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Valerie rushes to me, almost knocking me over as she grabs me and burying her face into my chest. She’s crying again, but I don’t understand why.
“I’m fine,” I say, rubbing her back.
“Well, sir, you didn’t look fine there just a minute ago,” Boris says, shaking her head. “Honestly looked like we were going to have to take you out of here on a stretcher.”
I laugh, but I find that my throat is so dry that it hurts. “I can walk. I just want a bomb team at the house ASAP. It was probably a bluff, but Anatoly claimed this place was rigged to explode at any second.”
Boris’s pupils expand to take up his entire irises. “Then let’s go. There’s no time to lose.”
I don’t quite feel like running again. My legs are heavy with lactic acid and my muscles are screaming at me to collapse onto the floor again, but I push past the pain, picking up Valerie and carrying her out of the room.
Boris runs ahead of us, leading the way down several long hallways until we reach the main staircase. I feel like he’s moving far too fast, but when I look at my surroundings, I realize that I’m the one moving too slowly.
It isn’t Valerie that’s weighing me down. The adrenaline is taking its toll on my body as it wears off, dragging me down as the aches and pains resurface.
I almost don’t make it out the front door, but the smell of car exhaust outside keeps me going. I’ll be able to sit down in a moment.
“Pasha, you’re going in the back. Valerie is going in the front with me,” Boris commands as we reach a green armored van among a fleet of other vehicles.
“I want to be with her,” I say as I put her down.
Boris places his hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “Pasha, respectfully, you need medical attention. The medics will see you in the back. We’re all in the same car. Don’t worry about Valerie right now. She’s safe.”
“But…”
Valerie gives me a pleading look, and I sigh. “Okay, but she needs to be looked at, too.”
“I’ll go second,” she says with a reassuring smile. “Please, just listen to Boris.”
Reluctantly, I climb into the back of the van where two medics immediately start examining me. They cut my shirt open, searching for wounds as the van speeds away from Pasha’s mansion.
“I’m fine. I’m really okay,” I grumble as they poke and prod me in places that ache like hell.
“Does this hurt?” one of the medics asks, poking his finger into my ribs.
“Ouch, fuck! Of course that hurts!”
The medic rubs his chin and nods. “Alright, looks like some broken ribs. Put him on morphine and monitor his vitals. He’s in rough shape.”
“I don’t need that shit,” I growl, but I’m too weak to stop them.
I feel warm again, all fuzzy and comfortable like I’m lying in a bed of feathers. All the bumps and vibrations of the van smooth out, and I’m floating above everything again. It’s a bliss so divine I never want to leave it.
A loud boom breaks me out of my daze for a moment, and I hear Boris cursing from the front of the van.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my words slurring as I struggle to stay awake.
“The house exploded,” one of the medics says.
Fuck, that bastard Anatoly was telling the truth. A few more minutes inside and we’d all be dead.
But we’re alive. All of us, except for him.
I close my eyes, feeling warm all over as I finally allow myself to drift off into the darkness. My mission has been accomplished. We can start over now.
The right way.
45
