Viktor speaks first. “The territories. The men loyal to your father. When they learn?—”
“They will learn what I choose to tell them,” I say. “The Pakhan has retired. His son has assumed leadership. Anyone who objects is welcome to take their concerns to Alexei.”
I turn my head toward Morozov.
“Assuming,” I add, “that Alexei understands where his loyalty now lies.”
Alexei holds my gaze. Then inclines his head.
“The previous methods were becoming inefficient,” he says. “Fresh leadership may prove... beneficial.”
It isn’t loyalty. It’s survival. But it is enough.
I turn to one of the Mechanics. “The Volgograd facility. Secure line.”
A satellite phone appears in my hand. I dial the emergency command line.
It rings twice.
“This is Ivan Baranov,” I say. “Authorization codes will follow.”
I input the override sequence—my father’s master key.
“Codes received and verified,” the voice says. “Orders?”
“The liquidation order for Subject 43 is rescinded,” I say. “Effective immediately. The asset is to be prepared for transport. A retrieval team arrives within twelve hours. He is to be treated with respect. Any harm that comes to him will be repaid tenfold.”
Another beat. “Understood. Anything else?”
“Yes.” My eyes sweep the dining room. “Tell him I’m coming. Tell him the wait is over.”
I end the call.
“Gentlemen,” I say, voice level. “We have new business.”
I begin outlining the reorganization. Some listen with understanding. Others with fear.
I do not care.
I care only that they obey.
Because in twelve hours, I will be on a plane to Russia. In twelve hours, I will walk into the facility where Maksim has spent three months waiting.
In twelve hours, I will bring him home.
25
MAKSIM
The wind cutsthrough my jacket like a blade honed on ice.
I have been standing on this tarmac for forty-seven minutes, watching the grey sky for any sign of an approaching aircraft. The facility commander told me a jet was coming. He told me that orders had arrived from Chicago, that the liquidation had been rescinded, that I was to be prepared for transport.
He did not tell me who was coming. He did not need to.
The other guards keep their distance. They have been keeping their distance since the word spread through the facility—Subject 43 is being retrieved. Not transferred. Not reassigned.Retrieved.Like something valuable that was temporarily misplaced and is now being reclaimed by an owner who does not forgive theft.
I do not know what happened in Chicago. I do not know how Ivan found the leverage to stop the order that would have ended my life. I only know that twelve hours ago, I was preparing to die in a concrete room.
