting the girl’s training.  It wasn’t just bonding time, as her father had done with her. No. It was something more. Something darker.

I will make you a queen...  I will give you a kingdom by the sea.  

“I will not let you kill her… no matter what damage she just did.”  Volkov finished and these were the first words she truly heard him saying.  Aurora looked at the woman in front of her and as Volkov pulled her away finally,for just an instant, it wasn’t Daria she saw laying there.

His eyes flicked back to Gavin and Tara as Aurora grew still.  They were lying motionless on the floor. Aurora, gasping for breath looked towards them as well.  The world became less hazy, less hot and red, and … all at once reality came crashing back. Now, she was struggling to get free for a new reason.

“DAD!”  She cried out, terrified that the worst had happened.  Free of her brother’s grip she launched herself towards her father and her aunt.
 

_______

Tara saw Daria go for the gun and her motion was instinctive. Gavin, for once, was slow: his gaze was transfixed by the gun that could end his daughter’s life in an instant, and he never saw Daria’s hand move- never saw the gun that was pointing unerringly toward his heart.

For her entire childhood, Tara remembered Gavin stepping in front of her: taking the verbal abuse, drawing attention, taking the blows that their father had intended for her. The first time he’d done it, Gavin had been five years old; that was when Tara had watched their father carve the first scar in Gavin’s back.

As he got older, she took it for granted. He was always there for her. Whenever the violent shadow of her father fell upon her, Gavin would materialize. He never won. He almost never landed a punch. When it was over, and George Byrne had vented his rage on his son, Tara would help Gavin to his feet. She learned how to care for bruises, how to stitch wounds together. She never said thank you; he didn’t need to hear it. When she could, she’d read to him, sharing the stories that her mother had taught her- stories that Gavin was not permitted to learn.

There was one day, reading Treasure Island as her mother cooked, where they felt like a normal family. The bright six year old girl grinned up at her mother, already reading books intended for a ten year old. The seventeen year old, dirty young woman who’d just seen her mother killed planted an ax in her father’s back. The nineteen year old wearing dirty leather stood at the dockyards of Philadelphia, trying to charm the Capo who was hiring them to find a dog. That twenty one year old woman fell in love with that Capo, served as his right hand, and helped him build a city, a crew worth remembering. The rest of the memories accelerated. Jack. Gavin. Bella. Aurora. Will.

William Bowden.

As the bullets ripped through her chest, Tara smirked in a way that was eerily reminiscent of her brother. She was dead before she hit the floor, and she’d never hear her brother say thank you.

She didn’t need to hear it.

______

Gavin felt the gunshot before he heard it. He’d been staring at Aurora- at Anton- at Volkov. And Daria. His mind was like a wounded animal, desperately searching for a place to rest and heal- to process. When he dropped to the floor, looking up at Daria holding the gun, he looked more confused than anything else.

He lay on the floor, struggling to move- struggling to breath.

Tara wasn’t moving. She’d stepped in front of him.

Rage was a hell of an anesthetic, and he started the process of forcing himself to move. He moved a hand- covered in blood. Whose blood?

“Dad…”  Aurora whispered, looking at poor Tara’s eyes, open still, and empty.  Aurora trembled. What could be worse than this moment? If her father had died, she would have been destroyed and a small part of her knew some relief to see it was not his blood that lay all about them… and yet, what would his father be now?  Mom. Tara. Will. Jack. The list of dead who mattered to him went on and on. She knew the pain he felt, or so she told herself, but the truth was… she couldn’t.

Gavin looked up at his daughter, and she could see his spirit battling, even as his body failed to cooperate. For a moment, he had a strange sense of deja vu, looking into doelike brown eyes on the top of a staircase.

Tara wasn’t moving.

Gavin coughed and tried to ask if Tara was alive. Nothing other than a thin stream of blood emerged from his mouth.

“Anton!” She begged, looking back to him.  “I need… I need… your help!”

Anton moved to Aurora’s side.

“You’re okay.”  She lied to her father, right to his face.  “Just… we’ll get you out of here.”

Gavin had had a lung punctured on two occasions, and he knew that’s what he was dealing with once again. Tara had stepped in front of him, absorbing or redirecting most of the damage. She still wasn’t moving.

Aurora and Anton were kneeling down next to him. His daughter. And a son? From over their shoulders, he saw a ghost silently rise, as Daria pulled herself to her feet and unsteadily raised a pistol to aim towards Gavin or Aurora.

Aurora had never seen her father’s hand move so fast.

From his position on his back, he swept his right hand forward past the gun he’d dropped and, in one smooth motion, shot Daria Zolotov between the eyes.

Still unable to speak, he pointed the gun at Volkov and looked at him for a moment. He grunted out one word, more blood, frothing, running down his chin.

“Over.”

Feeling the world start to fade, Gavin handed his gun to Aurora. Then, his world went black.

Aurora convulsed, the gun clattered to the floor, a primal scream erupted from her breasts and she fell upon her father weeping, searching for hope, a sign of life - her hands and arms covered in his blood as she searched repeating, “No… no… no.” over and again until at last she just whimpered and lay herself upon him sobbing.

How would she ever tell Will?  

“Daddy… oh Daddy.”  she cried unsure of how long she lay there, tears mingling with blood.  Finally, she allowed herself to pull away and look at the scene in total.  Aurora struggled to catch her breath, reaching a hand over to close Tara’s eyes first. 

Anton was stunned into silence; he rushed to his mother’s side. He was about to call her, but he soon realized there was no use in trying. He closed her eyes and crossed her hands over her chest.

Moving to Tara, he checked for signs of life and found none. Strange, to feel pity for a woman he’d dedicated two years to destroying. 

Aurora pulled herself up to her knees and looked down on Gavin and wondered if in his last moments he saw her like she hoped.  

Moving past Aurora, he lowered his ear to Gavin’s mouth.

“He breaths,” said Anton. 

Aurora covered her mouth, her eyes wide.  “I… I don’t know anyone… we have no one!”

“Stay with him. Staunch the wound.”

Anton stood quickly, moving to his father-in-law’s desk and picking up the phone. He made two quick phone calls before returning to Aurora’s side. 

Aurora nodded, she knew these things, but none of them had come to her in this moment.  Why had she not thought to listen for breath?  To hold in his blood.  She put her hands back down upon her father’s wound.  “Don’t go to her yet…” She whispered.  “Stay a little longer, please, Dad… please…”

“My mother…” she sobbed.  “She was murdered… not long ago.  And now…”  She shook her head.  

“I couldn’t save her.  I can’t lose him.  Our brother… he’s just a boy.  I can’t go home to tell him our father is dead too.”  She looked at Anton, desperate.

“You are stronger than this,” said Anton, matter of factly, “Take his gun. Go first. Should be no trouble, but prepare anyway.”

She looked at the gun.  Steel. Cold.  Hard.  Reliable.  The weight of it in her hand was an odd comfort.  Her father’s gun.  One father’s gun over her heart, the other in her hand.  No.  Her father, her only father, the only man who’d ever been that to her really… his gun in her hand and in her heart.  She’d keep him safe.  That she could focus on.  Anton would get him down the stairs.  He was strong.  Strong like his father.  They’d do this together.

She looked down at Tara, realizing she could not bring the other woman with her.  “Goodbye. Aunt Tara.”  She said softly, wincing at the reality of it all and then, following Anton and skirting ahead of him at the stairs.

Anton lifted Gavin gently, easily, and began carrying him toward the stairs. The guards they’d subdued were all conscious by now, but they also seemed to still be tied and gagged.   

Aurora watched each man with no small amount of hate, but her fear and love kept her from just shooting every person who glared at her from behind their gags.  Gavin needed her.  She had no time for them.  Sweeping the area as she entered each room and moved toward the front door, she hoped that her mother was with them.  They needed all the help they could get… even if her father never could bring himself to believe in it.  Now, more than ever, she found herself with an unseen eye toward heaven and the God she once could not say existed.  Again, here she was, sure she felt it watching over her.  

As they exited the building, a brown car pulled up on the sidewalk. Volkov placed Gavin in the back seat and moved around to ride shotgun, knowing that Aurora would climb in with her father. As she did so, the car sped away.

Aurora held her father, softly speaking to him, willing him to stay with her.  “We need to pick up a gift.  I promised Brigitte a gift.  Maybe … a snowglobe?  Or you could find a doll.  She needs more dolls and fewer knives I think.  A pretty one with yellow hair like hers.  I think I’ll keep my hair blonde a while.  Billy can think of me as one of those blonde bombshells from the picture shows and Brigitte… well, I’ll look like her.  We should get little Gavin a gift too.  He’s still little, but one day you can tell him all about our trip to Russia, the place with dancing bears and … snow... because in the desert he won’t ever see it.”

Anton glanced back over his shoulder, wondering if Aurora had snapped; realizing she was speaking to her father and not him or herself, he took a deep breath and focused on the road. 

“Do you remember the Grand Canyon trip?”  She chuckled through her tears.  “Do you remember how lost we got?  Oh mom was fit to be tied.  And you… you just, pitched the tent and we had the best night ever.  It wasn’t that hotel we were supposed to make it to, but I remember thinking that it was the best vacation we’d ever had.  And it really was.  Do you remember the redwood trees?”  She said brushing Gavin’s hair from his face.  “They were … so big, you could put a house inside them.  Remember?  Stay with me, Dad."

“Just, think about… operation Santa.  Do you remember?  How we took the coal truck and dumped it on that boy’s lawn.  What was his name? Can you remember it?  I can’t.  I just remember how mean he was to me and you… you always knew what to do.  We put all those toys in Johnny’s house.  Do you remember?  He didn’t have a coat.  You bought him a coat.  And toys.  Just like Santa.  We broke into Grandpa Jacks house and you left him a picture.  And…”  

Her voice caught as she remembered Tara next & couldn't bring herself to talk about the gifts from and to his sister that year.  

“Those were good days and we have so many more to come.  You’ll see my little girl grow up… teach my son how to hunt and how not avoid getting into trouble for chasing girls.”  

She laughed.

“I need you to show me how to do so much still.  I’m no parent.  I’m a weapon.  I want to be like you though… I want to do everything as well as you, not just the killing.  I need you to show me how.  What to say when they cry and when they fail… Dad I’ll fuck it up without you.  I need you to stay here a little bit longer.  I know you wanna go to Mom, and I’ve already asked too much of you to stay once before, but… just a little longer Dad.  A little bit.”

She sighed, wondering if it was right or fair of her.  Maybe the kinder thing would have been to have let him die a hero, having saved her life in that study, entangled beneath his sister’s cooling form.  Leaving life the way they’d come into it… in each other’s arms.  If he lived, she’d have to tell him that Tara was dead.  How the fuck was she going to do that?

Aurora leaned down and kissed his brow.  

Telling Gavin was going to be the price.  Her father’s joy.  Her father’s vitality perhaps, she’d have to watch him fading, slowing… he would never again be the man he was on this trip and certainly not the man he was before that dark day at Hollowpoint.  Looking down upon him now, like this, holding his blood in his body - she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way.  She wasn’t strong enough to say goodbye.  Not today.  Maybe not ever.

Anton was confused by Aurora’s incessant speaking. He had seen her strength, and she now seemed weaker to him… but as she spoke about the memories she’d had with her father, Anton consigned himself to the fact that she had lived a life that he’d never seen a glimpse of. As she spoke of her times with her father- with their father- Anton tried to do the same with his Mother. He couldn’t think of much. With a sigh, Anton decided his future; he’d help carry Gavin into the doctor’s that he’d arranged. He’d help translate for Aurora if she needed. And, whether Gavin lived or not, he’d arrange for a plane home for Aurora and Gavin. He made a mental note to get Tara’s body on the plane as well. She’d been a worthy opponent, deserving of respect. More than that, he was beginning to see that he’d seen the Byrnes through a glass darkly, as the image was twisted by his mother. They were evil, yes, but no more evil than the Bratva. No, he would quietly assist Aurora Byrne. Then… he had a great deal of thinking to do, and he needed a wider, open space for it than Moscow could provide.

Aurora paced for the better part of the first hour eventually asking Anton to help her talk to the nurses at the nurse's station and then she utilized the phone to call home to Addie to whom she gave the location of the bunker.  The instructions she gave were simple.  Go to the cabin in Seattle, find Billy, tell him the threat was over and that he must call her at this phone number as soon as possible.

From there it was back to pacing.  No thoughts of sleep or food, just ghosts of the past, fears of the future - and a fair amount of silent tears.  Aurora felt that same hollow feeling she felt that day she ran from Philly, a sense of freefall.  The world was out of control, nothing made sense and the only one she had to lean on was a man she shouldn't dare confide in let alone trust... a man who had spent the last two years tormenting and attempting to kill anyone associated with her family.

More than once she found herself staring at him, not sure where her mind was, but taking in the sight of this man who was her father's son.  A man who had all that she'd wanted - a real blood tie to Gavin Byrne - who would likely have given anything for what she had... an emotional one.  Had he not been twisted against Gavin, he would have been the eldest boy Gavin deserved.  A strong young man, every bit as strong as his father in his prime... a fitting heir to the name and legacy that both he and Tara had built: Byrne.  And now... Tara lay dead because of him.  No.  Daria.  Because of Daria.

Aurora put her face into her hands, elbows on knees and for a short while drifted in and out of maddening nightmares that made no sense at all.  Dreams where she danced with Anton on the edges of knives as wolves nipped at the heels of her bare & bloody feet, dreams where William screamed out for Aunt Tara the way he called out for mom that terrible day at Hollowpoint, dreams where her father died and where Tara had lived, and a thousand other combinations.

"Aurora Byrne?" Anton's voice and his hand touching her shoulder caused her to jerk awake.  

She looked up to him with fear.

"The phone... the nurses say an American is asking for you."

She got up quickly and rushed to the phone, "Billy?"  

It wasn't Billy though.  It was Will.  Aurora hadn't been ready to hear her brother's voice.  She stifled a sob and tried to ask how Billy and the kids were.  They were, of course, safe.  Will wanted to know why they were at a hospital though and Aurora didn't want to tell him and yet... how could she not?  

"It's... dad.  He's been shot."

"Is he going to be okay?"  She heard the tension in his voice.

Aurora sniffled.  "I don't know... they say it's his lung.  It collapsed.  They ... uh... he's still in surgery."   

"Christ.  Rora, put Aunt Tara on I.."  

Aurora didn't hear a word after that, "Please just put Billy on."

"Rora.  Stop crying... Rora?  Let me talk to Aunt Tara."

Aurora couldn't speak.  She couldn't!  She wouldn't.

After trying and failing, the youngest Byrne gave the phone to Billy and Aurora found her voice again.  "I need your help.  They... the government, they don't like bringing in bodies from other countries.  I need you to clear any red tape so we can bring Tara home.  Anton will help us get her to the airport."

And who was Anton?  Well, that began a much longer conversation, fifteen minutes to be exact and it did not begin to scratch the surface of all she had to tell him.  Tara was dead.  Dad was shot.  They'd found Volkov... and he wasn't at all who they'd expected him to be.  Anton, her brother, was here with her watching over her until she could come home safely.  Anton.  The Wolf.  Volkov.

Billy began making arrangements for the children.  It would be days before anyone with any sense would let Gavin get on a plane and he wasn't going to make her fly home alone with her father and dead Aunt.  He was coming to meet them.  Aurora didn't argue.  She simply agreed, too tired to put up a fuss.  Hanging up the phone she stood at the desk of the nurses station a long while.

Billy would tell William about Tara.  She hated that it was true, but likely Will suspected.  Billy would just confirm it so.  Bit by bit... everything that had been was falling away, leaving behind only them:  She and Will... and Katherine and... 

She looked to Anton, who was looking at her with a mix of curiosity and perhaps concern.  Those blue eyes... her father's blue eyes, how could she not have seen him looking at her every time Anton looked at her?  It was then she knew, she had.  Somehow, in her heart of hearts she must have known.  It was why she trusted him.  She trusted him because she trusted Gavin, how could she have done anything else?

Aurora crossed the waiting room and sat down beside Anton. 

"My husband is coming."  She said softly for Anton's ears only.  "My brother & his cousin are with the children now.  My husband will make it easier for us to take Tara home ... and safer for us to move dad when the time comes."

She didn't want to think of a scenario where her father didn't pull through but looking at the blood on her shins and knees, on her hands, arms and breasts - it was hard not to at least consider it.

"I'm sorry."  she finally found the words she was looking for.  She wasn't sure if she meant for her meltdown earlier, for the loss of his mother, for what happened to their father, or the loss of their Aunt, ... hell, maybe she was sorry for his whole life?  What wasn't there to be sorry for here?  Even if she had nothing to do with any of it... how did she not at least acknowledge that the whole situation was shit?

She leaned her head against the wall and looked up to the ceiling.  "Thank you for staying with me... I've had better moments.  Fuck, the last time I was the strong one.  Held it together for days.  Got everyone out and safe... maybe that was the difference here?  No one I had to worry about getting safe."

She let her head roll and looked at Anton.  "You saved his life."  Her voice was hoarse from all the yelling and crying.  "No matter what you did before... I'll never forget that cause, I was so fucked up, I didn't even..."

She looked back up at the ceiling.  She'd nearly let Gavin die, it was a hard pill to swallow.

"I know you'll say no.  I'd say no.  Hell, he'd say no.  It's who we are... but I'm also my mother's daughter and I have to at least offer."  She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, "You have a place with me.  I know it's odd. I've been the enemy so long I can't even imagine it's something you can consider today, but maybe after a while?  You're more than a weapon, Anton... we both are."

She wet her lips.

"Those scars on his body... you saw them when they ripped his shirt open I'm sure?"  She let her eyes go back up to the ceiling, her raspy words sliding out of her mouth in a near dream-like haze.  "His own father did that to him.  All before the age of sixteen I think, started when he was like... five or some shit?  He doesn't talk about it a lot, but... he knows a thing or two about people pushing you to be something.  He knows about pain from those who should have taken care of you, and what I know from his life is this: no one can make you anything you don't choose to be, at least not forever.  Everyone... anyone... can change."

She drew a breath, she wanted to make sure she meant what she was about to say - that it wasn't a lie.  "So, when I say my door is open, I mean it.  Maybe not as a sister... yet... I get that, but if you need a place to figure things out... to find a new path... get a fresh start in the States maybe?  Whatever.  Just ask."

Volkov mostly sat with his head leaning back against the wall and his powerful forearms crossed in front of his chest. His lack of emotion was in stark contrast to Aurora who, now that the fighting was over, was understandably rattled. Well, understandable to most people; Volkov still found it strange, listening to her as she thanked him, apologized, and continued to speak. He nodded at her, acknowledging her thanks.

"I know you'll say no.  I'd say no.  Hell, he'd say no.  It's who we are... but I'm also my mother's daughter and I have to at least offer."  She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, "You have a place with me.  I know it's odd. I've been the enemy so long I can't even imagine it's something you can consider today, but maybe after a while?  You're more than a weapon, Anton... we both are."

"Those scars on his body... you saw them when they ripped his shirt open I'm sure? His own father did that to him.  All before the age of sixteen I think, started when he was like... five or some shit?  He doesn't talk about it a lot, but... he knows a thing or two about people pushing you to be something.  He knows about pain from those who should have taken care of you, and what I know from his life is this: no one can make you anything you don't choose to be, at least not forever.  Everyone... anyone... can change."

"So, when I say my door is open, I mean it.  Maybe not as a sister... yet... I get that, but if you need a place to figure things out... to find a new path... get a fresh start in the States maybe?  Whatever.  Just ask."

Volkov sat silently for a long time, staring into the eyes of his half sister- Aurora stared back. She'd always thought of her father's eyes as "icy", but she saw now that that was an imperfect description. Both Gavin and Volkov had light blue eyes, but Gavin's were more... like when was taking off in an airplane, climbing above the clouds that suddenly fell away and revealed a sky so blue that it stopped your heart for a moment. Gavin's eyes were that sky, the robin egg in the first days of spring. Volkov... his eyes were the icy ones. After staring at her and studying Aurora's face, he responded to her in a steady voice.

"You are right. My answer is no. We are not enemies. I see that now. I was used as a weapon by my mother, my step-father. All my life, I have been a gun in someone's hand. If I go with you, perhaps I become your gun? Or his? You may not think this, or admit that you think this, but it is possible. I will arrange whatever transportation you need and wait until your husband arrives. In the meantime, I will go claim the resources of my mother, rightfully mine, and ensure that my half-siblings..."

He paused.

"My other half-siblings. From my mother. The Ivanovs. I will ensure that they are provided for, despite the fact that they have no love for me. And then I will find my own path and walk it. Perhaps it will take me to America someday. Before that, I have a long list of things that I must do on my own."

_______

Throughout the night, Aurora sat listening to Gavin's ragged breathing. She dozed in her chair next to him, waking often during a particularly strained breath. Volkov's doctor had removed the bullet and repaired the damage as best he could, but it would still be months- if ever- before Gavin was fully recovered.

He woke up in the middle of the night, reaching out and squeezing Aurora's hand once. She heard his labored breathing paused as he focused on one word, the strain evident in his face.

"Tara?"

Aurora just shook her head. It didn't seem like the news surprised him, but she could still see the pain of the impact on his face- even more pronounced because he was usually so skilled at hiding his reactions. He closed his eyes and sat there for what seemed like a long time before squeezing her hand again, mustering his air for another word.

"Volkov?"

"Alive."

Gavin nodded. He raised the back of Aurora's hand to his lips, held onto it as he rested his hand by his side, and then he closed his eyes. Aurora wasn't sure whether he'd fallen asleep or chose to close his eyes to block out the world and stay in his own mind- but whatever the reason was, she simply allowed it to happened. 

With a strange expression on her face, Aurora realized that this was the first time Gavin had slept in a bed since the death of her mother.

"The surgery went well.  The bullet was removed."  Anton translated.

Aurora had not touched Anton since her fingers brushed his arm in that room, but instinctively she put a hand on him for balance as her brother continued to translate, "He was in excellent health despite their first assessment, they think he will recover with time and rest.  He could awaken any time now... they are actually surprised he's not yet, but it's no reason for concern.  He's been through a lot."  

"Take me to him."  She insisted and after a few words spoken in Russian, the doctor led her to Gavin's bedside.  Anton kept his distance and watched her settle in beside him for what she guessed would be a long vigil.  It took almost twenty-four hours before exhaustion caught her and she really slept.  It was right there in the chair beside her father's bed and something told her it wouldn't be the first or last time she would find herself sleeping in a chair over the next decade or so.  The irony of their changed positions wasn't lost on her, and she mused how much where she sat had meant so much in the last week or so.  It had been a symbol each time she'd reflected upon it... and she'd give anything to trade back all those moments and the chairs that were now hers, for a lesser one. 

They brought Tara to the morgue in the hospital where she was kept for Aurora.  Anton had made the arrangements and for his part and Billy would be coming through with clearing the red tape so that she could be taken home to the U.S.  On day two, Aurora called Wildcard and asked him to help her make sure that another secret plot was dug on the opposite side of the plot which would be her dad's one day.  He tried to comfort her through the phone but Aurora didn't stay on the phone long.  Instead, she promised her friend she would come to see him ... after things calmed down.  She thanked him for keeping her secrets and being a friend to the Byrne family.  In truth, she had no way to really repay him, but she doubted he was keeping a true accounting of the debts between them.  That wasn't how the man worked.

Gavin slept a lot those two days, and the few words she spoke to her father were only to give him clarity and information, not comfort.  That wasn't how she or her father did things, she supposed.  If it was her mother she would have broken apart crying with her, they would have held each other for hours... but Dad?  Dad needed time and if she was honest, so did she.  A part of her wanted out of the hospital as badly as lioness held in a tiny cage.  She wanted to run under an open sky and leave behind this horrible dirty, depressed city that was Moscow.  She had never had any reason to come to Moscow before... and now she knew she never wanted to come back.  

Anton, she was getting better at not thinking of her brother as Volkov, brought her all the things from the basement and she was finally able to wash up and change into something not hardened with the blood of her loved ones.  The blood would never fully come out of the leather jacket though.  Where it stained it would be hard to clean, but she knew the jacket had a history with her family and so she wouldn't throw it out like she threw out her other clothes.  Besides, it was only small stains, at the wrists where the inner lining had been exposed at the cuffs.  No one but her would notice, she was sure of it.

She and her brother didn't speak much.  She wondered if that was because of all that had passed between them or if Anton was more like she and her dad than any of them would ever understand - even though he'd never met his father before.  Could it be that some things really were in the blood?  In the same way that her mother sometimes said that she had Marie's way about her?  Aurora couldn't be sure, but she liked to think so.  It meant there was more Byrne in him than whatever these monsters had tried to beat into him.

On the third day, pouring herself a cup of shitty coffee from an urn kept out for people in the waiting room, Aurora saw Billy and Charlie come in and wander up to the nurse's station.  Anton tensed as she put the cup down and broke into a run, but Aurora supposed he relaxed when he saw her leap into the arms of the large American man. 

Her arms wrapped about his shoulders, her legs about his waist, and she buried her face into the crux of his neck.  For once she didn't care that her husband carried her.  Today she welcomed his strength and leaned into it.

"Luce dei miei occhi ..."  She spoke against his skin.

Silent, Anton watched the Mastrosimone couple.  For Billy, who knew Volkov was with his wife, there was likely no other man in the room that held the same air of danger as this particular Russian.  He alone could be the killer who had hunted them so efficiently ... Gavin's son.  His wife's brother.

"He came through the surgery."  She told him after a few kisses.  "He's sleeping."