Chapter 30 Tatiana
TATIANA
The detective waiting at the side entrance of the police station looks bored. He's leaning against the doorframe with a cigarette between his fingers and scrolling through his phone with the other hand. When I approach, he glances up and flicks the cigarette onto the pavement.
"You Tatiana Sarnova?" He doesn't wait for an answer before pulling the door open.
"I'm Tatiana," I say cautiously, stepping past him into the dimly lit hallway. "Who are you?"
"Rashid," he grumbles as he locks the door behind us and starts walking without checking whether I'm following.
"Let's get this over with. I've got tickets to a game at nine.
" He's wearing a police uniform, but he's not acting much like a policeman.
I glance around nervously at the plainly painted cinderblock walls and follow him slowly.
Dimitri and I went several more rounds before he finally caved and listened to me, with conditions. One of which is this stupid Kevlar vest with heavy ceramic plates. It's so bulky and gaudy, but I could tell he was never going to let me out of his penthouse if I didn't put it on.
"Is it always this empty on Friday nights?
" Tugging at the bottom of the vest, I fix the oversized hoodie I was forced to wear and notice how oddly quiet it is.
There are almost no other officers here at all.
Dimitri said the one I'd meet tonight is on his payroll.
I wonder how many others in this place are too, or if they know this man is.
"Sent most everyone home early." He glances back at me. "Gas leak in the south wing. Real pain in the ass, but better safe than sorry, right?"
He speaks to me like I don't know everything that's going on, or maybe he's saying that for some other reason—the cameras record sound or something, who knows. I don’t need to know the official story of what they told people to get them out of the building.
I just find it fascinating that Dimitri has this much power.
And I don't care for this guy's demeanor at all. I thought if these men were on Dimitri's payroll, they'd be more likely to help put me at ease. I don’t regret pushing Dimitri to let me come, but it's a bit scarier than I thought it'd be. This jerk could at least try to help me calm down.
"So, what's the joke?" I ask to fill the silence.
He leads me silently to a metal door that's shut. It's painted in thick brushstrokes easily picked out, as if someone did it hastily and not in a professional way. And he turns over his shoulder to scowl at me as he grips the handle.
"Major General Popov's waiting inside." Rashid opens the door. "He's going to ask you some questions about the night of the murder. Just answer naturally and don't overthink it."
"Okay." I take a breath and step into the room.
The space is small with concrete walls painted an ugly beige.
A metal table sits in the middle with two chairs on one side and one on the other.
Major General Popov stands near the far wall wearing a nice suit and polished shoes.
He's older than I expected with gray hair and sharp eyes that assess me immediately.
"Miss Sarnova." He gestures to the single chair. "Please have a seat."
I sit down, and Rashid takes one of the chairs across from me. Popov remains standing near the wall with his arms crossed. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead and make everything look washed out and institutional, and this feels more like a real interrogation than it should.
Dimitri told me these men are on his payroll. They're just here to make this look legitimate while actually protecting me. But this room makes my skin crawl anyway.
"Thank you for coming in tonight." Popov's voice is formal. "I heard you've had a hell of a time, and for that I'm sorry. I'd like to make this as painless as possible for you."
"It's fine." I tug at the vest under my shirt.
The heavy material's uncomfortable and makes me sweat, but knowing it's there helps me breathe easier.
The entire point of this exercise is to draw Malcom Kozlov out in the open as he comes after me.
That means bullets will be flying and I will be ducking for cover.
I know why Dimitri wants me out of here, and now I'm starting to rethink this.
"I understand you witnessed a murder outside the Gravitch casino several weeks ago." Popov eyes me like a real cop, though I'm pretty sure he actually has no intention of this being a real interview.
"Yes, I did," I say numbly. I didn't realize I was actually going to be forced to talk about the shit.
"I'm just curious about a few things before we shelve this case…" Popov narrows his eyes at me skeptically, and I get the feeling I'm gonna be put through the wringer before this is over.
"Shelve it?" I mumble. Police will just brush a murder under a rug? Dimitri really does have more power than I thought.
Popov shifts his weight and looks at me directly. "Yeah, it's all over the news but without a body, we have no physical proof that a crime was committed."
They're telling me that nobody is going to solve Yakov Volodin's murder because the Gravitches made him disappear so thoroughly, the police have nothing to work with.
Which means I'm still being hunted, and this whole setup to take Malcom Kozlov down is pointless, but I'm still playing the part of the dutiful partner. I should've known better.
Rashid drums his fingers on the metal table. Something about this guy creeps me out. "The department isn't going to waste resources chasing something that might not have even happened."
I rest my elbows on the table and my head on my palms. It doesn't matter to the men hunting me that the police will drop the trail.
They'll still come. I have to remind myself of that so I don't get upset with Dimitri.
He didn't do this. It isn't his fault. I can't take my anger out on him no matter how frustrating it is to know I'm being hunted for no reason.
I'm stewing in my own frustration when a loud, percussive boom vibrates through me. The explosion that tears through the building shatters my thoughts and transforms the world into chaos.
But the sound isn't like what you think it's like because you watch it on TV.
It's so loud, it physically shakes the walls and the table and every cell in my body.
The walls shake so violently that dust rains down from the ceiling tiles and the metal table between us vibrates with enough force that I can feel it in my bones.
The lights flicker and then die completely, plunging us into darkness for several heartbeats before emergency power floods the room with red light that makes everything look like we're trapped inside a nightmare.
Then alarms begin their piercing shriek and I cover my ears in a flash, feeling panic rush through my chest painfully fast. Rashid races toward the door with his weapon drawn before I've even processed what's happening.
Popov yanks the door open, and smoke billows into the room from the hallway beyond.
"Front entrance took a direct hit," Popov barks, and he pulls his own weapon. "Looks like they used enough explosive to take out the entire fucking lobby."
The sound of gunfire erupts from somewhere deeper in the station, and it's not the scattered pops of handguns but the sustained chatter of automatic weapons being fired in controlled bursts. These fuckers aren't messing around.
People are shouting in multiple languages and I can hear boots hammering against the floors as officers rush toward whatever is happening at the front of the building.
"Get her to the back exit." Rashid darts past Popov into the smoke-filled hallway. "I'll help establish a defensive line."
Popov grabs my arm and hauls me out of the chair so hard and fast, I stumble.
We rush into the hall where smoke is already making it difficult to see more than a few feet in any direction, and I can barely breathe.
It burns my lungs, scraping my insides up like I’m breathing lava or acid, and a coughing fit attacks me as I try to find my way in the darkness.
The hallway has transformed into a war zone.
Police officers pour from offices with weapons ready.
The captains I saw when I first arrived are gathered near the main hall, shouting orders into their radios while trying to coordinate a response to an attack they clearly weren't prepared for, while I try to run for my life.
Why didn't anyone tell them this would happen? I know some of them will likely lose their lives, and my heart is already breaking for their families. I almost turn back but Popov is strong, dragging me away from the horrid sounds.
"This is a ten-thirteen, all units respond!" one of them is screaming into his radio. "We have multiple armed suspects with automatic weapons inside the station! I repeat, suspects are inside the building!"
"Officers are down in the front lobby!" Another voice joins the chaos from somewhere I can't see. "We need medical and we need backup right fucking now!"
The gunfire intensifies, moving closer to where we're standing against a wall with every passing second.
Popov pulls me in the opposite direction from the fighting, moving quickly while the smoke gets thicker.
We make it about forty feet before another explosion tears through the building from what sounds like the complete opposite side from the first blast.
The windows that line the hallway shatter inward with tremendous force, sending glass spraying across the floor in a deadly wave. I throw my arms up to protect my face, but pieces still slice into my hands and I feel something warm running down my cheek.
"Multiple breach points!" someone is screaming nearby. "They're hitting us from the east wing and the west wing simultaneously! We're completely surrounded!"
"South exit, move!" Popov shoves me down another hall, and I stumble again, using the wall to keep myself upright. For someone who's trying to keep me alive, he isn't very kind. "Go now!"
I run—through the smoke and heat and the red haze that gives the only light by which I can navigate, and my ears are ringing so that I can barely hear his instructions. Where the hell is Dimitri? He's supposed to be here by now. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Popov spins suddenly and fires several shots back the way we came, and someone screams. I hear a body hit the floor, but I don't look back. All I can do is run, looking for an open door or a window I can escape from. It wasn't supposed to go down like this.
"Keep moving and don't stop!" Popov orders behind me, and he doesn't have to tell me twice.
Through the haze I see the red glow of an exit sign high on the wall in the distance.
I focus on that as I run harder, but just as I'm passing an open room, something hits me.
It feels like a car ramming into my body, throwing me violently against a wall.
I slam into an open door frame and spin, slapping my hand on the opposite wall.
It hurts so bad, I grunt and yelp, but it all happens so fast, I can barely react.
My body hits the floor hard, head knocking on the concrete tiles, and I roll into the far wall, clutching my chest.
I can't breathe.
For a moment, I see stars fade in and out of my vision, and I think I may pass out as my lungs seize and the air refuses to come.
Then I cough hard and hear more shouting and feet stomping past me so close, they almost step on me.
I don’t know where Popov is, or Rashid, and for all I know, they're dead or bleeding out somewhere while I'm here struggling to suck in air. I roll tightly against the wall as I hear more footsteps coming and realize they can't see me because of the smoke.
When the first inkling of air seeps into my lungs and the stars fade from my vision, I see under the layer of smoke that I'm in an open doorway. Just feet from me is a desk, and if I can get around it and tucked underneath, I might just make it out of this alive.
My back screams at me not to move as I begin using my elbows to pull myself across the floor, littered with glass shards, to the desk.
My body scrapes along the concrete, tearing up my already injured belly even more, and after struggling for several painfully terrifying seconds, I manage to suck in a full breath and get under the desk where no one can see me.
I sit there shaking, feeling tears burn my eyes and drip down my cheeks as I try to force myself not to cough and wonder where Dimitri is and what hell he's facing for him to have not gotten to me yet.
These fuckers are everywhere, and I know any second, they're going to go through the rooms one by one, checking every available space for me. And when that happens, it won't matter that I have a bulletproof vest on. The gun will be pointed at my head, not my heart…
Which is beating so hard, I might just have a cardiac right now. Dimitri has to get here soon.
He has to.
I can't let myself imagine a scenario where he doesn't.