Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
DEX
The building we’re using as a safehouse smells like dust and old concrete. It used to be a storage unit at some point, long before anyone bothered boarding up the windows and abandoning the place. The air is cold enough that every breath hangs for a second before fading.
The FBI got us to Russia on one of their private planes, but then told us we were on our own as they had no resources here to assist in our mission, which is why we’re in such a shitty place right now.
None of us complains. Privacy matters more than comfort, and this is the only space we’ve had in days that isn’t crawling with eyes.
Although it’s definitely crawling with something, I think as I eye a cockroach moving behind one of the abandoned crates.
Elias sits at the metal table we dragged away from the wall, the laptop open in front of him, wires running to a booster and a small power pack.
He’s been like this every night: focused, steady, and locked into whatever system he’s digging through.
Pete stands at his right shoulder, watching silently.
Sly leans on the edge of the table, arms crossed, waiting for news.
I stay a few steps back, pacing. I’ve been unable to sit still ever since Wren was taken. Only feeling her body held tightly in my arms will settle my racing heart now. My head feels too full, and if I don’t move, the pressure builds fast.
Elias’s fingers stop, and I immediately feel the tension rise.
Sly notices immediately. “Tell us.”
Elias scrolls twice and angles the screen. “This is the camera feed in the east interior corridor.”
The image sharpens enough to show two guards escorting someone down a long hallway, wrists cuffed, head lowered.
Jagger.
It’s the first time we’ve laid eyes on him since he was taken, and relief hits me hard.
He’s alive. He looks rough but not hurt, and that’s more than enough to steady my racing heart.
I don’t care about him because Wren does.
He is family. One of us. I want him out of there almost as badly as I want Wren out.
Elias switches angles, tracking the guards as they lead him through the house.
“It looks like they were keeping him in one of the outbuildings this whole time,” Elias says.
Pete swears under his breath. Sly steps closer, his jaw tightening.
“Why move him now?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Elias answers. “But Wren’s signal hasn’t changed. She’s still in that same room on the second floor. No cameras in there, though, at least not any I can find.”
Sly’s voice is low. “Ivan had Jagger locked in that shed for three weeks. Why bring him inside now?”
“It means something,” Elias says. “Ivan doesn’t make random decisions. If Jagger is in the main house, Ivan either wants him under closer watch or has plans to use him.”
Pete rubs his forehead. “He’s putting Jagger closer to whatever he’s doing with Wren.”
My fingers curl around the back of a chair until the wood creaks. “He’s preparing to break him.”
“Or her,” Elias adds quietly.
No one speaks after that. The hum of Elias’s laptop fills the room.
Finally, Sly exhales. “We can’t wait anymore. We need a plan.”
“We have one,” Elias says, pulling up a list. “But it isn’t ideal.”
Sly gestures sharply. “Explain.”
Elias folds the laptop halfway as he speaks. “I go in as a delivery driver.”
“I thought you said all the deliveries happen during the day?” Sly asks.
Elias nods. “I did.”
Pete frowns. “Daylight is the worst possible time.”
“I know,” Elias says. “But it’s the only window we have. The deliveries are predictable, routine, and low-security. Drivers aren’t part of Ivan’s organization. They are contractors. They get basic ID checks, nothing deeper.”
Sly nods slowly. “So you take a driver out, steal his truck, and go in as him.”
“Exactly,” Elias says. “I’ll forge his identification, steal his uniform, and drive straight through the main gates. They’ll be expecting the shipment.”
I shift my weight. “How will you get inside?”
“The drop-off area connects to a side corridor used by maintenance staff. I’ll have to take out the guards stationed there.”
“Why do you get to go in? We should help,” I tell him, not liking to be left out while he does everything.
His lips twist in thought as he looks at me.
Finally, he nods. “I have to go because I’m the only one of us who can speak Russian.
But,” he pauses as he looks at each of us, “you three could hide in the back, behind some fake crates. When I go in, you can help take out the guards. We won’t know if they’re watching me or the truck until we get there. You help me take them out.”
I crack my knuckles and smirk. “We can finally put my skills to the test.”
“If there are two guards, that means two of us can go inside,” Sly says, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“We’ll have to choose who goes based on uniform size when we get there,” Elias says in agreement.
“And once you’re in, then what?” I ask, leaning against the table as I tilt my head to stretch out my neck. I am dying to get out of here; it feels like we’ve barely moved in weeks.
“I’ll be dressed in the guard's uniform and plan to just move through the house like I belong there.”
“Like we belong there,” Pete corrects him.
“Right.” Elias nods. “We blend in and move through the interior without suspicion. We’ve seen guards transporting Jagger, so it’s not unusual. When I—we reach Wren and Jagger, we can remove them from their rooms under the pretense of relocating them for questioning or confinement.”
My pulse kicks hard. “You’re going to just walk them out of there?”
“Yes,” Elias says. “If I time it with a shift change, we can bring them downstairs and out through the service wing where the rest of you are waiting. Then we just drive out of there.”
Sly rubs his jaw. “This plan is insane.”
Elias’s voice doesn’t waver. “It is the only option that doesn’t require breaching a wall or fighting half of Ivan’s men in the dark. The delivery gives us legitimate entry into the compound. The uniforms give us access to Wren and Jagger, and the truck gives us a way out.”
Pete leans over the table. “There’s a lot that can go wrong.”
“There is,” Elias says. “But I think it’s our best bet.”
Sly crosses his arms. “What if they recognize us?”
“Why would they? We barely saw them in Montana. Besides, I’ll be speaking Russian,” Elias says. “With the right uniform and paperwork, they won’t look twice.”
Pete studies him for a long moment. “And if they do?”
“They won’t,” Elias repeats. “But if they do, I’ll handle it.”
“What about the list?” Pete asks.
“List?” I frown in confusion.
“Yeah, you know, the list of names we need to steal from Ivan to get us all pardoned by the US Government? Without it, we won’t be able to leave Russia.”
“My vote is that this mission is a rescue mission only. Once we have them back, we can make a new plan,” Elias says, his eyes cast down at his laptop. “I know it’s wiser to get both at the same time, but I want to minimize the risk of getting caught.”
“You want her to be safe,” I say knowingly.
“Is that so wrong?” he asks, as if worried about my answer, but I just smile at him and shake my head.
“Not wrong at all. I agree. We rescue our people, then we can figure out the next part later.”
“Agreed,” Sly says with a nod.
“Yeah, I don’t care about their stupid list. I care about our girl and Jagger,” Pete says with a grin.
Sly crosses his arms as he asks, “Timing?”
“We need to strike within the next forty-eight hours,” Elias says. “The moment Jagger was moved inside, our timeline changed. Ivan is escalating.”
Pete lifts his brows. “Sooner is better then.”
“Yes,” Elias answers. “Much sooner.”
Sly pushes away from the table. “Then start forging the identity.”
Elias is already reaching for his keyboard. “I’ll need an hour.”
I stay planted where I am because my body feels heavy and my head keeps replaying that image of Jagger being dragged down the hallway. I think about Wren too, and I'm wondering how scared she is right now. But she’s strong, I know she can survive this… whatever this is.
“We have to get them out,” I say.
Elias’s voice softens without losing focus. “We will.”
Pete grins. “We’ll burn that place down if we have to.”
Elias gives the smallest nod. “They just have to hold on a little longer.”
It feels like it's too fast, but at the same time, it’s not soon enough to have her back in my arms, where she belongs.
I look toward the boarded window, toward the direction of Ivan’s estate.
Forty-eight hours.