Chapter 30 Losham
LOSHAM
Losham strode toward the laboratory building with Rami by his side, two loyal guards behind him, and several more hidden between the buildings.
There was no telling when or why his brothers would decide to eliminate him.
Chances were that they wouldn't do it in broad daylight or in public, but he wasn't taking any chances.
The late afternoon sun was still punishing, making him regret the jacket that he should have left at the office.
Then again, conducting an informal interrogation in shirtsleeves was not something he did.
Appearance mattered, and Losham always chose to communicate authority and control.
He also intended to project absolute certainty that he already knew the answers to the questions he was about to ask, regardless of whether he actually knew those answers or not.
It was a game he had played countless times before and had mastered.
He knew Dimitri Volkov's background well since he'd been tasked by Navuh to recruit Doctor Petrov and his assistant, and he still remembered the relevant details.
The guy was in his mid-twenties, top of his class at Moscow University, and personally selected by Petrov to assist him in a top-secret government project.
The project had been morally iffy even for the Russians, and when things became dicey, Petrov and Dimitri had been thrown under the bus, so to speak.
Petrov had been committed to an insane asylum, and his assistant had been arrested and sent to a labor camp.
When Losham and Rami reached the lab building, Rami tried the door, but it was locked, which wasn’t surprising given the recent attack. He knocked on the glass door, and as Doctor Petrov turned toward the sound, they were immediately buzzed in.
The drop in temperature was a welcome relief from the heat of the day.
Losham hadn't visited the new lab in a while, but the interior was exactly as he remembered from his last visit.
The workstations were arranged in a functional layout, the various equipment hummed quietly, and there was a faint chemical smell that pervaded every laboratory he'd ever been in.
The place was clean, organized, and efficient.
Whatever else could be said about the Russians, they ran a competent operation, and now that they had an assistant, things were probably running even more smoothly.
Well, not really. The girl had caused more trouble than she was worth, and he would have ordered her elimination himself if not for the impact her death would have on Dimitri. For better or worse, Losham needed both scientists alive to keep Dave in top shape.
He’d noted that when Doctor Petrov had come down to open the door for them, a brief flash of alarm had crossed his face before it was replaced by a carefully neutral expression.
Good. A man who wasn't alarmed by an unexpected visit from the person who controlled his life was either very brave or very stupid, and Petrov was neither.
Dimitri's reaction on seeing them was slower and more measured. He appeared composed and greeted Losham with a nod of acknowledgment.
The man was too composed.
Losham studied him as he crossed the lab.
On the surface, Dimitri Volkov appeared unchanged from the last time Losham had seen him.
The same lean frame, the same dark hair, the same watchful intelligence in his eyes.
But there were subtle differences. He appeared more centered, more solid, as if his body had found a new equilibrium.
The set of his shoulders seemed broader, but it was hard to tell under the lab coat.
"Lord Losham." Petrov said with the deference of a man who understood hierarchy. "This is an unexpected visit. What can we do for you?"
Losham didn't answer immediately. He deliberately let his gaze sweep over the lab, lingering briefly on the equipment and the drug storage refrigerator before turning to Dimitri.
"I came to check on your newest lab member," he said. "The girl who was injured in the harbor incident."
A flicker of surprise crossed Dimitri's face. "Mattie is resting upstairs. The doctor set her broken fingers, and she's recovering."
"Broken fingers." Losham made a sympathetic sound even though he couldn't care less. "That's unfortunate. She's started here quite recently, correct?"
Dimitri nodded. "She assists with cleanup and some routine tasks that don't require our expertise. She saves us a lot of time that is better spent on research."
"I see." Losham pulled a rolling stool from one of the workstations and sat down. "You were with her at the harbor when the attack occurred."
"Yes."
Rami positioned himself near the door to ensure that no one came in to disturb Losham while he was conducting his interview.
"Tell me what happened," Losham said. "I want to hear your version of the events."
Dimitri turned his chair around so he was facing Losham and folded his arms across his chest. "It was our day off, so we decided to take a stroll down the harbor and enjoy some fresh air.
Four warriors confronted us, accusing us of being responsible for Tarik's death, which we had nothing to do with.
They wouldn't listen and attacked us. I tried to defend Mattie and myself as best I could until help arrived. "
"As best you could," Losham repeated the phrase without injecting it with sarcasm. "I heard you did well. How does a human with no military training defend himself against four experienced immortal warriors?"
"By running and ducking, mostly, and getting beaten in the process."
Losham arched a brow. There were no marks on the young human. If he had been beaten only a day before, he would have worn the evidence of it today.
Petrov cleared his throat. "If I may, Lord Losham."
Losham turned to him with a faint smile. "By all means."
"The warriors who attacked were associates of Tarik. They had a grudge, and they acted on it. They weren't trying to kill Dimitri right away. They were toying with him, pushing him around, and enjoying seeing his terror. That's why it seemed as if he was able to defend himself against them."
"There were witnesses who reported that Dimitri was fighting with immortal strength and speed." Losham kept his gaze on Petrov while watching Dimitri in his peripheral vision.
Petrov waved a dismissive hand. "The witnesses were simple men, and they were not close enough to see what was actually happening.
Workers don't understand combat dynamics.
What they saw was a man desperate to protect the woman he loves, fueled by adrenaline and terror.
Adrenaline does incredible things to the human body.
There are documented cases of humans displaying extraordinary physical feats under extreme stress. "
"Lifting vehicles off trapped children," Losham said dryly. "Yes, I've heard those stories."
"It's not just stories. It's documented neurochemistry.
The fight-or-flight response floods the body with cortisol and adrenaline, temporarily overriding pain signals and increasing muscular output.
Combined with the fact that the warriors were toying with him rather than trying to kill him right away, the result could easily look like supernatural ability to an untrained observer. "
It was a competent explanation. Well-rehearsed, scientifically grounded, and almost plausible.
Losham didn't buy a word of it.
He shifted his attention to Dimitri, meeting his eyes directly and testing whether the human's mind would yield to thralling.
He reached out with his mind, pushing gently against the edges of Dimitri's thoughts, and met a wall.
It wasn't the panicked resistance of someone who knew they were being probed, and it wasn't the practiced shields of a trained operative. It was just a blank, smooth surface that his mental touch slid off of, like water off polished stone. A natural barrier, dense and impenetrable.
Losham withdrew without showing his surprise.
Natural mental barriers weren't unheard of, especially in certain human populations.
The Russians seemed particularly prone to them, probably due to some combination of genetics, temperament, and the cultural conditioning of growing up in a society where trusting authority was a survival liability.
The smarter the human, the more likely they were to possess such defenses. And Dimitri Volkov was very smart.
The barrier didn't prove anything. It also didn't disprove anything, which was the problem.
"Dr. Volkov," Losham said, leaning forward. "I'll ask you directly, and I would appreciate a direct answer. Have you been experimenting with the enhancement drugs? Modifying the formula for human use?"
Dimitri met his gaze without flinching. "No."
"You're certain."
"I am. The enhancement compounds were designed for immortal physiology. Adapting them for humans would be an entirely different research track, one that I haven't pursued because it wasn't part of my mandate."
His face was calm. His voice was steady, and his body language was relaxed but attentive. It was the posture of a man telling the truth.
But Losham had centuries of experience reading people's most subtle tells.
There was a micro-tension in the scientist's jaw. A fractional stillness in the eyes that suggested conscious control rather than natural ease. It was the difference between a man who had nothing to hide and a man who was very good at hiding things.
Losham had seen thousands of liars in his long life.
The bad ones fidgeted, avoided eye contact, and talked too much, but the good ones did exactly what Dimitri was doing.
They became more controlled, not less, stripping away tells instead of adding them and creating a performance so smooth that only someone who'd spent centuries studying human deception would notice.