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Vadim nods his head and eases it back down.
“You have one job right now,” I say to Vadim.
He turns his head to look at me. I lean my head forward and lock eyes on him.
“Don’t fucking die.”
* * *
I haven’t beenin the hotel suite since we left for Boris Stepanov’s restaurant. The door slides closed as I walk in and the automatic lock emits a soft buzz as I head towards the bedroom.
I remember having a bad feeling as we were heading out, but despite my instincts, it’s hard to imagine things would have played out so horribly. Everything looks almost the same as it was when we left, except I notice our luggage bag open with clothes thrown across the floor. My laptop lays under a desk across the bedroom. Given how far it is from the bag, it looks like the contents of the bag were tossed onto the floor.
Tatyana was back here.
I scan the floor, searching for anything that could be missing, and realize the envelope carrying the counterfeit identification I had made for Tatyana is gone. I bring my hand to my head, rubbing it across my forehead, knowing she could be anywhere by now.
The laptop is lying open, facedown on the carpeting. I place it on the desk and turn it on, pulling up the footage of Vadim’s warehouse being robbed. I’ve watched this video so many times I’ve lost count. I know how almost every moment plays out, but I decide to watch it again, moving the cursor to the moment Vadim’s weapons are being carried out of the warehouse, when I hear a knock at the door.
“Eyy,” I hear growled from the other side.
Kalash.
I walk up and pull the door open.
“And?” Kalash asks in a voice full of dread at the update I have for him.
“He’s better,” I say, giving Kalash a moment to feel a sense of relief. “But it’s still a delicate situation.”
Kalash scoffs as he enters the room, tipping to make sure his head clears the doorway. “Good that Vadim’s not a delicate man. Whatever the situation is, he’ll beat the fuck out of it.”
I smile, amused by Kalash’s brutal positivity. He stops in front of the laptop playing the warehouse footage. I return and see the warehouse floor cleaned out on the video. This is where Bodhan stopped the footage when we first watched it. It’s the point where I always stopped watching.
This time, I let the video continue playing. At first, there’s nothing but stillness. The newly bare warehouse floor reflects the overhead lighting. I narrow my eyes, looking at the footage section by section until something flashes in the corner of the video. I rewind and zoom into the far background, which is a line of windows. When I replay the video in slow motion, I catch a lime-green sports car speeding down the front of the warehouse.
Bodhan’s car.
Kalash’s chest pops outwards as he laughs to himself. “That prick.”
Bodhan being a part of the heist isn’t surprising. He was signaling Boris Stepanov in the restaurant. Part of me wanted to believe he was lying about Tatyana being a spy, but she confirmed it herself. All it proved was Bodhan defected to the Stepanovs a while ago.
“What idiot buys a rare car and paints it that sort of color?” Kalash asks aloud.
I shake my head. It was a terrible choice, but I’ve seen men destroy expensive cars just to show they have enough money to destroy it.
“Makes it easy to track,” Kalash continues.
“That’s not a bad idea,” I add.
Kalash shoots me an indignant look. “It’s a fucking brilliant idea,” he roars. He pulls a device from his pocket and turns it on. “I have an old military friend who works in intelligence. They pay him shit,” he says with a chuckle. “He’s always looking for a job, so I gave him one.”
A green light glows from the device Kalash is holding and blinks rapidly. I’m tempted to track Bodhan and make him pay for what he’s done, but there are more pressing issues at the moment. Finding Boris Stepanov. Finding Tatyana.
“It won’t undo what’s been done,” I say, trying to reason with Kalash.
He looks at me with wild eyes. “When life gives you a chance to shove a hot poker up the ass of a man who deserves it… you take that chance.”
* * *
