“Show me,” I say.
He flips the file and slides a sheet toward me.
The name on the line is one I have not seen in years. It sits on the paper, clear and calm. My vision sharpens around it.
He was a boy from my old block. From the same gray buildings. He slept two bunks down in the children's home when my mother could not keep me for a year. I gave him his first real jacket when we were fifteen. I pulled him into my crew when I started rising. He ran numbers, carried messages, watched doors. He wanted more. He always wanted more. The lasttime we spoke, he asked for a bigger cut. I shut him down. He disappeared soon after. I heard later that he took some of my data, moved small sums, sold small secrets. Nothing large enough to crush me, but enough to stain his name.
I remember the security report from that time. “He’s not loyal,” it said. “But he is clever and very greedy. He feels the world owes him what you built.”
I thought he was dead now. Or off in some minor crew. The Courier uses a different name. A mask. But this trail is not small.
“Save this,” I say quietly. “Don’t say his name outside this room.”
Andrei nods and tucks the paper under the other files.
“Could be anyone,” Kirill says. “Shells can use stolen names.”
“It could,” I say. “It feels wrong in my bones that it is a chance.”
I stand.
“We move in one hour,” I say. “Kirill, you build the team for the cottage run. Twelve men total. Two cars. No convoy. No heavy weapons that make noise on the road. We go in as hunters, not as an army. Vlad stays here on house defense. Andrei stays in control.”
“Yes,” Kirill says.
He leaves to make the calls.
20
SERGEI
Next, I go to Nadia’s room.
The door is open. Fresh clothes lie on the bed. A small backpack sits on the chair, half full. Nadia stands by the window with her bear. Anastasia kneels by the open drawer, folding socks.
Nadia runs to me as soon as she sees me.
“Are we going now?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say. “We’re going to Aunt Tanya.”
She smiles for the first time since the call. “Can I bring the bear?” she asks.
“The bear comes,” I say. “He is part of the contract.”
She laughs softly. The sound eases something tight in my chest.
Anastasia stands.
“I packed two dresses, warm pants, shirts, socks, underwear, pajamas,” she says. “Her toothbrush, brush, hair ties. No toys except the bear. I followed your list.”
I check the bag. It is simple, no extra objects tucked in.
“Good,” I say. “Thank you.”
Her shoulders drop a little with relief.
“Will I come too?” she asks. “To help.”
