Anastasia had never had an easy life. Living with an abusive step father and an even worse mother, Anastasia had accepted the fact that her life would not be getting any better. But their sudden death has given Anastasia hope, hope that she would in...
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The front door of the house had five guards posted, while the back door had four. Fighting them would have been easy but it would attract attention, and that was the last thing I wanted right now.
Deciding that entering through the fire exit was my best option, and luckily there was only one guard present there. I waited for the time he turned towards the other side and snuck up behind him, I grabbed him by the neck and snapped it.
His limp body fell into my arms as I gently laid him on the ground, grabbing his walkie talkie and I attached it to myself, lowering the volume down to the absolute minimum, enough for me to be able to hear any news but not too loud that it alerted others.
Jumping up I caught the ladder of the fire escape and started to climb up. Opening the window latch I went inside the room, an empty bedroom, I had studied the floor plan of the house, which meant I was currently in the guest bedroom.
And two doors to the right would be Victor Andreev's office. Using a hairpin I slowly unlocked the door to the guest room, peeking out slightly from the little gap I could not see anyone out in the hallway, the door to his office was slightly ajar but the light was off, he wasn't inside.
I entered his room, walking towards the corner and waiting for him, hidden behind the shadows the night sky cast. Only a few moments later he entered the room, closing the door behind him.
"привет Виктор." I spoke, the man in question straightened his spine like lead, not daring to turn around. His left hand inched slowly towards his desk, "It's no use, the button is dismantled." That idiot really thought I wouldn't take care of the emergency security button when I'm here to kill him. (Hello Victor)
"Why are you here?" Victor asked, still not turning towards me, his thick Russian accent a twisted yet somewhat comforting reminder of home. "I think we both know why I'm here Victor. And I think you can make this easier on yourself."
"I could but, Повиноваться до смерти." I scoff, the pathetic motto of the Russian mafia, obey till death. This was not a motto, this was a threat, a warning. Petrov doesn't hate traitors, he hates people who for even a second can think for themselves.
Sighing I stepped out of the shadows, and he turned as well. "Very well." I take my gun out, aiming for his head, and he does the same. But switching suddenly I turn my aim towards the cctv camera in the top corner of the wall and shoot.
"I don't like prying eyes." I told him. Before I threw the gun to the ground. He looked at my movements carefully. "As much as I want to make this quick, I am in the mood today so how about we go hand to hand."
He smirked, before dropping his gun to the ground as well. Cocky. I liked them cocky, it made things easier. "Drop the Katana too." He demanded, and with narrow eyes I did exactly that.
The moment the sword touched the ground and I got back up, Victor charged towards me. I too wasted no time in ducking and evading his attacks and making the counter punch. He was skilled, of course he was, but so was I.
