Immigrant girl

Chapter 41. Alex.

The air was knocked out of my lungs with one powerful blow. I exhaled noisily. My legs trembled, but I stood my ground.

"Davis," I said almost serenely, as if I was prepared for this.

"The reason we are in this situation, Dovlatov, is because of Teresa and James Davis, found brutally murdered in their car 30 kilometers from London 17 years ago," the special agent took a step forward, emerging from the shadows into the light. "I have been working towards this moment all these years."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I still held the gun tightly in my hand. "I don't know these people."

"You don't, but your father certainly does," Davis took another step forward. "They were my parents, Dovlatov." I was more confused than ever. "They were quite well-known doctors in London," he paused. "Seventeen years ago, a private medical company made them a very tempting offer," another pause. "Participation in the research of innovative medical drugs. They, of course, agreed, to serve science, medicine, and the pay was substantial," he started pacing the deck just as he had paced around my billiard room the day before. "But after some time, they realized that this private company was not involved in what they had been told," I listened intently. "A new type of biological weapon, that's what the company was working on. Once my parents understood this, they naturally intended to inform the authorities. The next day, they were dead," Davis stopped in front of me. "I know what you're thinking! What does this have to do with your father and you?" he smirked. "One of the sponsors of this company was Boris Dovlatov," my legs trembled again. "He was the only one who escaped punishment for what was done."

"This is your revenge," I wasn't asking, I was stating a fact.

"Not just his," came Aguilar's voice, and I turned my gaze to him. "James and Teresa were close friends of mine."

"How did two respected London doctors become close friends with the head of a Mexican crime network?" the words poured out of me.

"It's simple. James Davis saved my life," a warm smile appeared on the old man's face. "He performed emergency surgery on my heart. Their deaths were a big blow to me," he looked at Davis. "But they had a son, who had no one left."

"And you decided to take him under your wing," I concluded.

"Yes," Aguilar stood from his chair and approached Davis. "I helped him move to the US, paid for his education at Stanford, and later at the FBI Academy. I accompanied him every step of the way. Of course, I didn't and could never replace his parents, but I did everything possible to repay James in some way," he placed his hand on Davis's shoulder.

"A pet FBI agent," I laughed. "Clever." I put the gun back in my belt, realizing it was useless. I would likely die today. "So what now?"

"Now you die, Alex," Davis said it as if it were an everyday occurrence. "Boris Dovlatov took away what was most precious to me, now it's my turn to repay him the same way. His beloved son, his hope, his support and protection. Boris won't survive this; your family will end up at the bottom where it belongs." My body turned to stone, my head felt like it was filled with lead. This was it. This was how it would end. Punished for my father's sins.