Chapter 22 Sergei
SERGEI
For a second, everything goes silent in my head. Then it all comes back at once.
“Kirill,” I say. “Can you stop this?”
He skids to the device and drops to a knee. His eyes move fast over the wires.
“This is not clean work,” he says. “He built it from mixed parts. Some are real, some decoys. I don’t know his pattern. If I pull wrong, we all go now.”
The timer keeps dropping. 01:58.
I see Raina’s face. I see Nadia’s face. There is no choice.
“We don’t defuse,” I say. “We move her.”
“Sergei, the charges are on the chair and the walls,” Kirill says. “If I cut the bolts, we still have wires. You carry her and the bomb together.”
“Then we outrun the room,” I say. “He packed this for a small space. We give it that and no more.”
I step behind the chair. Raina’s skin is cold under my fingers. “Raina,” I say close to her ear. “Stay with me. We’re going home.”
She makes a low sound. Her head moves a little.
I slice the tape at her ankles with my knife, then cut at her wrists. The tape is thick. My hand slips once. The timer hits 01:31.
“Cut the floor bolts,” I snap.
Kirill pulls a compact tool from his pocket, clamps it on the metal bolts, and twists. His arms strain. One bolt snaps with a harsh sound. Another. The device is still wired, but no longer fixed to the stone.
I rip the last tape from her ankles and haul her up with the chair. The bomb comes with us, still wired to the frame. Her weight slams into my chest. I lock one arm around her and lift the back legs of the chair so they clear the floor.
“Move,” I bark.
We run. Kirill backs out of the room beside me, holding some of the wires so they don’t snag. The two men behind us cover the walls with their bodies to shield us if something blows early.
Outside, Oleg shouts, “Timer?”
“Under a minute,” Kirill says between his teeth. “Forty seconds.”
“Behind the dam wall,” I say. “Now.”
We sprint across the narrow path. My legs burn. Raina’s head bumps against my shoulder. She groans.
The dam wall has a lower service walkway on one side. I head for the access stair, hauling her and the wired chair down, step by hard step. My boots slip once on ice. Oleg grabs my elbow and steadies me without a word.
We reach the lower level. Concrete rises high in front of us. The lake lies above on one side, the narrow drop on the other. This is the thickest part of the structure.
“Ilya wanted a roof,” I think. “Fine. He gets one.”
“Drop it there,” Kirill pants, pointing to a small recess in the wall. “At least it will direct the force.”
“Timer,” I say.
“Fourteen,” he answers. “Thirteen. Twelve.”
I lower the chair into the recess and cut the last tape from Raina’s wrists. Her hands fall free. I grab her under the arms and drag her backward.
“Everyone down,” I shout. “Cover heads.”
We hit the concrete. I pull her in against my chest and curl over her body. My men do the same around us, forming a half ring.
The bomb goes off.
The blast is sharp and hard. The concrete jumps under us. My ears ring. Dust fills the air. A wave of heat pushes against my back. Small fragments bite into my vest. One hits my arm. Pain lances through the muscle. I grit my teeth and hold on.
Then it is over. Bits of debris patter down. The ringing in my ears fades to a dull hiss.
I lift my head. The recess is a blackened hole now. Smoke pours from it. The chair is gone. The wall took most of the force. The lake side holds. The dam did its job.
“Everyone alive?” I say. My voice sounds strange to me.
Kirill coughs. “Yes,” he says. “All good here.”
Oleg groans as he pushes up to sit. “Arm bruised,” he says. “No holes.”
“Check each other,” I say. “Then check the upper path. Make sure nothing cracked wrong.”
They move slowly but steadily. These men are used to blasts. So am I.
I look at Raina. She lies under me, eyes closed. Her face is gray and streaked with dust. Her lashes tremble.
“Raina,” I say.
Her eyes open a crack. She looks straight at me. For a moment she seems not to know where she is. Then her gaze clears.
“You’re late,” she whispers.
Relief hits me so hard my hands shake. I slide one arm under her shoulders and pull her up against me. She clings to my vest with weak fingers.
“I told you I’d come,” I say.
She presses her face into my throat. Her body shakes once. There are no tears yet. There will be later.
“Bomb?” she asks.
“Gone,” I say. “We stole its show.”
Above us, the small speaker on the pump house crackles again. Ilya’s voice drifts down, faint but clear.
“Well done,” he says. “You still have speed. I’m almost pleased.”
I glare up at the concrete ceiling.
“Our deal stands,” he adds. “Seventy-two hours. Use them well. After that, we see who still has a house.”
The speaker goes dead.
“Can we trace where that signal came from?” Kirill calls down.
“Andrei?” I say into my throat mic.
“I’m on it,” Andrei’s voice answers. “Signal bounced through three rural relays. The last known point is a small tower near the highway. By now he’s already switched. I can mark the path but not the end.”
“He’s moving all the time,” I say.
“Like any good courier,” Kirill mutters.
I stand slowly, bringing Raina with me. Her legs wobble. I keep an arm locked around her waist.
“We’re done here,” I say. “Oleg, leave two men to watch the site until local crews come. We don’t need questions. The rest back to the cars. We go home.”
Raina’s head tips against my shoulder as we walk up the steps.
“Home?” she asks in a rough voice.
“Yes,” I say. “First to the doctor. Then to Nadia.”
Her fingers tighten at that name. She does not speak, but I feel the rush in her body.
We move through the trees in a loose group. The blue cottage stands dark behind us when we pass. I don’t look back. This place is dead to me now.
In the SUV, I sit with Raina pressed against my side in the back seat. Kirill rides up front and calls ahead. He arranges for our doctor to meet us at my city compound, not at a hospital. I don’t want Raina’s name on any more lists than it already sits on.
The ride is a blur of road and cold glass. I clean the cut on her temple with a cloth from the kit. She hisses when the liquid hits the skin.
“He hit you,” I say.
“One of his men,” she answers. “I bit him. I don’t regret it.”
I let out a short breath that might be a laugh. “Good,” I say. “Leave marks.”
Her eyes scan my face. “You knew it was Ilya,” she says quietly.
“Yes,” I say. “His name sat on one of the shell companies for this cottage. His voice finished the proof.”
She studies me for another second, then nods. “I thought he died in some small war,” she says.
“So did I,” I say. “We gave him too much credit for dying.”
We fall quiet. She leans into me. I feel every breath she takes. I sit there and count them. She is alive. That is the only fact that matters right now.
By the time we reach the compound, the doctor is waiting in a side room. We walk her in. He checks her pulse, her pupils, the bruise on her head, the burns on her arms from flying dust, the strain in her wrists and ankles.
“You’re lucky,” he says. “Mild concussion, some bruises, nothing worse. Rest, fluids, no long arguments. Try not to fall again.”
“I’ll do my best,” she says. Her voice is dry.
I sign off on whatever he asks for. Once he leaves, I sit on the edge of the bed and take her hand.
“Nadia,” she says at once.
“She is at Aunt Tanya’s,” I say. “Safe. Guarded. She carried your song straight to me.”
Her eyes soften. She squeezes my hand. “Of course she did,” she whispers.
“Rest for an hour,” I say. “Then we go to her.”
She wants to argue. I see it in the set of her jaw. Then her body remembers the blast. She nods once.
“Wake me in one hour,” she says. “If you let me sleep longer, I’ll be angry.”
“I wouldn’t risk that,” I say.
She gives me a faint smile and closes her eyes.
While she sleeps, I step into the hall with Kirill and Andrei.
We speak low. We plan the next seventy-two hours around the edge of my promise.
We reinforce the compound. We cross-check every guard who ever worked shifts with Ilya’s known men.
After an hour, I return to the room. Raina wakes as soon as I say her name.
She swings her legs off the bed. I help her stand. She moves slowly but steadily.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “Take me to my girl.”
We ride in a single car this time. Vlad drives. I sit in the back with Raina. I can feel her impatience in the way her fingers twist in the hem of her coat. The city lights move past.
At Aunt Tanya’s building, two of my guards stand outside in plain clothes. They nod when they see us. One calls up to confirm. Then we go inside.
My aunt opens the door at once. Her eyes widen when she sees Raina. Then they fill with relief.
“Thank God,” she says. “Come in, child. Your girl is going to burst.”
Nadia rushes from the small living room before we even step out of the entry hall. She throws herself at Raina with full force.
“Mama,” she cries.
Raina drops to her knees on the worn rug and catches her. They crash together. She wraps both arms around Nadia and holds on. Nadia clings to her neck and sobs into her shoulder.
I stand there and let the sight soak in. It hurts and heals at the same time.
“I’m here,” Raina keeps saying in a low voice. “I’m here. I’m here.”
Nadia pulls back enough to touch her face. “You’re hurt,” she says, seeing the bruise.
“I’m okay,” Raina says. “It’s just a bump. Papa already folded the bad house.”
“Good.” Nadia says fiercely.
I drop a hand on Nadia’s head. “You brought us to that house,” I say. “Your song was perfect.”
She smiles and wipes her face on her sleeve. “I told you I remembered,” she says. “Even the hooks.”
My aunt watches us with tired, soft eyes. “You take them home now,” she says quietly to me. “This place held her for a night. That was enough.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I say. “I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing,” she says. “You owe that child a kinder world. Start there.”