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As he walks down the sidewalk, I give him space before I step out after him, following at a pace that won’t seem suspicious. I want to make sure that he’s not meeting with anyone else who might pose a problem before I make a move–it would be unusual for Yuri to have a meeting during daylight hours, but there’s always a chance. I’m good at my work because I’m cautious and patient, and I have no intention of changing that now.
When he walks into a grocery, I could shout with how pleased I am.See? It worked out, after all. It’ll be even easier today than it would have been the other night. Waiting was to your benefit.
It’s an excuse, and I know it. Still, I ignore the thought, walking casually across the street once Yuri has disappeared into the store. Formulating a plan comes as naturally as breathing. I slip into the alleyway next to the grocery, my fingers tapping against the syringe in my pocket as I wait in the shadows. The streets are mostly empty, and once he comes out, he won’t see me, as long as I’m quick and careful.
I’ve spent years honing my ability to be both. When Yuri steps back out some time later, as he passes by the alley, I take one look to make sure there are no eyes looking our way as I reach out, grabbing him and pulling him back. He’s not a large man, and my hand covers his mouth quickly before he can shout.
He struggles, but it’s not much difficulty to restrain him. I have the needle in his neck before he can twist away, and as I drag him deeper into the darkness of the alley, I feel him sag against me.
“Sorry, Yuri,” I mutter. “I wouldn’t have chosen this end for you. But a job is a job, and no one tells Valeria no.”
I know a path back to where I left my car through the alleys. I leave his bag of groceries there, potatoes and onions spilling out of the alley shadows into the sidewalk’s sunlight, and disappear behind the buildings.
—
When I have him safely in the warehouse, still unconscious, I look down at him and consider. He hadn’t seen my face in thealleyway, and I feel an unfamiliar twinge of guilt as I look down at the bound man.
He might have given Valeria bad information, but it’s thanks to him that I found Natalia at all.
“Valeria didn’t ask me to question him,” I mutter to myself, considering what to do. She only asked for proof that I killed him. I’m not going to spare him, I’m not a fool, but it occurs to me that I could make this easier on him.
I could make his death kinder.
I planned to wait for him to wake up, to spend some time questioning him myself, verifying the truth of everything he’d given me. But I have no reason to believe he’s ever led me astray.
“Just finish it.” I shake my head as I mutter the words, reaching for my gun with the silencer already affixed. The last thing he’ll ever know is being grabbed as he walks out of a grocery. Still, he won’t wake up to feel the fear of knowing for certain he’s going to die or endure the pain of a slow questioning. He won’t know that I, someone he trusted as much as men like he and I can ever trust someone, was the architect of his end.
It’s to salve my own twinge of guilt as much as out of mercy, I know that, but I focus on the part of it thatismercy, as I press the muzzle to his temple.
One shot, and it’s finished, without Yuri ever awakening to know his fate. The body slumps, and I set the gun aside, already thinking ahead to what’s next. Valeria will want to know the job is done, and I still have yet to speak to the Syndicate about Natalia, now that I feel certain it’s her.
When Yuri is disposed of, a tattooed finger kept to deliver to Valeria along with the wallet I found in his pocket with his identification, I clean and reorganize my space. Only when there’s no trace of what’s happened, just as it was when I arrived earlier, do I pull out the two burner phones I’m carrying.
The job is done,I text Valeria on one.Tell me when you want to meet.
And then, on the other, I dial the number she gave me for the Syndicate.
She’d given me the password to speak when someone answered, and I deliver it smoothly, without a hint of the nerves that I feel knotting in my gut. “Smert elo milost.”
Contact with the Syndicate is not something to be taken lightly. In all the years I worked for Viktor, I never spoke to anyone there. I knew that Levin, his right hand, had once been one of their best assassins until he broke away from them after the murder of his wife. I’d been careful to give them, and everything associated with them, a wide berth. Once in, it’s difficult to get out.
But I have no intention of staying for long.
“Who is this?” The voice on the other end says, low and coarse. “Your name or I hang up.”
“Mikhail Kasilov.”
“And how did you get this number, Mikhail Kasilov? Who gave you the password?”
“Valeria Belyaevna,” I say smoothly. “I have information about Natalia Obelensky that your boss might be interested in.”
“Wait on the line.” The voice is curt, cold, and then all I hear is silence and the pounding of the blood in my ears.
They have my name, now. But I doubt Valeria, who has made an effort to put distance between herself and the Syndicate, would give me the contact and connect herself with this if she didn’t think that Vladimir would want the information I have. I remind myself of that, to keep myself calm until the voice returns.
“Tonight. Come alone. Vladimir will see you.”
The relief I feel is almost palpable. I open my mouth to speak, but the line goes dead, and I know that whatever else I might want to say or ask, I’ll have to wait for tonight.
