20. Elena #2
For a long moment, I don’t move, replaying every word Hannah said during our conversation.
The phone rests in my palm, as if the warmth of her voice still lingers there.
Maybe I am hoping that if I stare at it long enough, she’ll call back and tell me I imagined the fear threaded through every word.
The low hum of the jet presses in around us, engine vibration, recycled air, the faint metallic rattle beneath the floor.
Alexei sits next to me, jaw locked, his gaze fixed somewhere past my shoulder.
Clara leans against the bulkhead, arms crossed.
Ruslan hasn’t bothered to disguise the way he’s watching me, sharp and assessing, like he’s already running outcomes in his head.
“It’s a trap,” Ruslan repeats again, breaking the silence.
I lift my eyes to him. “I know.”
Clara’s head tilts. “Then why does it feel like you’re ready to jump off this plane to meet her?”
“Because Hannah wasn’t reminiscing,” I reply. My voice sounds steadier than I feel. “She was warning me.”
Alexei’s attention snaps fully to me now. “Explain.”
I draw a slow breath, replaying the call beat by beat, the pauses that lingered too long, the words that didn’t quite belong. “When she brought up the orphanage. Ms. O’Hara. The bathroom.” My fingers curl into my palm. “That wasn’t nostalgia.”
Clara frowns. “Then what was it?”
“She was telling me we weren’t alone,” I answer quietly. “Back then, the bathroom was the only place we spoke freely because the walls everywhere else had ears. Hannah was telling me that Wendell and Oksana were in the room with her. Listening to everything.”
The weight of it settles, thick and suffocating.
Alexei exhales through his nose, slow and controlled, the way he does when fury needs somewhere to go that isn’t outward. “I figured. And the lights?”
I shake my head, staring at the floor. “Same message. Stay hidden. Don’t be seen. Don’t let them know when you’re coming.” My gaze lifts again, meeting all three of them. “They want me to walk into it. Loud. Predictable. Exactly where they can reach me.”
Clara snorts softly. “They’re not wrong about one thing.”
Alexei shoots her a look. “Clara.”
“What?” She shrugs. “Wherever Elena goes, you’re not far behind.”
I glance at Alexei. He doesn’t have to deny it, because if the roles were reversed, I would do the same. A packaged deal.
“What do we do?” I ask, the words tearing free before I can stop them.
“We don’t go,” Alexei answers immediately. No hesitation. No softening. “Not knowing is not an option. That’s exactly what they want.”
My chest tightens. “If I don’t?—”
“Then they don’t get leverage,” he cuts in.
“If I don’t,” I repeat, my voice rising now, “my best friend and family will pay the price.”
Clara straightens. “And if they touch a single hair on her head,” she growls, voice cold as steel, “they know that you and Alexei will ensure there won’t be enough left of them to bury.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t help her. I won’t trade Hannah’s life for mine.”
Ruslan shifts forward in his seat. “Her life is already forfeit.”
The words hit like a slap.
I spin on him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
His expression doesn’t change. That might be the worst part.
“Oksana doesn’t bargain. She doesn’t scare people into compliance and then walk away satisfied.
She conquers.” His gray eyes flick briefly to Alexei, then back to me.
“If she wants you, your husband, or anyone tied to you, she takes them. Whether Hannah cooperates or not.”
My throat burns. “So, you’re saying there’s nothing we can do.”
For the first time, Ruslan hesitates. “There might be.”
Hope flares before I can stop it. “What?”
He leans back, one arm braced on the seat, eyes sliding to Clara. “You and I,” he offers calmly, “are roughly the same size and build as them.” He jerks his chin toward Alexei, then me. “We know how to fight. How to move quietly. How to get in and out of hostile environments.”
Clara’s eyes narrow. “You’re volunteering me without asking.”
Ruslan smiles, quick, unapologetic. “Given your résumé? I figured it was implied.”
I cut in before she can bite his head off. “Why?” My voice sharpens. “Why would you do this? Risk your life for us?”
Something dark passes through his gaze. Not anger. Something older. Sharper. “You’re not the only ones who’ve lost things to the Vasiliev’s,” he says quietly.
Clara studies him. “That almost sounded personal.”
He holds her stare, unflinching. “And if it is?”
The tension coils tighter, ready to snap.
Alexei steps in before it can. “Enough.” His voice is low, controlled. “I appreciate your intel, Agent Volkov, but we don’t know anything about you. I will not trust my wife or anyone with someone I cannot trust.”
Ruslan nods as if he expected this. “I have nothing to hide,” he replies, holding Alexei’s gaze. “Feel free to use your resources to learn more about me,” he adds, his head turning toward Clara at the last of his words.
Alexei glances at me and then Clara. Clara nods as she pulls out her phone and gets up from the table.
“How long have you been hunting Oksana?” I ask, while we wait for Clara to return.
“Long enough,” Ruslan replies evasively.
“And if this is personal, if we do decide to work with you, can you guarantee you won’t let your vendetta get in the way?” Alexei’s voice is even, but there’s an edge under it, sharp enough to draw blood.
Ruslan doesn’t flinch. He meets Alexei’s stare head-on, like he’s braced for impact and already decided he won’t move. “I’m here because we all want the same things,” he assures. “I’m an agent above all else.”
The room stills between the three of us.
They hold each other’s gaze, neither willing to blink first. I watch it unfold like a match struck too close to gasoline.
Alexei’s jaw tightens, slightly, but I see it.
I always see it. Ever since Kravino and his betrayal, he’s been different.
Slower to trust. Faster to doubt. Every detail gets turned over and over until it’s worn smooth.
And right now? He doesn’t want to trust Ruslan.
I don’t blame him. But we need him.
Because when it comes to Oksana, how she thinks, how she moves, we’re blind. And Ruslan isn’t. He’s the only one in this room who might be able to see around corners we don’t even know exist.
Clara’s footsteps cut through the tension as she strides back to the table, phone still in hand. “Thanks,” she mutters to whoever’s on the other end before ending the call. Her eyes flick to Ruslan, quick, sharp, measuring, then shift to Alexei.
“My sources say he’s clean.” She pauses as she turns fully toward Ruslan now. “A few complaints of excessive force,” she adds, almost casually. “All unfounded.” She pauses long enough to make it not casual at all. “For all intents and purposes, he’s a stellar agent.”
There’s something in her tone that sounds as thin as a hairline crack.
Ruslan lifts his hands, palms out, easy, almost disarming. “As I said,” he replies, “I’m here to help. If you want it.”
The silence stretches within the group. Clara looks at Alexei. Alexei looks at me.
I can feel the weight of it, the decision hanging there, waiting for someone to cut it loose.
Clara nods first.
Alexei sighs. “Your plan could work. But only if we’re careful.
” He turns to Ruslan, his words good enough to welcome him to the team.
“First thing, we trace the number Hannah called from. We don’t move blind.
” Then his eyes come back to me. The edge softens, for a heartbeat.
“We’ll get her back,” he says, not as reassurance, but as a vow.
I nod, even as fear claws at my ribs.
Because somewhere out there, Hannah is in their hands, and her life depends on whether I play by their rules.
And I am done letting them decide who gets swallowed by it.