"Understood."
"And Aleh, Fee is not to be harmed. Not physically, not emotionally. If she suffers in any way under your watch, what happened to you in that prison will seem like a vacation."
"Ms. Quinn will be safe. Anything else, sir? I should leave, otherwise Lorenzo will be pissed," he says.
"Go on. I'll see you soon." Aleh leaves, and I hear the apartment door closing as he exits. On the screens, I see him getting in the elevator.
With one piece moving into position, I return to monitoring the other, their precious shipment. Now re-routed, lost in the system, nowhere to be found. The Quinns and Basovs will be scrambling to locate their missing cargo while I focus on what truly matters.
As the shipment disappears from tracking systems, I can't help but think Vadim would have appreciated the elegance of this plan. He should be here, sitting beside me, planning operations, not rotting in the ground because of Anton.
I open my desk drawer and remove the titanium case containing my combat preparations. Inside lies an array of pharmaceuticals, each with a specific purpose. Not the crude cocktails street fighters use, but precision instruments designed for enhanced performance, block pain, and delay blood loss.
In the bathroom, I remove my shirt and lay out the black tactical shirt I'll wear for the next phase. I examine myself in the mirror. Combat scars mark my transformation, knife wounds from specialized training in Belarus, bullet grazes from live-fire exercises in Kazakhstan, burns from endurance testing. Each mark represents lessons learned, skills acquired, all to ensure Anton doesn't walk away from our reunion.
I've been a ghost who walks in daylight, a predator who's forged many personas and disguises, an executive in one city,an ordinary man in another. This operation is different. While Aleh has been running the physical disguise as Dr. Esposito, I've disguised myself in the digital world, becoming Fee's trusted online friend. And I've ensured they'll trust a face that belongs to a corpse.
I inject myself in the shoulder. The shot burns, and the metallic tang hits the back of my throat. When I look in the mirror, my pupils dilate slightly. My heart rate increases to optimal performance levels without the scattered focus of natural adrenaline.
The compound courses through my veins, bringing with it not just heightened focus but memories of why I'm here. Mother used to look into my eyes and say that I reminded her of Vadim too much. I got her the best doctors, but nobody can treat a broken heart, which is what finally killed her.
I check the time: 11:43 AM. I need to leave for the next phase in less than two hours.
For Anton, I'll be the ghost from his past, the brother of the man he killed, the son of the woman who died from grief.
I was barely eighteen when I lost everything. I remember the night clearly. I was waiting for Vadim to return from the job I told him not to finish. He was a determined man. Instead, police came to our door with news that shattered our world. My mother collapsed. I held her as she wailed into the night.
We fled within hours. I became the man of the house overnight while she withered before my eyes. No more college plans. No more normal teenage bullshit. Just survival and vengeance.
A notification dings from my laptop, and I feel the excitement that she brings into my life. Fee is online. I run to the office like a fucking teenager who's had too many energy drinks. I rush over to my laptop.
She's using her phone, trying to mask her location.
I track her signal jumping between cell towers, the digital breadcrumbs she doesn't realize she's leaving. She's good, really good, but I can still find her.
I'll teach her how to hide in plain sight. How to become anyone, anywhere, anytime—just like me.
I wait patiently, but it's killing me. I've deviated from my plans for her. This is new to me, something I've never done.
Fee inspires improvisation in me. She pushes me to step out, beyond my firm plans. She pushes me into something more primal, more creative.
She's made me better already. I wonder what else she'll bring out in me when I finally have her in my bed, when she realizes who I really am.
I don't want to scare her. I want to please her, to make her feel a pleasure she's never felt before. She might fight at first, but eventually, she'll beg for me.
A message appears:
Fee:Did you take the calculus test yet?
I consider my response. This is a normal conversation topic between college friends. I type:
Phoenix:I'll take it later. You?
Fee:Yes, maybe later.
Phoenix:Oh!
Fee:Was hoping you took it. Wanted to know how long it took you.
