Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
She doesn’t look back, doesn’t even think about her carelessness that almost killed her just now.
Instead, she runs inside and falls to the ground, in the middle of all the blood, not caring that her clothes are soaked with it.
“Nadia…Nicholas…wake up…” Her voice shakes, and so do her hands as she grabs the nurse’s wrist. “No…no…”
I pull the free mask from her hand and strap it around my face, then suck in a generous inhale. “They’re dead. We need to go.”
Her head jerks up in my direction, and I could swear she’s about to point her rifle at me. “That’s it? They’re dead and we need to go? What type…what type of an unfeeling monster are you? These people saved our lives when they didn’t have to and they’re now dead because of it. They’re dead, Kirill!”
“If you don’t move, you’ll also be dead, and all their efforts will be for nothing. Get up. Now.”
“No.” She shakes her head, voice filled with a brittleness I’ve never heard before.
It’s not so much weakness as it is rage against that weakness, mixed with a hint of self-destruction.
“They’re…they’re like this because of us. Those men, they’re here for us, not them, and we…we…”
I grab her by her good arm and haul her to me so fast and hard that she’s stunned into silence. She crashes against my chest, and I shake her for good measure. “Listen to me and listen good, Sasha. If we don’t leave right now, we might be ambushed. There’s no telling how many men were on this mission or if they have backup. We need to leave this town before we get anyone else killed. So either you follow me, or I’ll knock you out and take you by force.”
Through the glass binoculars of the mask, I can see the tears clinging to her eyes and the red-hot anger flaring to the surface.
But I don’t wait for her. I don’t give her another chance, and I certainly do not offer her pity.
I release her with a shove and turn around to leave. At first, I think she’s chosen to stay, but when I glance back, she places a blanket over the old couple’s bodies and clasps her hands together in what seems like a prayer.
The moment I’m out of the house, I remove my mask and throw it down. That’s when Sasha catches up to me.
Her shoulders are drooped, and her rifle hangs loosely around her chest, lifeless, almost as if it’s lost purpose.
She robotically removes her mask, showing a pale face, red eyes, and tear marks streaking down her cheeks.
I start to reach a hand out for her, but stop midway. Not only do I have no clue how to comfort people, but even if I did, it’d serve no purpose in this situation.
Sasha is a soldier and she needs to act the part before she gets us into deeper shit.
Our priority is to get the fuck out of here before we’re ambushed again.
Wordlessly, I turn around and start the careful but strategic retreat into the woods. Sasha follows behind, her movements robotic but focused. She doesn’t waver or trip, but she’s also not paying enough attention to her surroundings.
Once we’re far enough from the village, I break into a jog, and she follows suit. I keep a steady pace to avoid her feeling any discomfort from her injury.
We continue running for two hours straight until we get to the pickup point—a cottage in the mountains that’s owned by Viktor’s family. We could’ve set the meeting at one of the military safe houses, but I’ve completely lost faith in the institution after the planned setup during the mission.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it was a setup, and that fucking cost me the men I grew up with. Men who were supposed to be under my protection.
I control my breathing as I find the key under the flowerpot and push the old door open.
“We’ll stay here for a few hours until Viktor comes to get us.”
Sasha nods and strides inside, her movements mechanical. Her expression looks dissociated from reality.
She remains standing in the middle of the shabby cottage with old furniture and threadbare rugs for one second.
Two.
Ten.
Thirty.
In fact, she doesn’t move for a whole minute before her shoulders shake and she grabs her rifle with both hands.
Then, all of a sudden, she turns around and starts heading toward the door.
I step in front of her, effectively making her come to a halt. That’s when I get a close look at her face. It’s hard and tinted red, even though her lips are turning blue from the cold.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask in a collected, completely detached tone.
“I’m going back to bury Nadia and Nicholas, and if I’m ambushed, I’ll kill every last one of those fuckers. I’ll spill their blood and crush their hearts.”