Static. Then Matvey’s voice—calm but urgent—breaks through. “Vik? Viktor? You good? C’mon, man…”
I focus on the sound of his voice and not the throbbing pain in my side. Trying to block it all out and focus. It’s harder to do now. “I’mhit. He’s gone. Secure the area… Do not engage unless he comes back. I want to be the one…to kill him.”
“Copy.”
I close my eyes for a second, biting down hard as pain spikes again. My hands shake. My ribs scream. My side is slick and warm. And I can feel the stickiness coating my fingers as I press harder.
But none of it matters.
He fucking got away.
I let him get away.Fuck!
I press harder on the wound, teeth grinding as the pressure sends fire lancing through my side. The world around me blurs in and out. The scent of blood and dust chokes the air. Every breath feels wrong. Too shallow. Too sharp.
I’ve been shot before. While I was in the special forces and also while I’ve been working with Grigory and the others. I remember the agony of being shot in the ribs during an extraction in Ukraine and another time in the knee during a hostage retrieval that went sideways.
But this?
This is different.
Because I’m not focusing on the mission. Or the facts. Or the neat little boxes to distract myself. I’m thinking abouther.
Avelina’s voice drifts into my head. Soft and steady. The memory of her hands on my chest when she thought I was asleep. The way her body fits into mine. The warmth in her sunshine smile. The way her fingers trace my tattoos like they’re something more than just skin and ink.
I failed her.
The sound of boots stomps toward me.
Movement in the corner of my eye gets my attention.
Nikolai’s shadow rounds the corner first, his rifle sweeping the lot, jaw clenching tight when he spots me.
“Shit.” He drops down, already checking the entry and applying pressure. “Gotta be the dramatic one, huh?”
“I wanted a nap,” I grunt.
He snorts, but it’s a tight sound. He’s worried. “I’ll kill him…and you too if you fucking die on us,” he mutters as Matvey jogs up behind him with a medical bag.
“No,” I snap, my voice hoarse but firm. “He’s mine.”
“Yeah, you’re really gonna show him by bleeding out.”
Matvey is already working, injecting me with a pain suppressant and gauze-packing the wound. His fingers are efficient, like he’s working on a keyboard. His expression is emotionless, but I see the twitch in his brow.
“I should’ve got him,” I grit out.
“You’ll get your chance,” Matvey says. “Just not tonight.”
Grigory’s voice crackles through the comms. “Evac two minutes out. Status?”
“Vik’s hit. We’ve got him, but Gennady and the Albanian boss got away.”
There’s silence for a few seconds. “Hold tight.”
I don’t know if I’ve simply closed my eyes or passed out, but the squeal of tires hits my ears. I want to open my eyes. But I can’t. They’re heavy. And everything is getting cold.
“Fuck,” I hear Matvey say before he begs me to open my eyes.
