Chapter 1

The sounds of punches connecting to someone's body echo through the darkness. A man grunts in pain. Thud! A body drops on the floor.

"Someone is here! I need backup!" A man whispers rushed words in the radio receiver, panting in panic, his hand trembling.

The loud, violent sound of the door being kicked open fills the dark room. The radio makes noise and a voice shouts in Russian from the other end:

"Dabai, dabai! (Go, go!)

The man who requested backup stands terrified staring at the radio, his trembling hand gripping a pistol, which he tries to point to the person that kicked the door open, but it is pitch dark and he can't see anything. A pair of hands come behind him and in quick, calculated moves, one of them covers his mouth as the other swiftly slits his throat with a knife.

The killer allows the body to fall on the floor, laying on the puddle of blood. He is dressed in all black, a black mask covering his identity. He kneels beside the victim and snatches the radio from the lifeless hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he speaks in a muffled voice, from the mask, a thick Russian accent lacing his chilly words:

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

*****

The masked killer is fighting two other men in a narrow hall, in a place that looks like an abandoned warehouse. One of them tries to punch him from behind. In one swift motion the masked man blocks his jab, simultaneously delivering a front-kick, knocking the other man right on his jaw and out cold. He then turns to face the man who is attacking behind his back. They exchange punches, and the masked man blocks his aggressor's hands, grabs his head and violently smashes it against the concrete wall several times, leaving behind a trace of blood as he allows the body to drop to the floor.

The man in black silently opens the door the men were guarding.

"Back for more spit, you son of a bitch?" a woman's voice comes from inside the room as soon as she hears the door being pulled open.

Once he's fully opened the door, the man takes in the view in front of him. The woman with fiery red curls is tied to a chair with her hands behind her back. Her face is badly bruised, her lip split and bleeding. Her body also is covered in hideous black, blue and purple bruises, all on display due to her only wearing a flimsy beach kaftan.

"My God! Natasha!" the man rushes to her. "You ok?"

At the sound of his voice, Natasha raises her head, a hopeful, but confused look in her eyes. The man moves fast, untying her hands.

"Here, here. I got you baby!" he holds her in his arms, when her body goes limp.

"Iv-Ivan?! Ivan! You're alive!" she moans in pain and surprise at the same time.

"Not for long if we don't move." Ivan answers, letting go of Natasha once he realizes she can stand on her own.

"You asshole!" she punches his chest with all the strength she can muster. "He said you were dead…I thought you were dead." She rubs her bruised wrists.

"For fifteen years Ivan! Fifteen fucking years!" she screams to his face, but he ignores her drama.

"Kick my ass later 'sis. Right now I need you back, I need my partner pack. Ready for one last mission?"

"I'll kill you myself when we get out of here." She threatens. "Give me a gun!"

"You mean IF!" Ivan replies, checking the guns and munitions.

"I mean WHEN. Ivan Grozny (the Terrible Ivan) never failed a mission" Ivan sighs at her words, hands her the loaded pistol and focuses back on the mission at hand.

"Hostages, how many?" his voice is cold and doesn't give away any emotions.

"Eight. Ten if you count the babies." Natasha's voice trembles at the word 'babies'

******

Ivan and Natasha are crossing fire with a handful of unknown man who are shooting at them. They stand with their backs to each-other covering both sides of the narrow hall.

"Stay the hell inside the room!" Ivan shouts to someone on his right.

Magdalena, a platinum blonde woman, around her fifties is standing in the doorway. Further into the room are a bunch of other people, all looking equally terrified. Thomas, Magdalena's husband stands close to his brother Mike and his wife Maria. At the far corner of the room stands another blonde woman, holding two little kids in her arms.

"Antonio! You need to find Antonio, my son!" Magdalena screams at Ivan.

"Shut up lady! A little busy here!" he shouts right back at her.

In a dim lit room, somewhere in the warehouse, Antonio, a big, bald man, stands tied to a chair, his head hanging between his shoulders. A severely bleeding cut marks his left cheek. At the edge of the room Fernando, another bald man, lays collapsed on the floor, his head and eye heavily bandaged, showing marks of blood. Another man's lifeless body is lying at Antonio's feet.

"Tony?" Fernando moans in pain, merely conscious.

"Oh thank God you're alive! You're alive! Son of a bitch! I thought I lost you brother." Antonio tries to turn his head to see Fernando, relief washing over him.

"I'm ok…I can take a little beating." Fernando tries to laugh, but ends up coughing and spitting blood. "Philip?" He asks, once he is able to speak again.

"Kaput! Right in front of me. Asshole got what he deserved." Antonio's voice holds no emotion as he speaks about Philip, whose body lays at his feet.

"Aww man, he's our cousin too."

"Was! He sold us. Big fucking time!" Antonio spits his words in hatred as a loud noise is heard from the other side of the door. He jumps startled when the door is kicked open and ends up slamming on the wall.

"Up ladies! Chop chop!" Ivan's voice fills the room as he enters, dragging a lifeless body, which he abruptly drops when he sees Antonio for the first time.

He eyes the tied man up and down, frozen. Hesitating, Ivan ignores Antonio and heads straight to Fernando, untying and helping him up.

"Who the fuck are you?" Antonio spits out.

"Prince charming…" Ivan throws casually through gritted teeth.

With Fernando hanging on him half unconscious, Ivan walks past Antonio taking another glance at him, like he can't believe his eyes. He finally cuts the rope binding Antonio's hands.

"Let's go princess. Mama's been crying for you"

****

The wind howls wildly and the babies' cries fill the air. The hostages, now free, are hugging each other desperately. Ivan hands a map to Natasha, red crosses marking a path on it.

"They're waiting for you. Just keep walking. Go!" he keeps his words shorts, his breath elaborated.

"You're not coming to keep us safe?"

Ivan turns to Magdalena, eager to answer her stupid question, but Natasha cuts in.

"You're bleeding."

"'The hell do you care?! He's just a fucking soldier. Just keep moving like he said. He knows what he's doing." Antonio shouts, already starting to walk away in the path ahead, not waiting for the other.

"I'll catch up to you. I promise!" Ivan whispers to Natasha and she sighs.

"Your secret's safe with me." she says. "I love you"

Ivan simply nods. "Go!" he lets go of her and they all walk away.

Once they are out of sight, Ivan removes the mask covering his face, takes a deep breath of fresh air and allows himself to collapse on the ground, face down. A pool of blood starts forming around him and a faint whisper leaves his lips:

"I'm sorry…Cassandra…"