The decision is made. The betrayal is complete.
I did it before I even thought to hesitate. Training reflex, faster than conscience.
I return my attention to the man in the chair. His temperature has not yet responded. I continue the cooling efforts, wiping his face, his neck. His rambling has subsided into incoherent mumbling.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
The words emerge without authorization. I do not know who I am apologizing to. Him, for transmitting intelligence he did not consciously provide. Or myself.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “But you are still my mission.”
He does not hear me.
I stay through the night. I monitor the fever, adjust the cooling measures. By dawn, the crisis has passed. By noon, he is conscious again, weak but lucid.
“You stayed,” he says. His voice is rough.
“Your condition required monitoring.”
“You stayed all night.”
“Yes.”
He’s silent for a moment. His eyes are clear now. I see the moment he begins to remember.
“I was talking,” he says slowly. “I remember... I couldn’t stop talking. What did I say?”
I could lie. Protocol dictates deception.
But I cannot lie to him. Not about this.
“Severomorsk,” I say. “TheKrovavaya Ryba. A cellar beneath the processing floor.”
His face goes white.
“I transmitted the coordinates to Ivan approximately seven hours ago,” I continue. My voice is level. “Based on response times, a team would have reached the location two hours ago. The asset is likely cleared.”
“Cleared.” He repeats the word.
“The safe house has been neutralized. Any personnel present would have been captured or eliminated.”
His face transforms. Confusion. Understanding. Horror.
“I didn’t—” His voice breaks. “I was unconscious. I didn’t choose to tell you that.”
“You were in a febrile state. You bear no conscious responsibility.”
The clinical framing does nothing.
“My people were in that safe house. Soldiers who have protected my family for decades. Men I grew up with.” His voice is rising. “You sent a kill team to a location I revealed while I was dying of a fever you caused.”
I do not deny this.
“You were treating me. You were wiping my face and making me better and the whole time you were recording what I said in my sleep.” Tears form in his eyes. “You used my sickness to betray me.”
“I used the intelligence you provided to complete my assigned mission.”
“Fuck your mission.” The words explode from him. “Fuck Ivan and fuck the Baranovs and fuck you.”
