21. Aj
“The grumpy bastard is even grumpier today,” Savva mutters, dropping a crate of supplies beside me as he loads the truck.
Viktor lets out a short laugh and says something in Russian.
“Smoke?”
I glance up. Viktor is holding a cigarette out to me. I take it, and he steps in close enough to light it.
“Don’t tell the volk it came from me,” he says with a snort. “I like having my head attached.”
A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth.
He drops down beside me on the step. “You look tired. Not sleeping?”
I take a drag and blow the smoke out slowly.
“I don’t sleep well.”
That’s putting it lightly.
Most nights, I just lie there with my eyes closed, trapped in that awful space between waking and dreaming, my mind racing too fast to let me rest.
Viktor nods like he understands.
We sit in silence for a moment, the cold morning air biting through my coat. The sun is barely cresting over the mountains, pale and weak behind thick gray clouds that look ready to dump more snow on us at any second.
“Shit,” Viktor mutters suddenly before ducking off to the side of the truck.
I turn and see why.
Wolff is coming toward us.
His eyes lock on me immediately, face set in its usual scowl.
He looks worse than yesterday—dark circles under his eyes, his body wound tight with tension.
“Smoking?” he questions, anger edging his tone.
I flick ash into the snow and take another drag, lifting an eyebrow.
“You going to tell me not to?”
“Who gave it to you?”
I shrug. “I found it.”
He steps closer, and the space between us evaporates. I can smell him—cold air, leather, that dark, earthy scent that always clings to his skin.
I hate that I notice it.
He bends down until his mouth is near my ear.
“You’re a shitty liar, solnyshko. So when I figure out which one of these bastards gave it to you—and I will—I’ll make sure he regrets it.”
Plucking the cigarette from my fingers, he crushes it with his boot before climbing into the driver’s seat without another glance.
Asshole.
Savva whistles, and the others start moving again, hauling the last crates into place. We’re on the road again, and snow has already started falling. At this point, it feels like we’re never getting out of this damn country.
My grip on the wheel is white knuckled as we close in on the safehouse.
The snow is coming down harder now, swallowing the road in a white haze. I fucking hate this stretch of Russia. Hate how fast the weather turns roads into graves. Hate how every mile out here strips away options until there’s only one left—and if that one fails, you die.
My body feels heavy. My mind is foggy. I’ve pushed through worse, but this is wearing me down in ways I can’t afford. If I don’t get real sleep soon, I’m going to start seeing shit that isn’t there.
I glance in the rear-view.
AJ is curled up in the corner, knees pulled tight to her chest, head against the glass. I can’t—
A faint buzz cuts through the noise in my head. Not a noise I should be hearing.
My instincts scream before my brain catches up.
I slam the brakes. The truck fishtails on the ice as I yank my Glock free and twist in my seat.
One round.
Viktor’s skull erupts against the windshield.
AJ’s scream pierces the air, blood and brains spraying across her, the cab. Everyone. Savva jerks for the gun in his lap, but my left arm slams down on his wrist, pinning it while I fire again with my right.
Niko. Bang.
Paulo. Bang.
Georgi takes three—two to the chest, one to the head—because the bastard was reaching.
The car becomes hell in seconds.
Blood sheets across the windows. Bodies collapse into each other. AJ is shrieking now, scrambling backward, slipping in blood as she claws at the rear door.
“WOLFF! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! You killed Viktor! You killed all of them!”
I’ve got my full weight on Savva—knees pinning him to the seat, one arm slammed across his chest, the other jamming the barrel of my gun between his eyes.
“How much? How fucking much?”
His breathing is ragged. Blood runs from his mouth. I fire a shot into the window beside his head. Glass shatters.
“Twenty million.”
The words land like acid.
“Think about it, K9. We split it. You don’t even need the Sovereign with that kind of money. This girl…she’s nothing to you.” His mouth twists into a bloody smile. “Why die for a girl you don’t give a shit about?”
I pull the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
His body slumps.
AJ is still screaming as I reach over the corpses, dig into Viktor’s coat, and rip out the buzzing phone.
“Wolff! What the fuck?! What the fuck is happening?!”
One unread message glows on screen
Move in on the target.
My rage turns cold.
“Savva sold us out. He was feeding Akim our location every stop,” I snap, scrolling through the messages. I shove the phone toward her.
Her face drains white.
“Viktor was grooming you, AJ. How the fuck did you not see it?” I shove bodies aside and lunge into the back, dragging a duffel toward me. Weapons. Ammo. Med kit. My fingers tear through straps—
Then the road ahead explodes in light.
Headlights.
Too many.
My stomach drops.
Ambush.
“AJ— DOWN!”
Gunfire detonates around us. The windshield bursts inward. Bullets hammer the truck in violent bursts, shredding metal, glass, corpses.
The truck jerks sideways as it’s rammed, and we start to roll.
Metal screams.
Glass explodes.
My shoulder slams into the frame. My skull cracks against steel. The world flips—roof, road, sky, blood, snow—then darkness.