Gabriel's Regret: Book 1 (The Medlov Men Series 2) (10 page)

As the rest of the men left the room, Anatoly tapped Gabriel on the back. “Stay for a minute, eh?”

Gabriel closed the door behind them and went to the bar for a second drink. “What is it?”

“This idea you have of staying behind.”  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to find a text from another buyer.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.  Plus, I had some time on the jet to possibly get us a replacement.  This is them now.”  He texted quickly and waited for an answer from Gabriel.

Gabriel knew that Anatoly was concerned about him, even if he tried very hard to pretend not to care.  “Dmitry has never been that angry at me, not even when he found out I was a fucking narc.” Pouring a bourbon, he raised a glass. “Want one?”

“No,” Anatoly said, putting away his phone.  He sighed. “Papa is like that about his money.  It was your first time.
It was your last time.
  Get over it and stop being so fucking sensitive.  We all have to learn in this business and those lessons don’t come easy or cheap.”  He took a seat on the sofa against the wall and relaxed in its cushions.

Gabriel admitted he was a perfectionist, but that wasn’t what this was about.  “You have stars under your shirt, right?  Permanent fucking stars that no man can take away and every man in our line of work recognize.”

Anatoly rolled his eyes.
Not this again
.  “Yes, but…”

Gabriel turned from the bar and frowned at Anatoly with a drink in hand.  “But what?  But I’m not good enough? I don’t want to just blend in with yuppies and business moguls. I want the same fucking respect that you get from the men that were just in this room, and the only way that I’m going to do that is to prove myself to Uncle Dmitry.”

“You’ve proven yourself,” Anatoly said flatly. “And you have respect from each of those men.”

“No, I haven’t proven myself. Not really. I’ve done what I was told to do. That’s all. But I haven’t really been allowed to step up and you know it.  And those men only respect my name.  I’ve never done anything really worthy of being respected as a captain.” 

Anatoly stuck out his lips and blew out a breath, pushing the long strand of blonde hair out of his face.  “Maybe you’re right, but this isn’t the way to prove yourself.  There are other ways.”

“The time is now,” Gabriel said, voice strained with determination.  “I’m not going back empty handed with you saving my ass with some new deal that I’m basically an account rep on.”

Silence filled the room as the men quietly thought about their options.  Anatoly was trying to figure out a way to change his cousin’s mind, and Gabriel was trying to figure out a way to convince him not to try to talk him out of it. 

“You have to understand your worth,” Anatoly said frankly.  “I don’t have your college smarts or your classical training or your gentlemen like qualities. I’m a fucking brute, and I don’t try to be anything other than that, because that is what I am.  You are who you are.” 
Why was that so hard for Gabriel to comprehend?  Wasn’t he the educated one?

“In my heart, there is something else there,” Gabriel confessed.  He put his hand to his chest.  “There is something lurking, Anatoly.  And I’m no fucking gentleman.  More and more lately, I’ve felt the desire to tear out of my own skin.  I’m changing.” 

“The question is
changing
into what?” Anatoly asked. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gabriel snapped.

Anatoly hated to say it, but who else would. “You’re my cousin.” He paused. “No, you’re more than that. You’re my brother.”  Anatoly stood up and walked over to him.  Looking up into his eyes, he lowered his voice to make sure that none of the other men heard him.  “But you don’t know who you are and that’s a dangerous place to be as a man.”  He thumped Gabriel in the chest.  “That’s a damn dangerous place to be as a Vor.” 

Gabriel glared into his cousin’s eyes watching every single small gesture as he asked him the most important question that he’d ever asked in his life.  “Do you believe in me?”

Anatoly was taken aback.  “Yeah.”  He frowned not realizing that it even mattered to Gabriel.

Gabriel nodded and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he croaked out the words.  “Then trust me. I need to do this.” 

Anatoly nodded.  “Okay, brat.”  Tapping his shoulder, he walked off. “Okay.”

Chapter Six

A Gift Is Worth A Thousand Words…

Donetsk, Ukraine

A peculiar white rain poured down in sheets of watery fury as a convoy of battered UN aid trucks move through the muddy, broken streets of central Donetsk toward their destination.  Over the course of their trip, the Medlov guards, disguised as relief workers, had already been stopped at three checkpoints and had to step out several times to show the contents in the back of their trucks – a hodgepodge of food, beverages, clothes, blankets, cleaning products, bandages, water, sleeping bags, and tents that protected the core of shipment, which was military-grade munitions.  

Somewhere toward the middle of the convoy, Anatoly and Gabriel sat in the back of an unmarked truck holding on for dear life as they were jolted up and down by potholes, loose concrete and craters in the road left from tanks and mortars.

Despite all of the chaos of the broken roads and men talking around them, Gabriel was deathly quiet as they rode, something abnormal for the normally chatty man.  His face was dark with heavy thought. Contemplating what the next days or weeks ahead held in store, kept him on a ragged edge. 

With his wool skull cap pulled down over his dark black curls and his face sporting an intentional five o’clock shadow, he kept his eyes on the back of the truck and his index finger near the trigger of his gun, just in case one of the local Ukrainian sentries got too nosy about the cargo. 

A little more at ease than his anxious counterpart, Anatoly sat across from Gabriel, looking like anything but the part of a billionaire with his long blonde beard draping from his face and long, wheat blonde hair pulled back up in a man bun.  For no reason given, he had been roughing it for months and as a result was able to appear to be one of the locals, especially with his heavy Russian accent, overall rugged appearance and unmistakable tattoos. 

However, Gabriel wasn’t so lucky in the deceptive appearance department.  Where his mountainous size didn’t give him away because of the sheer attention he captured, his all American good looks did.  Pearly white teeth danced off a wide set mouth, good skin tanned from too many days near the beach drew curious eyes, no scars and no broken nose drew envy, and undeniable arrogance and swagger was very hard to veil with shabby clothing.  

As a result of his irrefutable good breeding, the plan was for Gabriel to keep his handsome head down and keep his clothes simple.  The $10,000 suits and $10,000 loafers would have to be forgone for the time being.  Cargo pants, a black V-neck shirt and boots took their place.  He replaced his Rolex watch for something more tactical but still terribly expensive and refrained from unnecessary eye contact.  Still, as much as they tried to downplay his look, the seductive devil still stood out.  His frame was too massive to ignore, too tall to blend and too perfect to assert that it came from anything other than money. 

“Now do you see why I think this is a bad idea?” Anatoly asked loudly as he gripped the side of the steel bench he sat upon.  “It’s a fucking mad house here!”  It was a fine line to walk in all of this.  He was still brooding from the prospect of losing so much money to his father, but he also did not want that to be a reason why Gabriel would risk his life.

Holding on to his bench as well, Gabriel nodded at Anatoly with a painted on smile. “That it is,” he acknowledged with an iron resolve.  “But I’m committed to this, no matter what.” He refused to show his doubt, knowing that in that weakness, he would never allow himself the opportunity to grow.

Committed
.  Such a powerful word.  So relevant for the moment.

Anatoly gritted his teeth in utter frustration of Gabriel’s theatrics.  “I’m done trying to talk you out of it.  It’s exhausting, and nothing gets through that thick skull of yours anyway.”

Gabriel quickly tried to make light of the situation.  “The rain is a good sign at least,” he said as he reached up and tapped the roof of the truck.  “Makes the sentries not want to stop and check the back of the trucks like they normally would.  It’s too messy out here.”

At that moment, they hit a larger than normal bump in the road that shook them all to their core.  The driver cursed in Russian as he wrestled with the gear shift. “Sukin syn!”   It was like driving on top of land mines.  The transmission of the old vehicle whined as it struggled to pull out of the massive hole. 

Once they were free from their hold and on their way, Anatoly sucked in a breath and squinted. It was obvious in his expression that he grew more and more tired of this trip by the minute. “I hate to burst your
overly,
optimistic bubble, but this is the Ukraine. Nothing about this place is easy, not even the climate.  The sentries work regardless of rain or sunshine.  Plus, have you seen this rain you speak of?  It’s not normal, eh. Fucking curious is what it is.” 

Gabriel frowned in ignorance. 
The rain?
  “What do you mean?” he asked. 

Abruptly, the trucks stopped, and Marat cued up on his earpiece, halting Anatoly and Gabriel’s conversation.  “We have arrived at the drop off, boss,” Marat said, looking out of the window for any signs of danger as they pulled up to the back dock of an old, gated hotel. Scanning the area, he jumped out, gun in hand.  “I’ll let you know when to get out once the coast is clear.” 

The trucks reversed and backed up with the beeping sound guiding their way, shifting the men in the back as the direction changed. 

Anatoly touched his earpiece, feeling a stir in his gut that he never ignored.  Danger was near.  “We’re blind sitting ducks in here.  We get out now before someone rams an RPG up my ass.”  Winking at Gabriel, he flung the strap of his AK-47 over his broad shoulder and chambered a round.  “Just in case.”

“Damn right,” Gabriel nodded, doing the same.  “Alright men, let’s do this.”

The distinct sound of the rifle cocking – metal against metal - echoed through the back of the truck as the other men prepared.  

Following the other men as they filed out to take their posts, Anatoly and Gabriel exited into the rain, hit with large pearls of water and howling wind.  The lookouts strategically placed around the perimeter of the building gave the okay once the sentries were no longer in view of their binoculars, and the team quickly began to unload at the dock’s bay. 

Finally, able to see for himself, Gabriel looked up at the dark clouded sky in wonderment.  Bombing in the distance veiled itself as lightening, creating a vibrating rumble just under the ground.  He stuck out his hand and captured the rain as it fell.  “What is it?” he asked, like a child seeing snow for the first time. 

Anatoly looked up at the sky and wiped a hand over his beard.  “White phosphorous rain.” Checking his surroundings, he walked toward the bay. “This is not a good sign.  It only happens with incendiary ammunitions are used.  It’s, of course, banned by the UN but some countries still use it,” he said, leaving out the implication of Russia.  “I’ve seen it in Africa…and the aftermath.  It will make the people very sick for a very long time.”

“That’s fucked up.  Does it get into the drinking water?” Gabriel asked repulsed as he quickly spit the rainwater out of his mouth. 

A female voice answered as her feet landed in the puddled of rain behind him when she jumped down from the bay.  “The white rain…it gets into everything.  Makes a mess for everyone.  But the bastards responsible for it could care less; they deny it.  They deny everything.” Her thick Ukrainian accent was made more prominent by the sultry raspy melody of her voice. 

Anatoly froze when he saw the woman behind the voice, but his face was expressionless as normal.  He was sizing her up, deciding in a millisecond if she would be a problem, if she would be what he had heard through the grapevine to be a liability. 

What is he looking at?
  Gabriel thought to himself as he turned and saw a woman, almost six feet tall with an extremely sinewy, athletic build, standing behind him.
My God
, he thought to himself.  Hesitation froze his body still.   Rainwater poured down his face and damped the ends of his curly hair as she stood in front of him silently assessing the stranger, but in a much different way from his cousin.  Her skin was the color of rich milk chocolate, her face was an ethereal glow of natural beauty – no makeup, no hiding flaws and putting on airs, just high cheekbones, a wide lush mouth carved into a heart and larger than life eyebrows arched to show the pure fire that burned through her big galactic brown eyes. 

Valeriya sucked in a breath, but also said nothing. 

Anatoly looked in between them and a frown finally managed to crease his stoic face. 

As Valeriya motioned for the men to move faster, Gabriel noticed more than her angelic face – a new one for him. A thin black t-shirt clung to her perky full breasts and rock hard abdomen, allowing just a slight touch of brown skin to show between her shirt and her belt line. The rain only made her shape more pronounced, making it harder for Gabriel not to stare.  Her legs went on forever in dark tight denim jeans, anchored with steel toe work boots.  Shapely, toned, muscular arms - probably from working instead of a steady diet of gym time- caught his attention because she looked anything but fragile, along with it, chipped, brittle nails, which meant she didn’t give a damn about a spa day.  No wedding ring. 
Thank God. 
She was rugged in the truest sense of the word.  No doctor had cut her, no designer dressed her, no man kept her.  It was evident as she stood before him as strong as a stallion in the Western wild. 

And what did he want to do?  Break her.  He wanted to break her despite the most important thing in his life unfolding at that very moment, all he could do was inhale a deep breath and take in the maddening pheromones that she released into the dingy, dank air. 

Immediately, his heart constricted.  He was expecting a…white person? A man?   He shook his head, baffled at his own biases. Whatever he was expecting, it was not her.

“You must be Valeriya,” Anatoly said, offering his hand to the woman as he pushed his firearm out of the way.  Despite her startling beauty, her charms were lost on him. As he had said a million times before, he just wanted to make the drop and get out of here.  If he had to do so with a Victoria Secret model, so be it. 

“You must be Anatoly Medlov,” Valeriya finally spoke, shaking hand.  Her gaze traveled reluctantly to Gabriel – only because she could feel him glaring at her.  And she could feel something else that she would not acknowledge.  “And you?” Her brow rose.  He wasn’t the type of man one expected to see in Donetsk, even with the paramilitary gear on. He looked like CIA or some other alphabet given to American spies.  

“Gabriel Medlov,” Gabriel answered, offering his hand. 

Valeriya looked at his hand for a moment, debating whether or not to touch him. 

Gabriel’s eye twitched. “Who are you?  Sorry.  I was expecting Andrei.”  He looked down at her and tried to hide the curiosity lurking behind his eyes. 

Anatoly frowned again.  Everyone knew that their contact was dead.  They had also been told that they were meeting with a woman.   

But Valeriya had already caught wind of Gabriel’s attraction in their brief encounter.

And it repulsed her.

“Andrei is dead. I’m his sister,” she said flatly.  Her words curled around her lips and her exotic accent.  Quickly turning away from him, she slipped her hand out of his and looked at her men.  “We need to move quickly, brothers!  We have a short window.  Hurry!”  She motioned toward the bay opening.  “Get everything inside.  Tell the others to help too.” She scanned the provisions that they had brought with them in sheer appreciation.  They needed all of it, including the weapons. 

As Valeriya walked off, Anatoly looked over at Gabriel and rolled his eyes.  He was married but not blind.  It was obvious what was going on here and it had nothing to do with the shipment.  “How long will you be here?” he asked his cousin.  But what he really wanted to ask was how long will it take for you to screw her?

Gabriel looked around at the dilapidated buildings riddled with bullets and pursed his lips.  This place really was a hell hole. “As long as it takes.”

“Excuse me?  Takes for what?” Valeriya interrupted.  She stalked back toward him and looked between Gabriel and Anatoly.

Gabriel shrugged.  His eyes burned through her.  “I’m staying for a few days to make sure that you have everything that you need.”

Her eyes narrowed on him as she tilted her head. “Why now?”

“Recent events,” Anatoly said, stepping in.  “Once he makes sure that you’re all ready to go, he’s to report back to the States.”  He said it more for Gabriel than Valeriya.  “It’s a favor to Allan Roman.”

“While I truly appreciate everything that you have done, I must make this clear.  We don’t need a babysitter,” Valeriya said, sticking her chest out a little. 

“No, of course not,” Anatoly answered, stepping in front of his cousin.  His voice was razor sharp.  “But we realize that you suffered losses because of our original agreement.  And we want to make sure that repay those losses.  It’s business.  We’re not here for anything more than that.” He paused.  “If it’s a problem, we can go.”

Valeriya put her hand on her hip and looked up at Gabriel.  “Are you going to give me my brother back as well then?” Her eyes stayed on Gabriel, knowing that he was the reason for her brother’s death.