Chapter Twenty-One

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"Here? Where's here?" I asked, jumping out of the car. We were standing on an empty road, with forestry all around. There was nothing in sight. It all just seemed random. The car drove away, leaving just Sebastian and I. For some reason, Sebastian was looking down at a sewer hole.

"Here." he repeated, pointing to the ground. I moved next to him.

"Wait! Are you saying they run their business underground? That's....clever."

"Oh yeah.'' Sebastian muttered. He bent down and started heaving the large metal cover off the ground. "That's why the government and all those petty little CIA agents have never discovered the Bratva and where all the magic happens." He threw the cover aside and jumped down so quickly that I yelped.

"Come on, darling." Sebastian's voice drifted through the opening. I looked down nervously. The only thing I could make out against the darkness was his head covered in shadows. "It's only a few feet deeper than your height. I'll catch you."

My heart thudded against my rib cage, but I knew I couldn't let fear in the way. Scar's life depended on it. Without letting myself think, I crouched down and jumped. The air whistled around me for half a second, and then something hard connected with the sole of my feet. Pain instantly flowered up. In the darkness, I could hear Sebastian's low chuckle.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked lightly. There was a clattering noise and then a beam of artificial light flared to life. I could see clearly now. We were in a tunnel. Dirt and water filled the crevices of the old bricks. Spiderwebs decorated the low ceiling, which barely brushed against Sebastian's height. Somewhere in the shadows, mice squeaked and crickets chirped. The air smelled stale and held the scent of mold.

"Stay close." Sebastian ordered. I followed behind. We quickly moved through the tunnels. I was grateful for his ability to guide us through. Without him, Scar surely would have been dead. As we walked, Sebastian talked in a low voice.

"The Sevskaya Bratva is a massive organization. Every thug, criminal, prisoner, and police in Chicago knows their name. They don't just bring in anyone. The Bratva have an extensive course that many of their eligible members go through. If they fail, they die. If they pass, Bogdan rewards them for every mission with things they never even thought possible. Simple as that. It's one of the many things that make them so dangerous and so well-respected."

"These tunnels run underneath the entire grid of Chicago. I couldn't say how large this location is. It's right under the heart of the city, and every way underground is blocked except for the sewer holes. That is why no one has discovered them yet. Anyone who has even the simplest knowledge of the Bratva are eliminated. No secrets and no weakness can be revealed. It's why the Bratva is so hard to take down. Even if the government did, the Sevskaya Bratva runs worldwide. The heart of this organization isn't just in Chicago. It's everywhere. Bogdan has many reliable sources and leaders waiting to take his place."

I stumbled on a loose rock, but managed not to fall. Sebastian continued without looking back. The flashlight in his hand wobbled with his movements, dancing across the walls. The air smelled worse, now of something acid. The darkness was getting less and less as we continued.

"Who's Bogdan? I think I've heard that name before."

"Ah, Bogdan." Sebastian's voice was bitter. He spat the name like poison. "He's the biggest scoundrel on the face of this planet. He's the leader of the Bratva. The boss, the creator of this horrific organization, their god. People worship him, kiss the ground he walks on. Bogdan Khodkevich started in Russia. He began by killing his mother and brother, and then rose to bigger things, like kidnapping and the extortion of innocent women. A few years ago, he created a new synthetic drug called Dragon Breath, which I assume Scar has already mentioned. It broke out into the street, and people started getting addicted. He rose to power by that, and the Bratva has just been growing ever since. I made a promise to myself that I would kill that bitch if I ever saw him again."

"Wow." I breathed. This was so much worse than I had thought. "Sebastian, how do you know all this?"

This was one question he didn't answer. I waited, but the only noise was our heavy breathing. My legs started aching from all the walking, but Sebastian never slowed down the slightest. After a moment of silence, he finally muttered, "That is a story for another time."

We passed a room with wooden crates stacked on top of each other. They rose to the ceiling, although the dirt room was considerably small. Sebastian pointed briefly to one of the crates. "Gunpowder. No one had more or better weapons than the Sevskaya."

I gawked for a second. How in the world could we get Scar back? The lair was massive. The tunnels seemed to go on forever, and so hungry to swallow up lost wanderers. My hope for Scar dimmed with each closed door we passed, to the point of where I was bracing myself to see his dead body.

If we ever found him, that is.

Sebastian suddenly turned around and pressed me against the wall with his thick arm. I flattened myself next to him, barely breathing. He glanced around the corner and then snapped back. A moment later, we heard faint voices floating up the hall. Blood pounded in my head. Sebastian glittering eyes warned me to stay quiet. The voices got louder and louder, sounding rough and male. They spoke in thick Russian with accents. Sebastian waited until the voices had completely dissipated before hurrying off again. I let out a heavy breath of relief and followed. He led us to a hallway.

The air smelled like metal, but it looked better than the tunnels. Sleek silver doors were in rows against a white wall. The floor was marble, with an elaborate pig mask drawn onto the white tiles every few feet. There was a complicated looking key pad next to every door with blinking lights.

Sebastian pushed me in front of him. He was sweating profusely, and wiped his forehead with a silk handkerchief. I waited to hear what he had to say.

"This level is the prisoner-hold room. I'll spare you the torture and began looking from the front, because that's where most of the prisoners are locked up. You start from the back. They would want to put Scar somewhere isolated from anyone. Look into every room for him. He has to be in one of these. But take note, Genevieve, there are hundreds on this floor alone. I will help, but it might be a while before any sign of Scar can be found. Be patient, darling."

"But how?" I wrung my hands in frustration. "There are stupid security systems on the door. I can't open it without knowing the combinations on the keypads. What if some kind of alarm goes off? We can't risk that, Seba-"

"Right." he cut me off. "Give me one minute, I'll be right back." 

I watched Sebastian quickly slip into the shadows. Sweat poured down my back even though the air was cold. The only thing I could do was hope that Scar was still alive. A moment later, there was a small groan of everything powering down. The lights above clicked off, leaving me in darkness. The blinking lights on the keypads blinked no more. Sebastian came back.

"I apologize for the lack of lighting. I shut down the power on this floor, including the security cameras and activated keypads. They will figure it out in 10 minutes. Which means we have about 10 minutes to find Scar." he explained.

"But how? If you deactivated the locks, won't the prisoners get out?"

"No.'' he answered. "The Bratva take more caution than that. I doubt anyone can leave this place without getting caught. The prisoners are locked up. They have these restricted chains on any- look, it is very hard to explain." Sebastian sighed.

"Okay." I nodded. As I turned to start my frantic search, Sebastian's deep voice stopped me again.

"And Genevieve....don't have any expectations. I cannot promise he will be alive if you find him."

The words were heavy in the air with the inkling reality. I shook my head firmly although Sebastian couldn't see in the shadows. I refused to believe that. Although somewhere deep in my mind I knew that his words might have been true, I still had hope because without it, I was nothing.

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