I look at Nadia’s small feed in the corner of the screen again. She has rolled onto her side. Her hand rests on the pillow. Anastasia’s chin is on her chest. The guard at the door shifts his weight, then stills.
“I’ll work with you,” I say quietly. “I’ll help you build what you want. I’ll give you what I know about his routes and his men.”
“That’s a good start,” he replies. “We can begin as soon as you are ready to focus.”
“But first,” I say, and my voice tightens. “I want something from you.”
“Of course you do,” he says. “Say it.”
“I want to see them,” I say. “One more time, at least. On this screen. I want to speak to my daughter while she is awake. I want to look at him and know he is still breathing. You want me to work? Then let me clear that weight from my chest.”
He is silent again. I feel my jaw clench. I make myself loosen it.
“You already use them as leverage,” I say. “You already watch them. There is no harm in letting me watch for a few minutes too. You can stay on the line. You can listen to every word. You can cut the call when you wish. You still hold the knife. Just give me this.”
“You think seeing them will make you more useful to me?” he says.
“Yes,” I answer. “Right now, my thoughts keep circling the same fear. I need to see her eyes open. I need to hear his voice. After that, I can breathe. After that, I can do more than imagine worst cases. That’s good for you.”
He exhales slowly through the speaker.
“You’ll cry,” he says.
“Probably,” I say. “You can enjoy that if you want. It does not change the work I can do after.”
He lets out a low sound that might be a laugh.
“You’re very clear,” he says. “I appreciate that.”
“Is that a yes?” I ask.
“It’s a negotiation,” he says. “You say you’ll work with me. You haven’t shown it yet.”
“I’m here,” I say. “I’m talking. I’m not screaming his name or yours. I’m not breaking your machine. I said I would help you. I haven’t taken it back. Let me see them and you’ll have my first move.”
“You’ll give me something real,” he says. “Not useless details. Not stories I already know.”
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll give you the names of three men he still trusts with outer routes who already carry doubts. I’ll tell you which of them is easiest to move.”
He thinks about that. I can feel the shift.
“Fine,” he says. “You tell me now.”
I give him three names. I do not choose at random. I choose men already on the line, men whose loyalty is cracked, men whose tilt might break this whole war whether I stand still or move. If I hold them back, he’ll get them another way. This at least buys me something.
I don’t let myself think about how Sergei will look at me when he learns I said those names out loud.
When I finish, he types something.
“You’re not lying,” he says. “Your tone changes when you lie. This time, it did not.”
I don’t ask how he can hear that through a cheap microphone. I don’t want to know how many hours of my voice he has collected.
“So,” I say. “Do I get my call?”
“Yes,” he says. “You get your call.”
The small window with Nadia closes for a moment. The main screen goes dark again, then the image shifts. A new feed opens. For a second there is only static and a crooked angle, then the scene clears.
