Page 74 of The Bratva's Sextuplets
The next twenty minutes unfold exactly like urban warfare conducted by professionals who understand building assault tactics. The Federoffs advance through our home with overwhelming firepower and tactical coordination, destroying furniture and artwork while my men execute strategic retreats through carefully prepared kill zones. By the time gunfire reaches the main staircase, we’ve lost four men while they’ve lost at least a dozen.
“There’s heavy movement on the east stairwell with military-grade weapons.” Viktor’s voice carries increasing urgency as the sound of combat grows closer to our position. “They’re pushing hard toward the second floor with professional coordination.”
“Hold your defensive positions as long as you can without sacrificing all our people.” I adjust my own position to maintain clear sight lines on both staircase approaches while ensuring Zita remains protected behind substantial cover. “Don’t allow them to establish any secure position up here.”
The battle intensifies as the Federoffs realize they’re facing more organized resistance than their intelligence suggested. Their numerical advantage becomes less significant in the confined spaces of our stairwells, where my men’s intimate knowledge of the house layout and multiple practice drills we’ve conducted in the past few months helps neutralize some of their superior firepower.
Behind me, I hear Zita’s breathing, which is quick but controlled despite her obvious fear and physical limitations. Her pregnancy makes her slow and vulnerable, but her determination to protect our unborn children gives her strength that reminds me why I fell in love with her courage.
Then I see him through the smoke and chaos of battle. Avgar Federoff is advancing up the main staircase with three heavily armed soldiers flanking him in a professional formation. He’s older than his surveillance photographs suggested, with facial scars that speak to a lifetime of violence, but his eyes burn with fanatic intensity that reveals this assault is deeply personal.
“Tigran Belsky?” His voice carries over the gunfire as he reaches the second floor landing with his remaining escort. “I’m going to kill your pregnant wife so you can get the full Belsky experience of watching a beloved spouse die, just like your father. Then I’ll execute you after you’ve suffered for a while.”
The threat against Zita, combined with his reference to my mother’s murder, transforms my tactical calculations into something far more primal and infinitely more dangerous. This confrontation has moved beyond business rivalry into personal vengeance that demands blood payment.
“You want her?” I call back. “Come and try to take her from me!”
Avgar advances through the smoke-filled hallway with his remaining soldiers, moving with the confidence of someone who’s survived dozens of similar battles and believes his superior numbers guarantee victory. The man clearly doesn’t understand that threatening my family has transformed this into a fight for everything that gives my life meaning.
“Stay low behind that cover and don’t move unless I specifically tell you to.” I speak quietly enough that only Zita can hear me over the gunfire. “If something happens to me, there’s a backup radio in the nightstand that will connect you directly to Viktor.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you because we have too much to live for.” Her voice remains steady despite the circumstancesand her physical vulnerability. “We’re going to end this threat and prepare for our children’s birth without this threat hanging over us.”
The fierce determination in her voice, even while six months pregnant and facing overwhelming military force, reminds me exactly why this man and his organization have to be eliminated today. Even in the most dangerous situation of her life, she refuses to surrender to fear or despair, and I refuse to fail her.
“Then let’s finish this permanently and make sure our children are born into a world without the Federoff threat.” I prepare to engage the man who’s terrorized my family for months. “Remember everything I taught you about breathing control and sight alignment if you’re forced to use that weapon.”
The final confrontation with Avgar Federoff is about to begin, and despite the overwhelming odds stacked against us, I know we’re going to survive this assault. We have too much love to protect and too bright a future to build to let this madman destroy everything we’ve worked to create.
All that remains is ensuring Avgar doesn’t walk out of this house alive, so our children can grow up free from the violence that has haunted both their parents’ lives.
27
Zita
The gunfire from downstairs has been growing closer for the past twenty minutes, with each burst of automatic weapons telling me Viktor and our remaining men are being forced back through the house toward our position. Crouched behind the heavy oak dresser that Tigran positioned for maximum protection, I clutch the pistol he gave me while trying to control my breathing and the panic threatening to overwhelm me.
Six months pregnant with sextuplets, wearing a bulletproof vest that’s too big and holding a weapon I haven’t fired in months, isn’t how I imagined I’d be defending my family. The tank shell that destroyed our panic room entrance forced me into this position, and now I’m trapped in the middle of a war zone while carrying six children who deserve to be born into peace.
“They’re pushing hard up both stairwells.” Viktor’s voice crackles through Tigran’s radio from somewhere below us. “Ican hold the east approach, but the west side is compromised. Multiple hostiles advancing toward the second floor.”
Tigran keys his radio while maintaining his position near the bedroom doorway. “Fall back to the central hallway if you have to. Don’t let them surround you down there.”
“Copy that. Be advised, Avgar is with the main assault group. He’s coming for you personally.”
The confirmation that our primary enemy is advancing toward our position chills me. This isn’t just about eliminating the Belsky organization. Avgar Federoff wants to finish this personally, to look Tigran in the eyes while he destroys everything.
I press myself lower behind the dresser, my expanded belly making even simple movements awkward and slow. The weight of six babies shifts inside me as I try to find a position that provides cover while letting me see what’s happening around me. My hands shake as I grip the pistol, muscle memory from years-old training fighting against months of inactivity and the reality that I’m about to use this weapon to kill people.
“Stay exactly where you are and don’t move unless I specifically tell you to.” Tigran’s voice is calm but carries authority that doesn’t allow for argument. “If someone gets past me, you know what to do.”
“I remember the basics.” My voice sounds steadier than I feel. “Breathe, sight alignment, and squeeze, don’t pull.”
“That’s right. You don’t have to be perfect, just effective at close range.”
The sound of boots on the main staircase tells us the assault has reached the second floor. Through the bedroom doorway, I see muzzle flashes lighting up the hallway as Viktor engages multiple targets from his defensive position near the opposite stairwell.
“Contact east side!” Viktor’s voice carries over the gunfire. “Three hostiles down but more are coming up behind them!”
