25. Alexei #2
He goes limp.
I release him slowly, chest heaving, staring down at a dead man who chose silence over life.
Oksana doesn’t just plan ten steps ahead. She makes sure no one can ever tell us how far.
I searched for the man quickly and efficiently. Pockets first, then his jacket, and finally his waistband. Nothing. No papers. No insignia. My hand clasps a cheap burner phone, scuffed and anonymous, the kind designed to disappear the moment it’s used.
Another dead end.
I slide it into my pocket anyway. Dead ends still tell stories if you know where to look.
I mark the trees on my way back, small, precise notches only my people will notice, so someone can retrieve the body once this is over. Even dead bodies have stories to tell. The forest already feels heavier, like it’s holding its breath.
When I break through the brush and re-enter the site, Lance and Braydon are where I left them.
Two men lie sprawled on the ground, motionless.
They decided not to choose life either. The third stands rigid between them, arm raised, hand wrapped around the detonator like it’s the only thing tethering him to the world.
Lance glances at me. “They wouldn’t comply.”
His eyes flick briefly to the unconscious men, then back to the one still standing.
The man’s thumb hovers just above the trigger. Sweat streaks down his temple, disappearing into his collar. His eyes darted from Lance to Braydon to me, animal-fast and unfocused.
“Stay back,” he shouts, voice cracking. “I swear I’ll do it.”
I lift a hand slightly, slowly and calmly. I nod once to Lance and Braydon.
They ease their weapons down, not fully, never fully, but enough that the man’s breathing stutters, confused.
His arm begins to drop…
A sharp gasp cuts through the air.
My head snaps sideways.
Elena.
She’s there, suddenly, impossibly, Blake and Travis flanking her, their bodies angled protectively but their eyes apologetic. Her gaze isn’t on them. It’s on me.
The man’s hand jerks upward again, knuckles whitening. “Stay back!” he screams, voice pitching high, fear pouring out of him now. He stumbles a step, shoes scraping dirt.
Too scared. Too used to following orders. No plan of his own.
Without the other men to tell him what to do, he has become a wildcard.
“Elena,” I bark. “Stop. Stay back.”
She doesn’t even move.
Or flinch.
Blake winces as he moves with her, murmuring something that sounds suspiciously like an apology. I grind my teeth.
She takes another step.
“Elena,” I warn, sharper this time.
My pulse roars in my ears. My grip tightens on my weapon. One wrong movement, one slip of his thumb, and…
She steps again.
I feel control slipping, replaced by something feral and terrifying. The thought of her body crumpling, of fire and shrapnel and…
Her eyes lock onto mine.
Not fear. Not defiance. Trust. She’s asking me to trust her that she knows what she is doing.
I exhale, slow and shaking, and nod once.
Then I look at my men.
Lance and Braydon raise their brows in unison, before mirroring the motion, lowering their weapons enough to keep him focused on her instead of us.
Elena moves forward, hands lifting slowly, palms open. She forces a small, gentle, steady smile.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
The man’s eyes darted between all of us.
“No one here wants to hurt you,” she speaks softly. “We have questions.” She offers her queenly smile. “Your name seems like a pretty easy one.”
His hand shakes, but his eyes return to Elena. “Jasper.”
“Well, Jasper, I’m Queen Elena Novak?—”
“I don’t want to talk!” he snaps, voice breaking on the last word.
I angle myself closer behind her, close enough that if he detonates, my body takes the brunt of it. The calculation is automatic. Instinctual.
She doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t even flinch at the venom in his words.
“If you wanted to die,” she responds calmly, “you’d already be on the ground like them.”
His eyes flick to his motionless friends. His mouth trembles. He wipes it with the back of his hand, leaving a smear of dirt and sweat.
“I… I have a mission,” he stammers. “I have to finish it. If I don’t?—”
She steps closer.
My jaw tightens as I follow, matching her stride.
“Death is failure,” she guesses quietly. “And I don’t think you want to fail like they did.”
His breath hitch-sobs. His shoulders shake.
I see it then, clear as day.
This one isn’t like the others in the group.
He isn’t hardened. He isn’t devout. He’s desperate.
“You were forced into this,” I say, keeping my voice low, grounded.
He breaks. A sob rips out of him as his head bobs violently. “I owed money. Too much. I couldn’t pay. They took my mom. They said they’d… they’ll…”
Elena doesn’t hesitate. “I can help you,” she offers. “Help you and save your mother.”
He shakes his head, tears flying. “Either I bring back what they want, or I die. If I don’t bring anything, they’ll kill her.”
“We can fake your death,” Elena offers quickly. “You help us, and we help you.”
I hate it. The last thing this man deserves is any sort of help. Every instinct screams against it. He crossed our borders. Threatened our people. Brought a bomb into the heart of my kingdom.
But this isn’t a battlefield anymore.
This is a human being unraveling in front of us.
“I can’t,” Jasper whispers.
She steps closer again, close enough now that my body is a shield behind her. Her voice softens, pleading but unwavering.
“You can,” she encourages. “The fear you feel for your mother, I feel it too. You could hurt my people. My husband.” She gestures slightly, encompassing all of us.
“It doesn’t have to end this way. I know you don’t want this.
You don’t have to do this. I am asking you to be brave.
” She raises her hand, fingers curling gently. “Give me the trigger.”
Jasper stares at her. Really looks at her. His hand trembles violently as he lifts it.
“That’s it,” she murmurs, smiling at him. “You’re doing it.”
He sniffles once, then places the device into her palm.
The second it leaves his hand, I move.
I pluck it from her grasp, disable it in one smooth motion, and step aside as Lance and Braydon surge forward, securing the man and hauling him away.
The danger drains out of the air all at once.
I turn back to Elena, and she slams into me.
Her arms wrap around my waist, her cheek pressing hard against my chest. My own arms lock around her without thought, crushing her to me as the last of the fear finally loosens its grip on my heart.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “As soon as the mention of an explosive came over the comm, Travis said something to Blake when they were trying to get me in the car. I couldn’t go. I had to know you were okay.”
I hold her tighter, kiss the top of her head. “I’m fine,” I say roughly. “But you can’t ever do that to me again.”
She pulls back enough to look up at me. “That’s not fair. You do it to me all the time.”
I brush hair from her face, thumb lingering at her cheek. “Because it’s my job. It’s what I’m trained for. And I promised I’d come back to you. I don’t break promises.” I kiss her forehead, softer now. “I’m proud of you. You got through to him.”
She lets out a small laugh. “The second I saw three terrifying agents charging him, I knew that wouldn’t work. Tactical choice.”
I shake my head, pulling her back into me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Her voice is muffled against my chest. “Do you think he’ll talk?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But we’ll do everything we can.”
She hesitates, then says quietly, “I promised we’d help him.”
I can’t stop the smile that tugs at my mouth. “My queen,” I murmur. “Ever forgiving. Ever lenient.”
She smiles back at me. “Second chances are why I’m queen in the first place.”
A throat clears behind us.
We turn to find Lance standing there, posture relaxed for the first time since this began.
“Everything’s secure,” he says. “We’re ready to take you back.”