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“Deal? What deal?” I try to tug my wrists free to no avail.
One of the men, who is wearing a President’s Guard uniform, starts tying a rope around Alek’s wrists behind his back.
Alek looks over his shoulder at the guard, his face twisted in rage. “Et tu, Brute?”
When the guard finishes tying his wrists, he comes to stand in front of Alek. His lips are curled in disgust as he looks Alek up and down, and then, he spits in his face.
Alek recoils, closing his eyes.
The guard says something in German and points at the door, and the other men start marching him off the stage.
“Alek!” I scream.
He turns his head toward me and mouths, “I love you.”
A sob is wrenched from my chest as Alek is led away. He looks forward and follows the guards through the aisle to the back exit door, but a few bodies are lying in their path. Alek and the guards step over them, and when they reach the door, the lead guard kicks it open with a bang. I flinch.
The guy holding my wrists shoves me to the ground, and I cry out when my shoulder hits the floor.
The door shuts behind Alek and his captors as he’s marched away to an unknown destination with an unknown fate.
I tried to protect him, but I’m just a helpless teenage girl who can’t do shit, and as that realization sinks in, I break down. A wail stirs in my throat, and when I let it out, it echoes in the auditorium above the moans of pain.
President Kurochkin is being wheeled out on a stretcher while Alek’s mom follows. Mascara is running down her face, and her hair is sticking out from her chignon at all angles. Blood is splattered all over her pale pink dress.
Police officers and paramedics flood the auditorium, and they’re checking on every motionless body and injured person they can. But as I scan the room, I hold my breath, praying none of the bodies belong to either my dad or Galina.
A thick trail of blood is smeared across the floor on the opposite side of the stage. I follow it behind the curtain, and at the end sits Konstantin on the floor, who is holding onto Irina as she grips her leg, sobbing.
“We need a medic!” I cry out.
An EMT glances up at me, and I wave him over and point to Irina. Within sixty seconds, they wheel a stretcher up the ramp and load Irina onto it. Konstantin tries to follow, but they stop him, speaking in Russian.
He runs his fingers through his hair and watches them wheel Irina out of the auditorium.
“What did they say?” I ask.
Konstantin turns to me, blood smeared across his cheek and a weary look on his face. “There’s no room for me to ride in the ambulance with her. They’re having to fit two stretchers in every ambulance because so many are injured.”
“Fuck.” I blow out a breath. I run my fingers through my hair, though it’s tangled and caked with blood. “Hey, what was the deal Alek made with the attackers?
Konstantin sweeps his gaze over me. “Oh, right. You don’t speak German. Alek gave himself up to the Labor Party fighters in exchange for a ceasefire.”
The world comes to a grinding halt, making my stomach lurch.
“What are they going to do with him?” I’m afraid to hear the answer.
Konstantin shakes his head, his forehead creasing. “I don’t know.”
“But what if they kill him?” My voice rises in panic. “What’s to stop them?”
“Nothing.” He sighs. “Look, I’m going to give you a word of advice. Alek may pretend not to care about politics, but he does. He belongs to Andarusia, and he made his choice by sacrificing himself for his country—no matter how badly he wanted to choose you.”
Tears are welling in my eyes, giving him a blurry appearance.
He pats my shoulder before standing up, no doubt to follow Irina to the hospital.
I sob, burying my face in my hands. “Alek, you fucking idiot!”
