[fic] Retribution Seventeen
I must have said sorry for a dozen times for not updating for so long, but at least I can guarantee you that I will finish this fic as long as there are still people willing to read. For those who are still with me, thank you so much for your support, i wouldn't have gotten this far without you. Without further rambling, here it is, the new chapter. I hope it's not too bad.
Title: Retribution Seventeen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: violence, OOC (if you agree with FNR), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, AxA, Feodora (OC), Toh(OC), Alexei (OC)
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All VF characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, French, and newly added VIETNAMESE! (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
The roar of the jet engine signaled that help was near. Yoh wiped his forehead with his free hand as he charged forward. He didn’t have time to check if it had been sweat or blood that was dripping into his eyes. He also didn’t know how many times he’d gotten hit, how many bullets still remained inside his body, or how many actually went right through. As long as he could still remain on his feet and Fei Long was still running behind him, everything was going fine, as far as he was concerned.
They found the case just right outside the main door. Feodora had bombed the entrance to bits just before the weapon drop, clearing the area long enough for them to get geared up. Yoh picked up the headpiece and flipped the switch as he watched Fei Long arm himself to the teeth with state-of-the-art artillery, hand picked by the Arbatovs themselves. He had to admit that some of those things he didn’t even recognize. Fei Long, however, seemed to have done his homework long after his assassin business had ceased. That, or his Russian boyfriend had been keeping him very well informed on his new toys.
“I’m on,” Yoh spoke into the headpiece. It had better work or else they were as good as dead. “Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. Your location?”
He could swear Feodora’s voice had never sounded so sweet. “Still at the weapon drop.”
“There’s a helicopter around the back of the building. Can you get to it?”
Yoh paused and looked around for a second. The guards were highly concentrated around the area. He counted at least 10 of them within sight, but from what he could hear, more were being called for backup. As soon as the smoke cleared, they’d most likely be surrounded by twice as many, and that would be considered fortunate since the entire compound could fit a number much higher. There was no way they could make a run that far, and in his condition, he would only slow Fei Long down. A decision had to be made quickly, and he could see no other way. “I’ll hold them off. Fei Long will meet you there. You make sure they don’t shoot him down,” he told Feodora.
“Bullshit,” Fei Long cut in and snatched the headpiece for himself, leaving neither room nor time for the former bodyguard to protest. “Did you pack a rocket launcher?”
“It’s in the black box at the bottom of the case, along with a dozen grenades.” Did Fei Long realize she actually grew up with the guy he’d been shagging? Mikhail was more likely to forget his car key than his rocket launchers.
“We’ll be there in five. Make sure the area is secure for take off."
“Not a problem.”
Fei Long tossed the headpiece back in the case and quickly assembled the rocket launcher, wasting no time to glance at the other man, who had been staring at him with his mouth slightly opened. To Yoh, the plan may have sounded acceptable, but it would be a lie if he said he still knew who this man was. For the past eight years, Fei Long had never once taken matters in his own hands without at least taking his input into consideration. Even the way he was handling those weapons seemed different from what he remembered.
"When was the last time you’d fired one of those?" Yoh had to ask. It wasn't something Fei Long had ever stocked at Baishe, and Yoh seemed to recall the distaste on the man's face when he suggested they should.
"Never," Fei Long replied without looking up as he quickly slapped the parts together.
Great. "And?"
"He likes it when I play with his guns," the Baishe leader said, glancing playfully at his former bodyguard. "Among other things."
Yoh rolled his eyes. And he thought he was going to die because of the bullet holes in his torso. "Spare me the details." Seriously.
Fei Long smiled at the last remark and lifted the rocket launcher up on his shoulder, aiming right where most of the guards were and fired. The blast that followed created a thick curtain of smoke in the field ahead, shielding them momentarily from the guards that were still alive.
“Run!” Fei Long said as he half dragged, half carried his former bodyguard along, still holding on to the rocket launcher with his other hand.
More footsteps were approaching fast, and series of gunshots were heard behind them. Yoh looked back into the smoke and fired a few rounds from the machine gun he’d taken from the case, to buy them some time. Time. They were going to need a lot of it. He could hardly walk and it was going to take one hell of a run to get to the other side in five minutes. At that speed, they weren’t going to make it.
“Give me the rocket launcher,” Yoh said as they continued to push forward.
Having perfected their coordination during combat, Fei Long handed him the weapon out of habit and without much thought. By the time he realized what he had done, Yoh had already freed himself and quickly taken a few steps back.
“Go.” Yoh said as he placed the rocket launcher on his shoulder. This should be enough to buy them some time. “I got your back.” I always have.
Looking at the man who was standing proud and strong before him once more, Yoh knew it was the right decision he was making. Fei Long had found his place in the world and the strength to protect it. His vision seemed clear, his every step determined. Things would be different from now on. The dragon of Baishe would be all right. If he had to die today, it would be without regrets.
Fei Long felt his fingers turn cold as he understood what was happening. Having known the man for so long, there was never much Yoh had to say to get his message across. They had worked together, side by side, every day and nearly every waking hour for the past eight years; Fei Long knew exactly what those words really meant. He also knew that look. He’d seen it before on the ship, when the gun was in his hand and Yoh stood just a little over an arm’s length away as he does now, just waiting for his fate to be decided, willing to accept any outcome. Only this time, Fei Long knew the decision wasn’t his to make.
Or was it?
Fei Long took a step forward and reached out for his former bodyguard, to which Yoh responded by backing away and aiming the machine gun at him.
“Stay where you are.” This is how it has to be. He had made a decision and no one was going to change it, not even Fei Long.
“You want to shoot me, shoot me.” Fei Long said and planted his feet firmly on the ground. Yoh should know that it would take more than a gun to move him from that spot. Enough with the sacrifices. He could no longer live with one more life lost because of him, for him. His existence had been nothing but a curse for everyone he’d ever cared about from the minute he came into this world. It had to stop. “Because I’ll knock you out and drag you to the chopper if I have to.”
Another series of gunshots sounded from behind, signaling that the guards were gaining on them. Yoh took a few more steps back, still holding the gun at his former boss. “You don’t get to decide my fate, not today,” he replied, as always, without the slightest intention to deviate from his own plans. “Go save him. He needs you right now.” That should do the trick. Fei Long finally had something to live for, and he wasn’t going to be the one who stood in the way.
The blow that landed on his left side of the face came too fast for him to anticipate. He swayed to the side and lost his balance. Fei Long grabbed him before he hit the ground, forced him up, and looked him in the eyes.
“Listen to me, you stubborn son of a bitch,” he said, making sure each and every word was heard loud and clear. “I’m not going to lose another person who means something to me. Not one more, and definitely not you! I want you to live, and you’re going to fucking live for me! Now shoot that damn rocket and get your ass to the helicopter, or we’ll both die right here, right now!” He’d never used that tone with Yoh, but his patience was running low and the fact that the man had the nerve to tell him to just walk away was pissing him off beyond measure. He had let the man live twice, despite the wimp he had to become in the eyes of his subordinates and the mafia world’s at large. Knowing that Yoh still didn’t have a clue about what all that meant made him want to smack the guy in the face again, just for the sake of it.
Looking at Yoh who stood there like an immovable piece of rock, Fei Long took a deep breath and calmed himself down a notch. He’d forgotten that no amount of yelling would ever get through to Yoh once he’d made a decision. Still, the least he would expect was that the man had also known him well enough to understand and believe what he was about to say.
“You’re the only friend I have.” It wasn’t a lie. After everything they’d been through - the deception, the betrayal and all the damage that they had done to each other - Yoh remained the one and only man who truly knew and understood him - the only one from whom he had nothing to hide. “I need you.”
If time could pause, it would have that moment when Fei Long had finished the sentence. All Yoh could do was stare at him, his mind completely void of reasons and agendas he was sure he had a few minutes ago. I need you. There it was, the words that could make him surrender and give up everything - his life, his pride, his integrity - spoken by the one and only man who had the power to do so. Fei Long knew this, and had to pick this moment to say it. He wanted to damn the man for such a confession during a time like this, and yet deep down, he knew this was who Fei Long was and why his heart had been stolen in the first place.
“When all this is over, remind me to get another job.” Yoh sighed and fired the rocket launcher. “Let’s go.”
***
The jet landed smoothly at an airstrip on a private island just off the coast of Macau. Feodora rushed out of the cockpit and began pacing back and forth on the runway, waiting for the helicopter that shouldn’t be too far behind. She couldn’t make the call until she saw with her own eyes that Fei Long was safe and secure. Where the hell are they?
“Get another chopper ready,” she ordered the men who had been instructed to meet them at the runway, in case they were followed. “We leave as soon as they’re here.” At that moment, the only place safe enough would be the Arbatov villa in Macau, and the jet wouldn’t accommodate all of them. She had blown up all the helicopters and boats around the island where they were held. That should buy them enough time to get to the villa without being attacked along the way.
The sound of a helicopter approached from behind the airstrip. Feodora held a deep breath as she waited for it to land and the two men to come out. Fei Long had better step out alive or she would find herself a widow by the end of the day.
It would be the first time-- and most likely the only time-- that she felt deliriously happy to see that long black hair emerging from the helicopter. While the man had blood all over him, he was still standing. By his side was his former bodyguard, who seemed only half conscious as Fei Long supported him out of the chopper. It didn’t look good.
“He needs a medic, NOW!” was the first thing Fei Long said when he saw her.
“He’s already waiting on the chopper,” she said as she took Yoh’s other arm and placed it over her shoulder, leading both of them to the other helicopter. “Are you hit?”
“Nowhere serious.” He could count about three bullets that went right through and a few more that just grazed his skin, but none of them had hit him where it could be fatal. Yoh had made sure of it with his own flesh. “Where’s Mikhail?”
“Get to the chopper, I’ll brief you as soon as we’re in the air.”
There was reluctance in her tone that gave him a bad feeling in his stomach, and he decided to brush it aside until they took off. The first thing to do at the moment was to move to a secure location and get Yoh to a doctor before Toh’s men caught up with them.
Within minutes, the chopper was in the air. Feodora positioned herself in the co-pilot seat, giving orders for her men to blow up the helicopter they’d stolen to destroy any tracking device and making sure their destination was secure.
“Where is Mikhail?” Fei Long asked again impatiently as he helped the medic tend to Yoh’s wounds. He had to admit, a part of him wasn’t thrilled to hear the answer.
“With Toh.” It was all Feodora said before she made another call. It rang unanswered long enough for her to look at Fei Long with fear in her eyes.
The moment it was picked up, from the way her fair complexion suddenly turned pale, he knew it wasn’t who she’d expected on the other end of the line.
“Where’s my husband?” She bit down hard in an attempt to keep her voice from trembling. Her worst fear seemed to have come true.
“Is he there with you?”
Looking straight at Fei Long, who seemed to realize the situation without having to be told, she decided there would be no point in hiding the truth. “He’s here.” Mikhail would hate her for this, but her priority was her husband’s life and Fei Long was the only leverage she had.
“Put the call on speaker. I want to talk to him.”
She gave him a gesture, and Fei Long nodded immediately in response. He didn’t have to guess who was on the phone and what the man had said. He knew Toh, and because he did, he also knew to brace himself for what was to come.
She hit the button on the phone, and for a moment there was only silence. He looked at Feodora, and she at him, sharing the same feeling that crippled both of them from the tips of their fingers to their toes. A sound came through, soft and quiet - a sound of paper rubbing against foil. Then a gentle tap followed, once, and then twice.
“Such a fine cigarette he carries, wouldn’t you say, brother?”
“I’m listening. Get to the point.” He could swear hearing that voice on the phone irritated him even more than hearing it in the same room.
“Good.”
Something, or someone, moved in the background. A suffocated cough followed, accompanied by sounds of a struggle that lasted longer than a normal assault. Without having to be in the same room, Fei Long could immediately picture what was happening. He had done it too many times to a few people. He looked at Feodora and from the way she bit down on her lower lip, she too saw what he could, if not worse. After all, the Russians’ ways of doing things had always been ten times more barbaric.
“That,” Toh said, dragging his voice in the exact same way he’d always done before initiating a strike, “was the sound of my belt tightening around his neck. And this,” he paused then a click followed, “is the sound of his lighter burning that fine cigarette.”
Feodora jolted from her seat. He grabbed her wrist and forced her back down, squeezing her straining arm as he looked her in the eyes. Don’t give him that satisfaction, don’t you dare.
She understood it well enough and did what she could to remain calm and composed. Her eyes, however, would tell a completely different story.
He would never forget the sound that followed - a suffocated scream that pierced through his skin and crippled every nerve in his body all at once. His blood boiled as images flooded his mind, like grotesque movie scenes he was being forced to watch. It wasn’t much by way of torture-- he had done worse to his victims-- but the way Mikhail sounded told him the damage was far beyond physical. There were fear and dread at the heart of every kick and every breath he huffed, enough to send a shiver down Fei Long’s spine as he listened. Question after question raced through his head. Was this the sound he made some 20 years ago when the first marks were being carved on his back? How many times did he scream like this? For how long?
Another assault followed, and then another, and another. He squeezed the wrist in his hand harder as tears began to pool in her eyes and hatred swiftly replaced the blood in his veins. I will make him pay for this. I promise you.
“Tell me,” Toh said shortly after the last scream had ceased, “which would you prefer? Your name or your snake symbol on his skin?”
“Which would you?” Fei Long replied, calm and collected even when he knew his control was hanging on a very thin thread. He must not lose it. The minute he does, Toh wouldn't hesitate to get the most out of his victim. “My dagger in your heart or his wife’s grenade down your throat?”
“Perhaps we can discuss that when you’re back in your little cage...” He paused when another struggle sounded. Fei Long knew why Mikhail had reacted and what it took to put the man back in his place. “Stay,” Toh commanded his hostage, whose sound of suffocation suddenly tripled in intensity.
Don’t. Please don’t fight him. Fei Long shut his eyes as he repeated those words in his head. The more Mikhail struggles, the further it drives Toh's appetite for violence. He'd seen the depths of his madness through those eyes and the void in it. There was no one to stop him from doing the unthinkable, not even when he wanted to stop. Phillip Toh was truly alone in the world, ruthless, suicidal, and full of hatred. He was the worst kind of enemy - one that had nothing to lose.
"Surrender yourself at my headquarters in one hour,” Toh continued, "Or you will have his beautiful blue eye in a box before the day is over.”
"As for Mrs. Arbatova, I suggest you make sure he does exactly this, or I'll be happy to wrap you the remaining one with a little pink bow on top. One hour. Don't be late.”
When Toh had hung up the phone, Fei Long could tell Feodora was already thinking about which knife to skin the man with and where to start. The question was how she would proceed to secure that chance. If it had been just him, the next course of action wouldn't be too hard to decide, but with Feodora involved, that decision may not be his to make. After all, in Mikhail's absence, it was her chopper, her guns, her men and her home he was utilizing. Having lost all control of Baishe, without these things, he was just one man, and an injured one at that. She could decide to trade him in pieces to get her husband back and there would be absolutely nothing he could do about it. From the look on her face, she also understood the extent of her power.
"Take me to Mikhail.” Fei Long held her gaze as he spoke, hoping that he was right about the kind of woman that she was. “I’ll get him out.” It was a promise, to Mikhail, to himself, and to her.
She looked at him in silence for what seemed to Fei Long an eternity of being held at gunpoint. After all, this was it - the moment that could change his life, Mikhail’s and hers. This was her one chance to get rid of him and reclaim her husband, once and for all. The question was, would she understand the true consequences of that decision?
Her eyes narrowed, like a hawk’s just before delivering the plunge of death on its prey. Fei Long held his breath and cursed Mikhail in his mind. There must have been hundreds of simple minded, beautiful women clawing each other’s eyes out to marry him. What kind of masochistic fuck would pick one who was more likely to skin him alive than bring him breakfast in bed?
“What’s your plan?” She asked in the tone that sounded more like an interrogation.
It was all he needed - a consideration, a chance. The moment she had given him that, he knew he had her.
“Arm myself to the teeth, go in through the window, and kill the motherfucker,” he told her. He could hardly wait to do just that.
She gave no signs of approval or disapproval as she considered the proposal, only a look of someone carefully going through the list of the pros and cons of such an action. Then something appeared in her eyes that he could not quite place. A glimpse of longing maybe, and perhaps a touch of sadness.
“Like what he did to Alexei?”
He’d almost forgotten how much Mikhail’s brother had meant to her. After all, she had been raised as one of them. His heart ached at the thought of yet another family he had ruined, and the memory of that morning when he witnessed its destruction. But there was no time for regrets or remorse. He had to save what was left of them, even if he had to die trying.
Fei Long nodded. “Like what he did to Alexei.”
She turned to the medic, who was now wrapping up Yoh’s wounds on the back of the helicopter. He should have passed out by now, but his head turned towards her and Fei Long with his eyes wide opened. Apparently he had been listening to the entire conversation.
“Grekov,” she called her medic. He looked up promptly, like a soldier being called to attention. Men do that a lot around her. “Is he going to die?”
Yoh knotted his brow at the question. Does she really have to ask that so blatantly in front of me?
“Why?” Grekov asked before Yoh managed to open his mouth and did the exact same thing.
“I’m not going to waste time to drop him off at the villa if he’s going to die anyway,” Feodora replied with a slightly irritated tone, but one that Yoh knew didn’t lack concern for his life. What it lacked was emotion. The woman was in combat mode and was simply being efficient. A perfect commander, in his opinion. “Is he or is he not going to die?
At this point, Yoh had to admit he was also curious about the answer.
“I don't know. I have to open him up to see for sure,” Grekov replied with his thick Russian accent and simple English, moving his hands in the air to illustrate the action needed. When she gave him a look that could probably shut up a crying baby, he straightened and fixed his answer. “I’ve stopped the bleeding and he’s still breathing. I’d say 50/50?"
Yoh turned to Feodora and began to pray that she would not demand proof by the method so elegantly proposed by Grekov. 50/50. According to him and Fei Long, that didn't sound so bad, but being new to the Arbatov’s protocols, he could hardly tell if that was considered a yes or a no by their standard. If he had to guess, for someone like Feodora, the usual passing percentage should probably be something like 80.
“We’ll need weapons,” Fei Long added. That should give her more reason to go back to the villa where Yoh could be dropped off for proper medical care.
“All our choppers come fully stocked in the back. Go knock yourself out.” She brushed him off quickly, but continued to consider the situation for a moment longer and then nodded to the pilot. “We’ll drop him off at the villa, then we head to the casino.”
Yoh didn’t know what had made her arrive at the decision, but asking her why might very well make her reconsider. At that point he couldn’t care less whether he lives or dies, but he’d prefer to stay alive at least long enough to know how it would all end, to see that Fei Long would end up unharmed - most of him anyway.
Luckily for him, he was still breathing when they reached the Arbatov Villa. Grekov took preliminary care of Fei Long’s wounds and gave him a change of clothing on the way, while Feodora made sure her men would be waiting promptly when they land to receive the patient.
“She wasn’t kidding about being fully stocked,” Fei Long emerged from the back of the helicopter wearing a black tactical vest over a black, short-sleeved turtleneck. His hair was tied up tightly into a ponytail with operation goggles strapped securely just above it. It was a sight that brought back a lot of memories for Yoh. He had to admit, he was a little pissed about not being the only man who had ever seen Fei Long in that getup any longer. The man really looked good in a special ops uniform.
“So, are you going to die?” Fei Long asked, mimicking Feodora's accent as he stopped to check on his former bodyguard. Most of the time her accent was sort of American, but he was beginning to notice her native tongue slipping through when she's under pressure.
“Do I have a choice?” According to the woman of the house whose time he shouldn’t waste under pain of death, he didn’t.
Fei Long laughed a little before placing his hand on Yoh’s shoulder. “I wish you could come with me. It would be just like old times.”
To Yoh, that was considered something worth staying alive for. “Give me a shot of adrenaline or something.” He was only half kidding. At that moment, if he could at least stand, he would never let Fei Long walk into the enemy’s lair all by himself.
Smiling melancholically at the remark, he took his former bodyguard’s hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve done enough, my friend.”
“He’s right,” Feodora stepped out from the weapon room, dressed not so differently from her male counterpart and looked just as good. “This is no longer your show.”
It really wasn’t. This was Fei Long’s chance to save and protect the one he loved and finish his unfinished business once and for all - something that he wanted to, and should, do with his own hands. Feodora, however... “Should you really be going with him?”
“You bet I am.” She gave Yoh a look. “Your ex-boss here has fucked up one too many times for me to trust him with my husband’s life.”
That could be one reason, Fei Long thought. He knew better why she had to go. To her, he was considered an important leverage - one that had to be put to use effectively when things go wrong. After all, Feodora had been taught and trained by none other but Vladimir Arbatov himself how to run the family, perhaps even more extensively than his own sons, who could barely sit still for longer than five minutes at a time. She would never miss such a precaution.
“Here,” she handed Fei long a small grenade launcher. “This should be small enough for you to carry around given your injuries.”
Fei Long pushed back the weapon respectfully. “That’s all right. It’s not really my thing.”
“Get used to it,” she insisted. “After all, you’re family now.”
Family. Fei Long felt something hardened in his throat at the word; he had never associated it with anything but the cold, judging treatment of Yan Tsui and the need to fulfil a duty or repay a kindness to his father. There was no expectation or condition present in the way Feodora had uttered the word. There was nothing he had to do or tasks he had to complete. The look in her eyes was the same one Alexei had when he had told him to come "home." He could still remember it, no matter how long it had been - the uplifting feeling of having a place to return to no matter what he had done, and whether or not he had failed or succeeded. If there was one thing the Arbatovs had taught him, it was the true meaning of the word "family," and being accepted by them as one was a gift that he would die to protect.
"Thank you," he told her in Russian as he took the rocket launcher, hoping that she would understand the depths of those words.
"You're welcome," she nodded and replied in Cantonese.
She knows.
He had to take it back-- Mikhail wasn't just a masochistic crazy fuck. He had picked one hell of a woman.
***
There was a thin layer of haze in the room, and the air felt as thick as water as he breathed. The air conditioning was blowing in his direction at full strength, and yet it was as if he had just taken an hour walk in the desert. The patch of skin on his chest where the cigarette had burned felt like it was on fire, and the scars on his back seemed to come alive every time he moved. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard despite the multiple wounds on the inside of his cheek. The taste and smell of his own blood was stirring the content of his stomach in a way that he could barely keep it down. It was bad enough being tied up and beaten to a pulp by his enemy; the last thing he wanted to do was throw up in the middle of all this. Still, the way his head had been spinning out of control wasn’t helping much.
Half-way through the beatings he could hardly hear or make out a word Toh had said. His consciousness had slowly slipped away to some place else - a place he didn’t know still existed in his memory. He could still see the hotel suite and the man in it, along with the Italian curtains and every piece of furniture he had hand picked himself. And yet, at times it sounded like rain when the sun was still shining in from the windows. The leather belt seemed to stretch itself out into a blood-covered whip every time it landed on his skin, and the sound it made was like a nerve-wrecking thunder, just like that then. Sometimes he would feel the sharpness of the cuffs, other times it would be replaced by the coarseness of the ropes around his wrists. He remembered throwing up that night in the barn, and how the taste of it made his stomach turn some more. It all came back to him now; one by one like a series of waves crashing upon the shore, one after another, unstoppable and inescapable - the numbing pain on his back, the salt of his sweat, the smell of blood, puke, and cum that had never been completely washed off, no matter how hard he’d tried. For the first time in a long time he could remember exactly what he was wearing, what was torn, where and how. His body also remembered how it had lost control, how it shook and strained at every move, with every breath.
He couldn’t remember how long it went on that day in the barn - minutes, hours, or overnight. Alexei had refused to speak of it and he had never cared to ask. That day too, in the hotel suite, he had lost track of time somewhere between the punches and the lashings of Toh’s belt. After a while the beating stopped, only he knew it was far from being over. The man just needed a break - they all do at one point. Soon enough it would start all over again, like a cycle that increases in intensity the longer it goes on. To wait and endure were the only two things one can do given the circumstances. It wasn’t that hard. After a while you get used to it-everyone does.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw something moved by the windows - a shadow of someone that wasn’t Toh. He looked up and realized the sound in that room had somehow disappeared all at once. Someone was standing behind Toh with his back turned towards him - a man, tall, strong and streamlined. His chestnut hair was tied up in a neat ponytail that hung just below his collar. At first glance, he thought the man had looked familiar, and then he realized he knew the outline of that body like the back of his own hands. He knew that scent that began to fill the room too - the scent of his favorite aftershave.
Alexei.
He wasn’t sure if he had said it out loud or whether it was all in his head. It didn’t matter. His only brother turned half way towards him and looked over his shoulder. He had seen Alexei many times after he’d been gone. Sometimes in a dream, other times in a vision when he was alone. In all of them, he had appeared covered in blood or as a boy from his memory. That day he was exactly the same as when he’d last seen his brother at their father’s reception, down to the suit and the tie he wore.
Alexei caught his eyes and gave him the same look he had that night. “Are you all right?” He’d asked. It was funny how his kid brother had always been the one to worry about him, and yet all he ever did was to send the man to his death. Even then, with Alexei standing just a few steps away, he couldn’t step up to the man to give him one last embrace, to say he was sorry, to do something for the brother who had singlehandedly pulled him out of his addiction. How many times had he been through this? How many times had his hands been tied at the exact moment when everyone he loved was being taken away from him? He could still remember the crippling feeling of his uselessness when his mother had died during childbirth and all he could do was listen to her screams. Where was he, when the enemy he knew would eventually attack was gunning down his only brother? His selfishness had made him abandon the only woman he’d sworn to protect, and now he had become the only thing that stood between Fei Long and his freedom. Was there anyone in his life that he could save? Anyone at all?
“You saved me,” Alexei said with a smile on his face - the same reassuring smile he’d seen every time he woke up in a hospital during his years of addiction. “That night, you did. You saved him too. Now it’s time we save you. Pull your shit together, brother, and look to the sky.”
He couldn’t remember everything that happened afterwards with much clarity, half his consciousness had already been gone by that time. His mind was jumping from place to place, most of the time somewhere else and with someone else. What he remembered was the explosion in that room that followed just seconds later. Alexei had turned towards him with his arms wide opened and his eyes closed as the windows shattered all at once from behind. A curtain of broken glass rained down on him like a thousand diamonds falling from the sky. It was beautiful, like Alexei’s eyes, his hair, his smile, and his entire existence. Beautiful.
It was when Alexei had disappeared that he realized gunfire was erupting all around him. He could hear people shouting in the next room as a series of explosions followed, one right after another. In all that madness, someone yanked him up and dragged him behind the sofa. “Get up!” the man yelled at him and pulled him up from the floor as soon as half the firing ceased. Something cold and hard was being pressed against his skull and he was suddenly brought back to reality. “Nothing clears your mind like the feel of a gun on the back of your head,” someone once told him during his first game of Russian Roulette. “Nothing makes you feel more alive than pulling the trigger with your own hand either.” It was true most of the time, just not then. That moment, he just wanted to hear the shot that would make it all go away. That moment, he just wanted it to be over.
Someone came in through the broken windows, dressed in black from head to toe, armed with a rocket launcher, a few grenades, a lot of guns, and a katana sticking out from the back of his shoulder. Either his mind was playing tricks again, or that an angel of death had come to give him his final ride. It was all that came to his mind at first, before his visions had cleared and he began to recognize the man he had come to know like his own reflection. Fei Long was limping a little as he walked, and his once flawless face was bruised almost beyond recognition, but the burning in those eyes could never be mistaken, and this time they were burning for him. He thought if that would be the last thing he saw before he died, then he would die fulfilled.
“Bravo,” Phillip Toh said with a strange humor in his tone at the spectacle before him. “I don’t know what you’d hoped to accomplish, but I have to admit I didn’t think you had the balls for such a big entrance.”
“Drop the gun. You know you have no chance of walking out of here with your life if you kill him.” Fei Long demanded, holding his piece firmly with an unshakable grip. There had never been a day in his life when he was more certain of his aim than in that moment. It had only taken one look at the man he had come to save to know the damage Toh had caused. It wasn’t the bruises on that face, or the bloodstains that covered almost every inch of his shirt, it was the emptiness in those blue eyes that had never once shown defeat. He knew that expression by heart. He’d seen it everyday in the prison mirrors. Some things had been taken away from him - things that may never again be restored. This was what Alexei and Feodora had always feared - a relapse they may not be able to fix the second time around.
Fei Long bit his lip as he tried to keep his control in check. There wasn’t a time in his life when he’d hated himself more. How many times had he been given a chance to end his feud with Asami and he didn’t? How many times had Mikhail tried to make him walk away when everything was still fine and he’d refused? How could he have allowed it to come to this when he’d had so many chances to avoid it? Why did I leave you?
“My life?” There was a certain kind of madness in Toh’s eyes as he said those words, perhaps even satisfaction in the possibility of such an outcome. “What makes you think that I would let such a petty thing get in my way? The way I see it, it’s his life you have to worry about, not mine.” It was almost too easy for him to see just how precious his leverage was to Fei Long. He should have realized this from the very beginning. The most effective way to torture his little brother was through his heart. “Allow me to demonstrate if your brain hasn’t yet caught up with the situation at hand.”
The shot that followed rang sharp and clear in Fei Long’s mind like the bullet that went through his chest eight years ago - a shot so clean and precise, delivered by the hand that knew no hesitation. He could still recall the way it felt, from the moment the gun was fired, to the way the bullet had pierced through his flesh. Only that day it wasn’t his blood that was dripping on the carpet, it was Mikhail’s. Where the father’s bullet had missed by an inch, his son had made sure it hit with deadly precision. He remembered that feeling from years ago when his father was lying helplessly in his arms - how the sky seemed to have fallen right before his eyes, and its weight was crushing down upon him all at once. The mere thought of losing Mikhail had brought it all back, only this time everything was multiplied ten fold - the anger, the fear, the numbness that spread quickly through all his limbs and, most of all, his failure.
He should have taken that window to shoot his enemy, but all he could do was stand there staring at the two of them from across the room, breathless and shaken out of his mind. Mikhail was down on his knees, held up only by the grip of the other man on his collar, still with a gun pressed to his head. It was only when he began to move that Fei Long found himself breathing again. The bullet had gone through the back of his right shoulder and out just below his collarbone - a clean wound, given that the bleeding is tended to in time.
“I have nine more bullets to demonstrate my conviction,” Toh said, almost with a melodic hum in the back of his throat, “Every minute that you hesitate to surrender, he bleeds closer to his death. Why don’t you ask yourself, little brother, how many exactly can you stand?”
He didn’t have a problem surrendering himself to Toh all over again. It would be the kind of hell that was much less torturous than what was being presented to him now. Surrendering was the best choice given the circumstances and he had been prepared to do exactly that the moment he decided to suit up for the attack. Still, deep down he knew just as Toh did, that none of it would ever stop. Mikhail would never stop trying to save him, and Toh would never stop utilizing that fact to his advantage. The only person who could put an end to all this was him, and the solution was right there in his hand.
“It pisses me off that you think you know exactly what I can or can’t stand,” Fei Long said as he lowered his gun, playing with the piece absentmindedly as he spoke, “and yet you forget that I, too, know exactly what you are and what aren’t willing to sacrifice.” He raised the gun again, this time aiming at the real enemy that had been the source of every tragic event in his life for nearly three decades. “Let him go,” he pressed the barrel firmly against his temple, “or I will rid you of the one thing you’re willing to sacrifice your life for.” It was the only thing Toh had ever wanted - retribution by his own hands. Toh would never allow him to take his own life - he was willing to gamble with that assumption. It didn’t matter if he was right. Either way, if he dies, all this would come to an end.
“What makes you think I’d believe that you could or would actually pull the trigger?” Toh responded amusingly. He had to admit he was a little surprised.
“That’s my life you’re holding in your hand.” Fei Long said, gripping the gun tighter in his hand. Above all, Toh should know the price of his bargaining chip; it was the only reason why Mikhail had been brought into this in the first place. “If he goes, I go too. Only this way I get to piss the fuck out of you. Can’t think of a better reason to die at the moment, if you ask me.”
There was a hint of irritation on Toh’s face as his victorious smirk slowly faded. Had those words been backed by anything but those eyes that dared him with unshakable conviction, he would have found such a threat rather fruitless. Fei Long’s emotions may have been his most vulnerable weakness, but for the same reason, it was the source of his strength. There wasn’t a trace of hesitation to be found in those words or the finger that rested on the trigger. No amount of torture had ever driven the man so close to his limits like the shot he had just fired. That’s my life you’re holding in your hand. Looking at the man then, he knew it wasn’t a lie. For Mikhail Arbatov, Fei Long would pull the trigger.
“If you’re so eager to die,” Toh said, this time without the usual smirk on his face, “then let’s finish it. You and me, right here, right now. Drop your guns, I’ll drop him.”
It may have sounded like a lost cause, knowing full well the strength and skill of his opponent. Even without his existing injuries, Fei Long knew he had little chance of winning in a hand-to-hand combat with Phillip Toh. Still, a chance was a chance, and he could hardly deny the opportunity to beat the crap out of this prick. Even if I have to die trying, then so be it.
He took off the vest and tossed it on the floor, kicking it to the side where he carefully laid down the katana. The rest of what he’d packed went to the same pile soon after, except for the gun he was holding. “Your turn,” he said to Toh, his eyes fixated on the man who was still kneeling silently on the floor that had already been well covered with his blood.
How far will you go for love? Someone once asked him the question he didn’t know how to answer.
Just stay with me a little longer. I’ll show you just how far.
***
A/N: Hate it, like it? Please do leave a comment so I know people are still reading this. ^_^ Anonymous readers, don't be shy, I don't bite. See you next chapter and hopefully muse would be kind enough to let me update sooner. *hugs all* Now I have to run to my girl's basketball match!
Title: Retribution Seventeen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: violence, OOC (if you agree with FNR), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, AxA, Feodora (OC), Toh(OC), Alexei (OC)
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All VF characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, French, and newly added VIETNAMESE! (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
The roar of the jet engine signaled that help was near. Yoh wiped his forehead with his free hand as he charged forward. He didn’t have time to check if it had been sweat or blood that was dripping into his eyes. He also didn’t know how many times he’d gotten hit, how many bullets still remained inside his body, or how many actually went right through. As long as he could still remain on his feet and Fei Long was still running behind him, everything was going fine, as far as he was concerned.
They found the case just right outside the main door. Feodora had bombed the entrance to bits just before the weapon drop, clearing the area long enough for them to get geared up. Yoh picked up the headpiece and flipped the switch as he watched Fei Long arm himself to the teeth with state-of-the-art artillery, hand picked by the Arbatovs themselves. He had to admit that some of those things he didn’t even recognize. Fei Long, however, seemed to have done his homework long after his assassin business had ceased. That, or his Russian boyfriend had been keeping him very well informed on his new toys.
“I’m on,” Yoh spoke into the headpiece. It had better work or else they were as good as dead. “Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. Your location?”
He could swear Feodora’s voice had never sounded so sweet. “Still at the weapon drop.”
“There’s a helicopter around the back of the building. Can you get to it?”
Yoh paused and looked around for a second. The guards were highly concentrated around the area. He counted at least 10 of them within sight, but from what he could hear, more were being called for backup. As soon as the smoke cleared, they’d most likely be surrounded by twice as many, and that would be considered fortunate since the entire compound could fit a number much higher. There was no way they could make a run that far, and in his condition, he would only slow Fei Long down. A decision had to be made quickly, and he could see no other way. “I’ll hold them off. Fei Long will meet you there. You make sure they don’t shoot him down,” he told Feodora.
“Bullshit,” Fei Long cut in and snatched the headpiece for himself, leaving neither room nor time for the former bodyguard to protest. “Did you pack a rocket launcher?”
“It’s in the black box at the bottom of the case, along with a dozen grenades.” Did Fei Long realize she actually grew up with the guy he’d been shagging? Mikhail was more likely to forget his car key than his rocket launchers.
“We’ll be there in five. Make sure the area is secure for take off."
“Not a problem.”
Fei Long tossed the headpiece back in the case and quickly assembled the rocket launcher, wasting no time to glance at the other man, who had been staring at him with his mouth slightly opened. To Yoh, the plan may have sounded acceptable, but it would be a lie if he said he still knew who this man was. For the past eight years, Fei Long had never once taken matters in his own hands without at least taking his input into consideration. Even the way he was handling those weapons seemed different from what he remembered.
"When was the last time you’d fired one of those?" Yoh had to ask. It wasn't something Fei Long had ever stocked at Baishe, and Yoh seemed to recall the distaste on the man's face when he suggested they should.
"Never," Fei Long replied without looking up as he quickly slapped the parts together.
Great. "And?"
"He likes it when I play with his guns," the Baishe leader said, glancing playfully at his former bodyguard. "Among other things."
Yoh rolled his eyes. And he thought he was going to die because of the bullet holes in his torso. "Spare me the details." Seriously.
Fei Long smiled at the last remark and lifted the rocket launcher up on his shoulder, aiming right where most of the guards were and fired. The blast that followed created a thick curtain of smoke in the field ahead, shielding them momentarily from the guards that were still alive.
“Run!” Fei Long said as he half dragged, half carried his former bodyguard along, still holding on to the rocket launcher with his other hand.
More footsteps were approaching fast, and series of gunshots were heard behind them. Yoh looked back into the smoke and fired a few rounds from the machine gun he’d taken from the case, to buy them some time. Time. They were going to need a lot of it. He could hardly walk and it was going to take one hell of a run to get to the other side in five minutes. At that speed, they weren’t going to make it.
“Give me the rocket launcher,” Yoh said as they continued to push forward.
Having perfected their coordination during combat, Fei Long handed him the weapon out of habit and without much thought. By the time he realized what he had done, Yoh had already freed himself and quickly taken a few steps back.
“Go.” Yoh said as he placed the rocket launcher on his shoulder. This should be enough to buy them some time. “I got your back.” I always have.
Looking at the man who was standing proud and strong before him once more, Yoh knew it was the right decision he was making. Fei Long had found his place in the world and the strength to protect it. His vision seemed clear, his every step determined. Things would be different from now on. The dragon of Baishe would be all right. If he had to die today, it would be without regrets.
Fei Long felt his fingers turn cold as he understood what was happening. Having known the man for so long, there was never much Yoh had to say to get his message across. They had worked together, side by side, every day and nearly every waking hour for the past eight years; Fei Long knew exactly what those words really meant. He also knew that look. He’d seen it before on the ship, when the gun was in his hand and Yoh stood just a little over an arm’s length away as he does now, just waiting for his fate to be decided, willing to accept any outcome. Only this time, Fei Long knew the decision wasn’t his to make.
Or was it?
Fei Long took a step forward and reached out for his former bodyguard, to which Yoh responded by backing away and aiming the machine gun at him.
“Stay where you are.” This is how it has to be. He had made a decision and no one was going to change it, not even Fei Long.
“You want to shoot me, shoot me.” Fei Long said and planted his feet firmly on the ground. Yoh should know that it would take more than a gun to move him from that spot. Enough with the sacrifices. He could no longer live with one more life lost because of him, for him. His existence had been nothing but a curse for everyone he’d ever cared about from the minute he came into this world. It had to stop. “Because I’ll knock you out and drag you to the chopper if I have to.”
Another series of gunshots sounded from behind, signaling that the guards were gaining on them. Yoh took a few more steps back, still holding the gun at his former boss. “You don’t get to decide my fate, not today,” he replied, as always, without the slightest intention to deviate from his own plans. “Go save him. He needs you right now.” That should do the trick. Fei Long finally had something to live for, and he wasn’t going to be the one who stood in the way.
The blow that landed on his left side of the face came too fast for him to anticipate. He swayed to the side and lost his balance. Fei Long grabbed him before he hit the ground, forced him up, and looked him in the eyes.
“Listen to me, you stubborn son of a bitch,” he said, making sure each and every word was heard loud and clear. “I’m not going to lose another person who means something to me. Not one more, and definitely not you! I want you to live, and you’re going to fucking live for me! Now shoot that damn rocket and get your ass to the helicopter, or we’ll both die right here, right now!” He’d never used that tone with Yoh, but his patience was running low and the fact that the man had the nerve to tell him to just walk away was pissing him off beyond measure. He had let the man live twice, despite the wimp he had to become in the eyes of his subordinates and the mafia world’s at large. Knowing that Yoh still didn’t have a clue about what all that meant made him want to smack the guy in the face again, just for the sake of it.
Looking at Yoh who stood there like an immovable piece of rock, Fei Long took a deep breath and calmed himself down a notch. He’d forgotten that no amount of yelling would ever get through to Yoh once he’d made a decision. Still, the least he would expect was that the man had also known him well enough to understand and believe what he was about to say.
“You’re the only friend I have.” It wasn’t a lie. After everything they’d been through - the deception, the betrayal and all the damage that they had done to each other - Yoh remained the one and only man who truly knew and understood him - the only one from whom he had nothing to hide. “I need you.”
If time could pause, it would have that moment when Fei Long had finished the sentence. All Yoh could do was stare at him, his mind completely void of reasons and agendas he was sure he had a few minutes ago. I need you. There it was, the words that could make him surrender and give up everything - his life, his pride, his integrity - spoken by the one and only man who had the power to do so. Fei Long knew this, and had to pick this moment to say it. He wanted to damn the man for such a confession during a time like this, and yet deep down, he knew this was who Fei Long was and why his heart had been stolen in the first place.
“When all this is over, remind me to get another job.” Yoh sighed and fired the rocket launcher. “Let’s go.”
***
The jet landed smoothly at an airstrip on a private island just off the coast of Macau. Feodora rushed out of the cockpit and began pacing back and forth on the runway, waiting for the helicopter that shouldn’t be too far behind. She couldn’t make the call until she saw with her own eyes that Fei Long was safe and secure. Where the hell are they?
“Get another chopper ready,” she ordered the men who had been instructed to meet them at the runway, in case they were followed. “We leave as soon as they’re here.” At that moment, the only place safe enough would be the Arbatov villa in Macau, and the jet wouldn’t accommodate all of them. She had blown up all the helicopters and boats around the island where they were held. That should buy them enough time to get to the villa without being attacked along the way.
The sound of a helicopter approached from behind the airstrip. Feodora held a deep breath as she waited for it to land and the two men to come out. Fei Long had better step out alive or she would find herself a widow by the end of the day.
It would be the first time-- and most likely the only time-- that she felt deliriously happy to see that long black hair emerging from the helicopter. While the man had blood all over him, he was still standing. By his side was his former bodyguard, who seemed only half conscious as Fei Long supported him out of the chopper. It didn’t look good.
“He needs a medic, NOW!” was the first thing Fei Long said when he saw her.
“He’s already waiting on the chopper,” she said as she took Yoh’s other arm and placed it over her shoulder, leading both of them to the other helicopter. “Are you hit?”
“Nowhere serious.” He could count about three bullets that went right through and a few more that just grazed his skin, but none of them had hit him where it could be fatal. Yoh had made sure of it with his own flesh. “Where’s Mikhail?”
“Get to the chopper, I’ll brief you as soon as we’re in the air.”
There was reluctance in her tone that gave him a bad feeling in his stomach, and he decided to brush it aside until they took off. The first thing to do at the moment was to move to a secure location and get Yoh to a doctor before Toh’s men caught up with them.
Within minutes, the chopper was in the air. Feodora positioned herself in the co-pilot seat, giving orders for her men to blow up the helicopter they’d stolen to destroy any tracking device and making sure their destination was secure.
“Where is Mikhail?” Fei Long asked again impatiently as he helped the medic tend to Yoh’s wounds. He had to admit, a part of him wasn’t thrilled to hear the answer.
“With Toh.” It was all Feodora said before she made another call. It rang unanswered long enough for her to look at Fei Long with fear in her eyes.
The moment it was picked up, from the way her fair complexion suddenly turned pale, he knew it wasn’t who she’d expected on the other end of the line.
“Where’s my husband?” She bit down hard in an attempt to keep her voice from trembling. Her worst fear seemed to have come true.
“Is he there with you?”
Looking straight at Fei Long, who seemed to realize the situation without having to be told, she decided there would be no point in hiding the truth. “He’s here.” Mikhail would hate her for this, but her priority was her husband’s life and Fei Long was the only leverage she had.
“Put the call on speaker. I want to talk to him.”
She gave him a gesture, and Fei Long nodded immediately in response. He didn’t have to guess who was on the phone and what the man had said. He knew Toh, and because he did, he also knew to brace himself for what was to come.
She hit the button on the phone, and for a moment there was only silence. He looked at Feodora, and she at him, sharing the same feeling that crippled both of them from the tips of their fingers to their toes. A sound came through, soft and quiet - a sound of paper rubbing against foil. Then a gentle tap followed, once, and then twice.
“Such a fine cigarette he carries, wouldn’t you say, brother?”
“I’m listening. Get to the point.” He could swear hearing that voice on the phone irritated him even more than hearing it in the same room.
“Good.”
Something, or someone, moved in the background. A suffocated cough followed, accompanied by sounds of a struggle that lasted longer than a normal assault. Without having to be in the same room, Fei Long could immediately picture what was happening. He had done it too many times to a few people. He looked at Feodora and from the way she bit down on her lower lip, she too saw what he could, if not worse. After all, the Russians’ ways of doing things had always been ten times more barbaric.
“That,” Toh said, dragging his voice in the exact same way he’d always done before initiating a strike, “was the sound of my belt tightening around his neck. And this,” he paused then a click followed, “is the sound of his lighter burning that fine cigarette.”
Feodora jolted from her seat. He grabbed her wrist and forced her back down, squeezing her straining arm as he looked her in the eyes. Don’t give him that satisfaction, don’t you dare.
She understood it well enough and did what she could to remain calm and composed. Her eyes, however, would tell a completely different story.
He would never forget the sound that followed - a suffocated scream that pierced through his skin and crippled every nerve in his body all at once. His blood boiled as images flooded his mind, like grotesque movie scenes he was being forced to watch. It wasn’t much by way of torture-- he had done worse to his victims-- but the way Mikhail sounded told him the damage was far beyond physical. There were fear and dread at the heart of every kick and every breath he huffed, enough to send a shiver down Fei Long’s spine as he listened. Question after question raced through his head. Was this the sound he made some 20 years ago when the first marks were being carved on his back? How many times did he scream like this? For how long?
Another assault followed, and then another, and another. He squeezed the wrist in his hand harder as tears began to pool in her eyes and hatred swiftly replaced the blood in his veins. I will make him pay for this. I promise you.
“Tell me,” Toh said shortly after the last scream had ceased, “which would you prefer? Your name or your snake symbol on his skin?”
“Which would you?” Fei Long replied, calm and collected even when he knew his control was hanging on a very thin thread. He must not lose it. The minute he does, Toh wouldn't hesitate to get the most out of his victim. “My dagger in your heart or his wife’s grenade down your throat?”
“Perhaps we can discuss that when you’re back in your little cage...” He paused when another struggle sounded. Fei Long knew why Mikhail had reacted and what it took to put the man back in his place. “Stay,” Toh commanded his hostage, whose sound of suffocation suddenly tripled in intensity.
Don’t. Please don’t fight him. Fei Long shut his eyes as he repeated those words in his head. The more Mikhail struggles, the further it drives Toh's appetite for violence. He'd seen the depths of his madness through those eyes and the void in it. There was no one to stop him from doing the unthinkable, not even when he wanted to stop. Phillip Toh was truly alone in the world, ruthless, suicidal, and full of hatred. He was the worst kind of enemy - one that had nothing to lose.
"Surrender yourself at my headquarters in one hour,” Toh continued, "Or you will have his beautiful blue eye in a box before the day is over.”
"As for Mrs. Arbatova, I suggest you make sure he does exactly this, or I'll be happy to wrap you the remaining one with a little pink bow on top. One hour. Don't be late.”
When Toh had hung up the phone, Fei Long could tell Feodora was already thinking about which knife to skin the man with and where to start. The question was how she would proceed to secure that chance. If it had been just him, the next course of action wouldn't be too hard to decide, but with Feodora involved, that decision may not be his to make. After all, in Mikhail's absence, it was her chopper, her guns, her men and her home he was utilizing. Having lost all control of Baishe, without these things, he was just one man, and an injured one at that. She could decide to trade him in pieces to get her husband back and there would be absolutely nothing he could do about it. From the look on her face, she also understood the extent of her power.
"Take me to Mikhail.” Fei Long held her gaze as he spoke, hoping that he was right about the kind of woman that she was. “I’ll get him out.” It was a promise, to Mikhail, to himself, and to her.
She looked at him in silence for what seemed to Fei Long an eternity of being held at gunpoint. After all, this was it - the moment that could change his life, Mikhail’s and hers. This was her one chance to get rid of him and reclaim her husband, once and for all. The question was, would she understand the true consequences of that decision?
Her eyes narrowed, like a hawk’s just before delivering the plunge of death on its prey. Fei Long held his breath and cursed Mikhail in his mind. There must have been hundreds of simple minded, beautiful women clawing each other’s eyes out to marry him. What kind of masochistic fuck would pick one who was more likely to skin him alive than bring him breakfast in bed?
“What’s your plan?” She asked in the tone that sounded more like an interrogation.
It was all he needed - a consideration, a chance. The moment she had given him that, he knew he had her.
“Arm myself to the teeth, go in through the window, and kill the motherfucker,” he told her. He could hardly wait to do just that.
She gave no signs of approval or disapproval as she considered the proposal, only a look of someone carefully going through the list of the pros and cons of such an action. Then something appeared in her eyes that he could not quite place. A glimpse of longing maybe, and perhaps a touch of sadness.
“Like what he did to Alexei?”
He’d almost forgotten how much Mikhail’s brother had meant to her. After all, she had been raised as one of them. His heart ached at the thought of yet another family he had ruined, and the memory of that morning when he witnessed its destruction. But there was no time for regrets or remorse. He had to save what was left of them, even if he had to die trying.
Fei Long nodded. “Like what he did to Alexei.”
She turned to the medic, who was now wrapping up Yoh’s wounds on the back of the helicopter. He should have passed out by now, but his head turned towards her and Fei Long with his eyes wide opened. Apparently he had been listening to the entire conversation.
“Grekov,” she called her medic. He looked up promptly, like a soldier being called to attention. Men do that a lot around her. “Is he going to die?”
Yoh knotted his brow at the question. Does she really have to ask that so blatantly in front of me?
“Why?” Grekov asked before Yoh managed to open his mouth and did the exact same thing.
“I’m not going to waste time to drop him off at the villa if he’s going to die anyway,” Feodora replied with a slightly irritated tone, but one that Yoh knew didn’t lack concern for his life. What it lacked was emotion. The woman was in combat mode and was simply being efficient. A perfect commander, in his opinion. “Is he or is he not going to die?
At this point, Yoh had to admit he was also curious about the answer.
“I don't know. I have to open him up to see for sure,” Grekov replied with his thick Russian accent and simple English, moving his hands in the air to illustrate the action needed. When she gave him a look that could probably shut up a crying baby, he straightened and fixed his answer. “I’ve stopped the bleeding and he’s still breathing. I’d say 50/50?"
Yoh turned to Feodora and began to pray that she would not demand proof by the method so elegantly proposed by Grekov. 50/50. According to him and Fei Long, that didn't sound so bad, but being new to the Arbatov’s protocols, he could hardly tell if that was considered a yes or a no by their standard. If he had to guess, for someone like Feodora, the usual passing percentage should probably be something like 80.
“We’ll need weapons,” Fei Long added. That should give her more reason to go back to the villa where Yoh could be dropped off for proper medical care.
“All our choppers come fully stocked in the back. Go knock yourself out.” She brushed him off quickly, but continued to consider the situation for a moment longer and then nodded to the pilot. “We’ll drop him off at the villa, then we head to the casino.”
Yoh didn’t know what had made her arrive at the decision, but asking her why might very well make her reconsider. At that point he couldn’t care less whether he lives or dies, but he’d prefer to stay alive at least long enough to know how it would all end, to see that Fei Long would end up unharmed - most of him anyway.
Luckily for him, he was still breathing when they reached the Arbatov Villa. Grekov took preliminary care of Fei Long’s wounds and gave him a change of clothing on the way, while Feodora made sure her men would be waiting promptly when they land to receive the patient.
“She wasn’t kidding about being fully stocked,” Fei Long emerged from the back of the helicopter wearing a black tactical vest over a black, short-sleeved turtleneck. His hair was tied up tightly into a ponytail with operation goggles strapped securely just above it. It was a sight that brought back a lot of memories for Yoh. He had to admit, he was a little pissed about not being the only man who had ever seen Fei Long in that getup any longer. The man really looked good in a special ops uniform.
“So, are you going to die?” Fei Long asked, mimicking Feodora's accent as he stopped to check on his former bodyguard. Most of the time her accent was sort of American, but he was beginning to notice her native tongue slipping through when she's under pressure.
“Do I have a choice?” According to the woman of the house whose time he shouldn’t waste under pain of death, he didn’t.
Fei Long laughed a little before placing his hand on Yoh’s shoulder. “I wish you could come with me. It would be just like old times.”
To Yoh, that was considered something worth staying alive for. “Give me a shot of adrenaline or something.” He was only half kidding. At that moment, if he could at least stand, he would never let Fei Long walk into the enemy’s lair all by himself.
Smiling melancholically at the remark, he took his former bodyguard’s hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve done enough, my friend.”
“He’s right,” Feodora stepped out from the weapon room, dressed not so differently from her male counterpart and looked just as good. “This is no longer your show.”
It really wasn’t. This was Fei Long’s chance to save and protect the one he loved and finish his unfinished business once and for all - something that he wanted to, and should, do with his own hands. Feodora, however... “Should you really be going with him?”
“You bet I am.” She gave Yoh a look. “Your ex-boss here has fucked up one too many times for me to trust him with my husband’s life.”
That could be one reason, Fei Long thought. He knew better why she had to go. To her, he was considered an important leverage - one that had to be put to use effectively when things go wrong. After all, Feodora had been taught and trained by none other but Vladimir Arbatov himself how to run the family, perhaps even more extensively than his own sons, who could barely sit still for longer than five minutes at a time. She would never miss such a precaution.
“Here,” she handed Fei long a small grenade launcher. “This should be small enough for you to carry around given your injuries.”
Fei Long pushed back the weapon respectfully. “That’s all right. It’s not really my thing.”
“Get used to it,” she insisted. “After all, you’re family now.”
Family. Fei Long felt something hardened in his throat at the word; he had never associated it with anything but the cold, judging treatment of Yan Tsui and the need to fulfil a duty or repay a kindness to his father. There was no expectation or condition present in the way Feodora had uttered the word. There was nothing he had to do or tasks he had to complete. The look in her eyes was the same one Alexei had when he had told him to come "home." He could still remember it, no matter how long it had been - the uplifting feeling of having a place to return to no matter what he had done, and whether or not he had failed or succeeded. If there was one thing the Arbatovs had taught him, it was the true meaning of the word "family," and being accepted by them as one was a gift that he would die to protect.
"Thank you," he told her in Russian as he took the rocket launcher, hoping that she would understand the depths of those words.
"You're welcome," she nodded and replied in Cantonese.
She knows.
He had to take it back-- Mikhail wasn't just a masochistic crazy fuck. He had picked one hell of a woman.
***
There was a thin layer of haze in the room, and the air felt as thick as water as he breathed. The air conditioning was blowing in his direction at full strength, and yet it was as if he had just taken an hour walk in the desert. The patch of skin on his chest where the cigarette had burned felt like it was on fire, and the scars on his back seemed to come alive every time he moved. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard despite the multiple wounds on the inside of his cheek. The taste and smell of his own blood was stirring the content of his stomach in a way that he could barely keep it down. It was bad enough being tied up and beaten to a pulp by his enemy; the last thing he wanted to do was throw up in the middle of all this. Still, the way his head had been spinning out of control wasn’t helping much.
Half-way through the beatings he could hardly hear or make out a word Toh had said. His consciousness had slowly slipped away to some place else - a place he didn’t know still existed in his memory. He could still see the hotel suite and the man in it, along with the Italian curtains and every piece of furniture he had hand picked himself. And yet, at times it sounded like rain when the sun was still shining in from the windows. The leather belt seemed to stretch itself out into a blood-covered whip every time it landed on his skin, and the sound it made was like a nerve-wrecking thunder, just like that then. Sometimes he would feel the sharpness of the cuffs, other times it would be replaced by the coarseness of the ropes around his wrists. He remembered throwing up that night in the barn, and how the taste of it made his stomach turn some more. It all came back to him now; one by one like a series of waves crashing upon the shore, one after another, unstoppable and inescapable - the numbing pain on his back, the salt of his sweat, the smell of blood, puke, and cum that had never been completely washed off, no matter how hard he’d tried. For the first time in a long time he could remember exactly what he was wearing, what was torn, where and how. His body also remembered how it had lost control, how it shook and strained at every move, with every breath.
He couldn’t remember how long it went on that day in the barn - minutes, hours, or overnight. Alexei had refused to speak of it and he had never cared to ask. That day too, in the hotel suite, he had lost track of time somewhere between the punches and the lashings of Toh’s belt. After a while the beating stopped, only he knew it was far from being over. The man just needed a break - they all do at one point. Soon enough it would start all over again, like a cycle that increases in intensity the longer it goes on. To wait and endure were the only two things one can do given the circumstances. It wasn’t that hard. After a while you get used to it-everyone does.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw something moved by the windows - a shadow of someone that wasn’t Toh. He looked up and realized the sound in that room had somehow disappeared all at once. Someone was standing behind Toh with his back turned towards him - a man, tall, strong and streamlined. His chestnut hair was tied up in a neat ponytail that hung just below his collar. At first glance, he thought the man had looked familiar, and then he realized he knew the outline of that body like the back of his own hands. He knew that scent that began to fill the room too - the scent of his favorite aftershave.
Alexei.
He wasn’t sure if he had said it out loud or whether it was all in his head. It didn’t matter. His only brother turned half way towards him and looked over his shoulder. He had seen Alexei many times after he’d been gone. Sometimes in a dream, other times in a vision when he was alone. In all of them, he had appeared covered in blood or as a boy from his memory. That day he was exactly the same as when he’d last seen his brother at their father’s reception, down to the suit and the tie he wore.
Alexei caught his eyes and gave him the same look he had that night. “Are you all right?” He’d asked. It was funny how his kid brother had always been the one to worry about him, and yet all he ever did was to send the man to his death. Even then, with Alexei standing just a few steps away, he couldn’t step up to the man to give him one last embrace, to say he was sorry, to do something for the brother who had singlehandedly pulled him out of his addiction. How many times had he been through this? How many times had his hands been tied at the exact moment when everyone he loved was being taken away from him? He could still remember the crippling feeling of his uselessness when his mother had died during childbirth and all he could do was listen to her screams. Where was he, when the enemy he knew would eventually attack was gunning down his only brother? His selfishness had made him abandon the only woman he’d sworn to protect, and now he had become the only thing that stood between Fei Long and his freedom. Was there anyone in his life that he could save? Anyone at all?
“You saved me,” Alexei said with a smile on his face - the same reassuring smile he’d seen every time he woke up in a hospital during his years of addiction. “That night, you did. You saved him too. Now it’s time we save you. Pull your shit together, brother, and look to the sky.”
He couldn’t remember everything that happened afterwards with much clarity, half his consciousness had already been gone by that time. His mind was jumping from place to place, most of the time somewhere else and with someone else. What he remembered was the explosion in that room that followed just seconds later. Alexei had turned towards him with his arms wide opened and his eyes closed as the windows shattered all at once from behind. A curtain of broken glass rained down on him like a thousand diamonds falling from the sky. It was beautiful, like Alexei’s eyes, his hair, his smile, and his entire existence. Beautiful.
It was when Alexei had disappeared that he realized gunfire was erupting all around him. He could hear people shouting in the next room as a series of explosions followed, one right after another. In all that madness, someone yanked him up and dragged him behind the sofa. “Get up!” the man yelled at him and pulled him up from the floor as soon as half the firing ceased. Something cold and hard was being pressed against his skull and he was suddenly brought back to reality. “Nothing clears your mind like the feel of a gun on the back of your head,” someone once told him during his first game of Russian Roulette. “Nothing makes you feel more alive than pulling the trigger with your own hand either.” It was true most of the time, just not then. That moment, he just wanted to hear the shot that would make it all go away. That moment, he just wanted it to be over.
Someone came in through the broken windows, dressed in black from head to toe, armed with a rocket launcher, a few grenades, a lot of guns, and a katana sticking out from the back of his shoulder. Either his mind was playing tricks again, or that an angel of death had come to give him his final ride. It was all that came to his mind at first, before his visions had cleared and he began to recognize the man he had come to know like his own reflection. Fei Long was limping a little as he walked, and his once flawless face was bruised almost beyond recognition, but the burning in those eyes could never be mistaken, and this time they were burning for him. He thought if that would be the last thing he saw before he died, then he would die fulfilled.
“Bravo,” Phillip Toh said with a strange humor in his tone at the spectacle before him. “I don’t know what you’d hoped to accomplish, but I have to admit I didn’t think you had the balls for such a big entrance.”
“Drop the gun. You know you have no chance of walking out of here with your life if you kill him.” Fei Long demanded, holding his piece firmly with an unshakable grip. There had never been a day in his life when he was more certain of his aim than in that moment. It had only taken one look at the man he had come to save to know the damage Toh had caused. It wasn’t the bruises on that face, or the bloodstains that covered almost every inch of his shirt, it was the emptiness in those blue eyes that had never once shown defeat. He knew that expression by heart. He’d seen it everyday in the prison mirrors. Some things had been taken away from him - things that may never again be restored. This was what Alexei and Feodora had always feared - a relapse they may not be able to fix the second time around.
Fei Long bit his lip as he tried to keep his control in check. There wasn’t a time in his life when he’d hated himself more. How many times had he been given a chance to end his feud with Asami and he didn’t? How many times had Mikhail tried to make him walk away when everything was still fine and he’d refused? How could he have allowed it to come to this when he’d had so many chances to avoid it? Why did I leave you?
“My life?” There was a certain kind of madness in Toh’s eyes as he said those words, perhaps even satisfaction in the possibility of such an outcome. “What makes you think that I would let such a petty thing get in my way? The way I see it, it’s his life you have to worry about, not mine.” It was almost too easy for him to see just how precious his leverage was to Fei Long. He should have realized this from the very beginning. The most effective way to torture his little brother was through his heart. “Allow me to demonstrate if your brain hasn’t yet caught up with the situation at hand.”
The shot that followed rang sharp and clear in Fei Long’s mind like the bullet that went through his chest eight years ago - a shot so clean and precise, delivered by the hand that knew no hesitation. He could still recall the way it felt, from the moment the gun was fired, to the way the bullet had pierced through his flesh. Only that day it wasn’t his blood that was dripping on the carpet, it was Mikhail’s. Where the father’s bullet had missed by an inch, his son had made sure it hit with deadly precision. He remembered that feeling from years ago when his father was lying helplessly in his arms - how the sky seemed to have fallen right before his eyes, and its weight was crushing down upon him all at once. The mere thought of losing Mikhail had brought it all back, only this time everything was multiplied ten fold - the anger, the fear, the numbness that spread quickly through all his limbs and, most of all, his failure.
He should have taken that window to shoot his enemy, but all he could do was stand there staring at the two of them from across the room, breathless and shaken out of his mind. Mikhail was down on his knees, held up only by the grip of the other man on his collar, still with a gun pressed to his head. It was only when he began to move that Fei Long found himself breathing again. The bullet had gone through the back of his right shoulder and out just below his collarbone - a clean wound, given that the bleeding is tended to in time.
“I have nine more bullets to demonstrate my conviction,” Toh said, almost with a melodic hum in the back of his throat, “Every minute that you hesitate to surrender, he bleeds closer to his death. Why don’t you ask yourself, little brother, how many exactly can you stand?”
He didn’t have a problem surrendering himself to Toh all over again. It would be the kind of hell that was much less torturous than what was being presented to him now. Surrendering was the best choice given the circumstances and he had been prepared to do exactly that the moment he decided to suit up for the attack. Still, deep down he knew just as Toh did, that none of it would ever stop. Mikhail would never stop trying to save him, and Toh would never stop utilizing that fact to his advantage. The only person who could put an end to all this was him, and the solution was right there in his hand.
“It pisses me off that you think you know exactly what I can or can’t stand,” Fei Long said as he lowered his gun, playing with the piece absentmindedly as he spoke, “and yet you forget that I, too, know exactly what you are and what aren’t willing to sacrifice.” He raised the gun again, this time aiming at the real enemy that had been the source of every tragic event in his life for nearly three decades. “Let him go,” he pressed the barrel firmly against his temple, “or I will rid you of the one thing you’re willing to sacrifice your life for.” It was the only thing Toh had ever wanted - retribution by his own hands. Toh would never allow him to take his own life - he was willing to gamble with that assumption. It didn’t matter if he was right. Either way, if he dies, all this would come to an end.
“What makes you think I’d believe that you could or would actually pull the trigger?” Toh responded amusingly. He had to admit he was a little surprised.
“That’s my life you’re holding in your hand.” Fei Long said, gripping the gun tighter in his hand. Above all, Toh should know the price of his bargaining chip; it was the only reason why Mikhail had been brought into this in the first place. “If he goes, I go too. Only this way I get to piss the fuck out of you. Can’t think of a better reason to die at the moment, if you ask me.”
There was a hint of irritation on Toh’s face as his victorious smirk slowly faded. Had those words been backed by anything but those eyes that dared him with unshakable conviction, he would have found such a threat rather fruitless. Fei Long’s emotions may have been his most vulnerable weakness, but for the same reason, it was the source of his strength. There wasn’t a trace of hesitation to be found in those words or the finger that rested on the trigger. No amount of torture had ever driven the man so close to his limits like the shot he had just fired. That’s my life you’re holding in your hand. Looking at the man then, he knew it wasn’t a lie. For Mikhail Arbatov, Fei Long would pull the trigger.
“If you’re so eager to die,” Toh said, this time without the usual smirk on his face, “then let’s finish it. You and me, right here, right now. Drop your guns, I’ll drop him.”
It may have sounded like a lost cause, knowing full well the strength and skill of his opponent. Even without his existing injuries, Fei Long knew he had little chance of winning in a hand-to-hand combat with Phillip Toh. Still, a chance was a chance, and he could hardly deny the opportunity to beat the crap out of this prick. Even if I have to die trying, then so be it.
He took off the vest and tossed it on the floor, kicking it to the side where he carefully laid down the katana. The rest of what he’d packed went to the same pile soon after, except for the gun he was holding. “Your turn,” he said to Toh, his eyes fixated on the man who was still kneeling silently on the floor that had already been well covered with his blood.
How far will you go for love? Someone once asked him the question he didn’t know how to answer.
Just stay with me a little longer. I’ll show you just how far.
***
A/N: Hate it, like it? Please do leave a comment so I know people are still reading this. ^_^ Anonymous readers, don't be shy, I don't bite. See you next chapter and hopefully muse would be kind enough to let me update sooner. *hugs all* Now I have to run to my girl's basketball match!