Nadia’s and Nicholas’s deaths hit me hard.
It felt like the massacre all over again. Their bodies in all that blood was a cruel reminder of my parents, my cousin, and everyone who left me forever.
I’m not even close to dealing with that, but just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they dramatically have.
After Viktor picked us up from the cottage, it took us almost a day to arrive at the base since they couldn’t deploy a helicopter.
That’s when we were hit by one piece of devastating news after the other.
Rulan and his entire unit were wiped out.
Viktor lost two men, and a few others were wounded.
The general atmosphere at the base is so tense and thick, it could be cut with a knife.
A depressive mood worse than mine hardens the men’s expressions and ages them beyond their years.
When I was out there during the mission, all I thought about was eliminating targets. I chose not to think about the scattered remains of our men in the snow.
Or the blood.
Or the pain that would cause.
Now, however, all the emotions hit me in one go. It’s excruciating and surreal to think we lost people I used to eat, train, and play football with.
Most were young, ambitious, and had their entire future ahead of them.
Rulan…the man with furious loyalty and a headstrong personality, is gone. For good.
I cast a glance at Kirill, who’s striding to where the wounded are with Viktor. He doesn’t stop to change his clothes or to answer to the higher-ups who must be waiting for a report on the mission. He chose his men.
His expression remains neutral, collected, and absolutely undisturbed as he pats one soldier on the shoulder and nods at another.
Either he’s unfeeling or a man of steel who’s not familiar with the concept of emotions. It’s why he could be so detached from Nadia’s and Nicholas’s deaths.
It’s also why he could keep a cool head while receiving the news of his men’s deaths.
It’s precisely why he’s the captain. No one else but him would be able to pull what remains of the unit together.
“Sasha!”
I whirl around just in time to be engulfed in a bro hug. I wrap my arm around Maksim’s back and wince when he squeezes my bad shoulder.
He steps back. “What is it? You okay?”
“Just a little gunshot wound.” I roll my arm. “I’m good as new, though.”
“Jesus, man. I thought we’d lost you and the captain.”
We both turn to where I think he disappeared to around the corner. My breath catches when I’m caught in his suffocating attention.
Kirill stands there for a beat, eyes cold, hooded, and full of contempt. The expression disappears as soon as it appeared, and then he rounds the corner.
My heart, however, doesn’t slow or calm down. If I said it was only because of the look just now, that would be a lie.
I’ve been this fidgety and out of sorts ever since he let me hug him in the cottage yesterday. He didn’t physically comfort me, but his presence was enough to create a sense of safety.
It’s how I managed to pull myself together and abandon the suicidal thought of throwing myself into a dangerous situation.
He didn’t need to say anything or to even touch me. Just the feel of his hard muscles and steady heartbeat were enough to silence the demons inside me. I was relying on myself for years and that entailed burying my emotions and struggling to survive. I got so used to that feeling until that small moment when he let me hug him. Having someone there for a change was dangerously addictive.
“Earth to Sasha.” Maksim snaps his fingers in front of my face, and I blink.
“Yeah?”
“What made you zone out like that?” He steps closer and makes a tour around me. “Did you hit your head?”
I playfully smack him on the side of his arm. “Maybe you did.”
“Nah. I’m as good as the devil.” He smiles, but there isn’t that usual carefree energy behind it.
If someone like Maksim is this affected, then there’s no hope for the rest of us.
“I’m sorry about Rulan and the others,” I whisper low, as if I’m scared he’ll hear me.
“Why would you be? You didn’t kill them.”
“No, but I know how close you guys were… I got so used to him and I didn’t even know him for long.”
“He was just a clown.” His shoulders droop. “To think we were singing so casually the night before his death, having no fucking clue what was waiting for us.”
“Maks…”
“He went with honor.” He nods as if to himself. “He saved a kid by covering him with his body because he was a responsible fucker.”
I squeeze his shoulder and he inhales shakily. I wish I could tell him it’s okay to cry or scream or do whatever necessary to express his grief, but these men are backward and would see it as a weakness.
“Anyway.” He raises an imaginary glass. “I promise to live all the years he couldn’t, singing for both of us.”
I clink my imaginary glass against his. “I’ll join.”
“That’s my man!”
“Where’s Yuri?” I ask, casting a glance at my surroundings.
“He got his hand fucked up.” Maksim wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads me down the hall.
Soon after, we arrive at a room where a few soldiers are lying on beds, some with bandages, others with casts. It’s a gruesome view of the aftermath of violence.
Near the window, I spot Yuri’s frame, facing away from us, his bandaged hand hanging limply at his side.
We slowly approach him, but the moment we’re within reach, Maksim all but slaps him on the nape. “Yo, fucker, look who’s back!”
Yuri turns around with every intention of smacking his friend into oblivion, but he stops upon seeing me.
“Sasha!”
I’m the one who gives him a bro hug this time and resist the urge to linger for a bit too long. I’m just so thankful they’re both alive and well. I’m already fragile, and if anything had happened to them, too, I wouldn’t know how to survive it. Rulan and his men’s deaths are affecting me enough as it is.
While Maksim is the heart of the party, Yuri is the soul. His face is classically handsome. Dark blonde hair, a square jaw, and a set of familiar, welcoming eyes. It always feels as if we met in a previous life.
“He hurt his shoulder.” Maksim points a thumb at me, then juts his chin in Yuri’s direction. “You injured your hand, but I’m as good as new.”
Yuri slams his whole palm into Maksim’s face and pushes him away. Then he pulls out a chair for me before he sits on the bed. “Let’s talk like grown-ups without this spoilsport between us.”
“You damn traitor! Are you exchanging me this easily?” Maksim headlocks him and hits him teasingly.
A faint smile paints my lips and grows the more I watch them. They’re a better distraction than the chaos in my head.
Yuri swats Maksim away as if he’s nothing more than a fly and focuses on me. “What happened with you and Captain? How come you went missing for days?”
“When I got shot, Ki…I mean, Captain took me to a small village where we remained in hiding until I got better. We would’ve come sooner, but there was a storm.”
“No wonder we couldn’t get a signal.” Maksim places both his hands on the mattress and leans against them. “Viktor was going berserk trying to locate the boss. I’m glad you’re back, but Captain won’t have it easy.”
I lean closer in my chair. “What do you mean?”
“He’s with the higher-ups now, who will, without a doubt, put the blame on him for the mission’s failure, when it’s clear that it was plotted all along. It doesn’t matter what he might have done, he was set up for failure from the get-go. Those stupid fuckers planned all this.”
“Shut it.” Yuri kicks his friend in the shin, and the latter howls.
“What the fuck was that for? I’m telling the truth here. Sasha deserves to know why he took that bullet.”
I stare between them, grabbing for a sliver of information. “What’s going on?”
“Remember the fat man who came on the day of the mission?” Maksim asks.
“Captain’s father?”
“That’s the one. He’s always wanted Boss back in New York and has been trying to get him to discharge from the military for years. Since he failed and most of us chose to stay with the boss, what do you think his next course of action would be?”
“Try to force him.”
He snaps his fingers. “Exactly.”
“We don’t know for sure.” Yuri lowers his voice. “But it’s true that the old boss met the captain’s commandants prior to leaving.”
“In our line of work, we don’t believe in coincidences,” Maksim supplies.
“Does…could the captain share the same suspicions?” I ask.
“I’m sure he does.” Yuri’s brows draw together. “If we thought of this after the mission, then he must’ve figured it out during. It’s probably why he was hesitant about sending the units to that warehouse.”
Shit.
If that’s the case, and he was sabotaged by his own father, then how can he stay that calm? Just what type of steel is Kirill Morozov made of?
Maksim changes the subject to focus on me, and I realize they’re trying to escape the reality they find themselves in and whatever the future holds for them.
Omitting the husband and wife roles Kirill and I played, I tell them about Nadia and Nicholas while fighting tears.
“It’s a miracle they accepted soldiers in their house,” Yuri says. “Most villagers have a distaste toward us.”
“Uh, the captain stole civilian clothes, and we pretended that we were attacked by soldiers.”
“Smart.” Maksim grins. “As expected of Captain.”
Yuri nods in agreement. “Point is, you came back safe and sound.”
I’m not so sure about that. It feels as if something has been missing since I saw the blood and the old couple’s corpses. A part of me has remained in their house and refuses to return.
That part of me is so riddled with grief, it’s impossible to chase away the red haze that’s been turning my vision hazy.
So I choose to focus on Maksim and Yuri, still feeling grateful that they’re safe. I don’t know how I would’ve dealt with all this if something had happened to them.
Soon after, the others join in and we catch up on the mission and the aftermath.
What seems like an hour passes by before a solemn-faced Viktor appears at the threshold of the entrance.
The captain follows behind, eternally calm and unaffected. He’s nothing more than a monster dressed in human clothes.
I will never forget his practical, methodical expression when he was looking at Nadia’s and Nicholas’s faces. Or when he received the news of his men’s death.
Nothing and no one can affect him, and I’m not sure why that fills me with a sense of dread.
Everyone stands at attention, and a shuffling of beds and limbs sounds from behind us as the injured men try to stand at attention.
“At ease,” Viktor says.
When everyone complies, Kirill steps to the middle of the room, naturally stealing everyone’s attention. He stands tall and erect, like a charismatic performer. When he speaks, his tone carries like a cool breeze. “The mission made me realize that I can’t escape my destiny and that if I attempt to, I’ll keep losing loyal men who followed me without asking questions. For that reason, I’m leaving the army and going back to New York. I understand if you want to stay here. I’ll personally make sure you’re transferred to elite units. Those who do not wish to remain here are welcome to come along. We’re leaving in three days.”
And with that, he turns and exits the room with Viktor in tow, leaving us in a jumble of confused emotions.
Not one, and I mean not one man, has decided to stay in the military. Not even those who secretly like the military lifestyle and the bursts of violence.
According to Maksim, their excuse is a simple, “We’ll get plenty of violence in New York; it’s just a different type of violence.”
That leaves me. I always thought I’d spend a few years in the military, go up in rank, and get close to the commandants so I could find out who ordered the hit on my family.
But due to the change in the situation, I’m not so sure about the next step.
So I call for an emergency meeting with Uncle Albert at the usual warehouse. My shoulders drop when I find out he’s come alone this time, without a certain little boy climbing him as if he were a tree.
My uncle has thinned, looking way unhealthier than he did the last time I saw him. It’s been only a month, but it feels like a year ago.
It’s strange how time functions. When I saw Nadia’s and Nicholas’s bodies three days ago, it felt as if I’d been thrown back in time to when my own family experienced a similar tragedy.
After we got to the base, I told Captain that I was going back to the village to make sure the couple were buried properly, but he said he’d already taken care of it. Not sure when he had the time, but he got it done.
However, the couple’s deaths wasn’t the only thing that affected me. The fast-paced nature of the events that followed made me more conscious about what other tragedies await me.
Uncle Albert and I break after a hug, and he studies me. “You look…different.”
“It’s the muscles.” I flex my bicep, and he smiles, showing his straight, perfect teeth.
“No, it’s something else, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He leans against the wall beside the entrance to the warehouse.
Freezing air slips through the cracks as a charged silence falls between us. I called him for an emergency, and he’s waiting for me to spill. But I don’t know where or how to start.
“What’s wrong, Sashenka?”
My chin trembles, but I don’t give in to the tears. “I just came back from…uh, a mission, and it was kind of brutal.”
“Are you okay?” He studies me with new eyes, affectionate and full of compassion like those of Papa.
I shake my head. “I’m fine, but the unit lost a lot of men. So Kirill, the captain, decided to take what remains of the unit and go back to New York since he thinks his father won’t leave him alone otherwise. But the thing is, his father is someone you know.”
A crease appears between his brows. “Someone I know?”
“The man who came to talk to you guys in the main house before everything went down.”
“What man, Sasha?”
“The overweight man with a balding head. His last name is Morozov.”
My uncle’s expression darkens, and an incomparable sense of rage emanates from him in waves. “How do you know that man? Have you met him? Talked to him? Did he recognize you?”
“No to all. I only saw him from afar. He’s…the captain’s father, but he doesn’t really get along with him, so I don’t think he’s involved. No, I’m sure he isn’t. They’re just related by blood, but that doesn’t really mean they have the same character…” I trail off. What am I doing?
It definitely sounded as if I was defending Kirill. In front of my own uncle.
“You’ll stay away from that man and his son and their world, Sasha.”
“W-why?”
“You don’t need to know. Transfer to another unit and stay in Russia where I can look after you.”
“Can’t you at least tell me what that man had to do with the massacre? I can go to New York and kill him. I can—”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Uncle Albert’s voice booms around me with the lethality of a bomb.
The only other time he’s spoken to me in this harsh tone was when he told me to run while I was half dazed. When he pushed me out of danger’s way so hard, he broke my arm.
Just like then, it feels as if the situation is heading in a disastrous direction.
My uncle grabs me by the shoulders and lowers his head to stare into my eyes, his gaze firm, filled with the sternness of a parent. “Listen to me, Sasha. Those people are a pack of wolves who are only out for destruction. If you see them, you walk the other way. Got it?”
I stare silently for a moment, and he repeats, louder this time, “Got it?”
I nod once. “Can’t you tell me more?”
“No. It’s for your own safety.”
“How is it for my safety when I know nothing about the reason I had to lose my whole life? I lost my parents, my cousins, and almost everyone I know. Don’t I deserve to know why they had to meet such a fate?”
“It was just a bad business transaction.”
“What type of business costs a family their lives? Were we just in investment and stock exchange, Uncle? Or was there something else I don’t know about?”
“We are a law-abiding family.”
“Then do you mind telling me how such a law-abiding family was practically begging a mafia man like Roman Morozov for help mere days before their eventual ending?”
“Drop it, Sasha.”
“But—”
“Out of all the people who’ve known about Morozov and his shady methods, I’m the last one alive, and that’s only possible because I’m in hiding. Do you now understand why you can’t know?”
No. But I nod anyway.
“Good.” He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small blue candy. “Mike sent you this. He’s been hiding it under his pillow for a month.”
I take it with both hands. “Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah. We’re hanging in there, but don’t worry about us. Just take care of yourself.”
After some catching up, my uncle reminds me to stay away from all the Morozovs, then disappears through the snow.
I spend the entire way back to the base thinking about his warnings. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that Kirill’s father had something to do with my family’s fate.
If I remain in the army, I’ll never find out the connection between that man and what’s become of me.
Uncle Albert said we wouldn’t meet or talk unless there’s an emergency. That means we likely won’t be in contact for months.
When I reach the base, I’m resolved to discover the truth. There’s nothing that can stop me from seeking revenge. Not even my uncle.
Despite the low morale I’ve suffered from since Nadia’s and Nicholas’s deaths, I feel a slightly different mood as I catch glimpses of everyone packing their bags. The badly injured will also be going since, shocker, Kirill has access to his own airplane.
Very convenient.
I’m about to join Maksim and Yuri in helping the injured soldiers pack when a wall appears out of nowhere.
Sorry, I mean Viktor.
He stands in front of me in all his stoic glory. “Where have you been?”
“Outside.”
“Outside where?”
“Just outside.”
He narrows one of his eyes, but then he points behind him. “The captain is asking for you.”
“He…is?”
I don’t know why I thought Kirill would now avoid any alone time with me.
Judging by Viktor’s scowl, he doesn’t appreciate my unnecessary question.
I step past him and head to the office. The moment I knock, a nervous breath leaves me.
“Come in.”
I try and fail not to be affected by his voice.
In the office, I find him perched on the front of his desk, studying some paperwork, and only his back is visible. The hard muscles peek from beneath the thin black shirt, appearing stiff.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask in a careful tone.
He doesn’t turn around. “You’ll be transferred to the sixth unit effective tomorrow.”
My heart falls, but I swallow the feeling and keep my cool. “Do I get a say in this?”
“Tell me the unit you had in mind and I will see what I can do. The sixth and ninth are the best. Which one do you want?”
“I want to go with you to New York.”
His hands pause on the paper, and he slowly faces me. The ice of his eyes meets mine for the first time since I stepped into the room, and, despite their coldness, they manage to warm me up from head to toe.
A few silent seconds tick by before he asks, “You want to go where?”
“New York. With you.”
“No.”
“Why not? You gave everyone that choice.”
“Everyone who came with me from New York. You didn’t.”
“But I want to go.”
“And be what?”
“Whatever Maksim and the others will be.”
“Maksim and the others will be my guards.”
“I’m…fine with that.”
“You’re a woman, Sasha.” His voice lowers. “My home isn’t the place for you.”
“That’s sexist. Besides, if I can handle the army, I can handle this.”
While still facing me, he grabs the table. His hands tighten on the edge and his biceps bulge beneath his shirt as if he’s stopping himself from doing something extreme. “There’s one difference.”
“Which is?” My voice lowers, and I’m breathing with difficulty again.
“I will be your boss, and I will demand complete obedience.”
“I understand.”
“I’m not joking, Sasha. Out of here, it’s not martial law. It’s my law. Your life will be mine.”
I nod again. Yes, I might be going to a more dangerous place than where I am right now, but that’s better than being stuck in the same environment and doing nothing but surviving.
If putting my life in this emotionless man’s hands is what I have to do, then so be it.
