We hear him curse under his breath. “Stupid,” he mutters. “Too close. Too fast. He was faster than I thought.”
His voice comes through the floorboards. I feel my jaw tighten.
Kirill meets my eyes. He’s ready.
I raise two fingers, then point up.
We move.
The man on the stairs climbs, silent and steady. He eases the door crack open a few inches. Ilya’s back is to it. He stands by the table, leaning over the laptop he left before. A small case sits open beside him. Wires and drives glint inside.
The guard pulls back and whispers, “He’s alone. Hardware on the table. Pistol at his back, under the coat. No visible second weapon.”
“Wait,” I murmur.
Ilya moves again. He crosses to the bed. The old blanket’s still there. He kicks it once with his boot, like he’s annoyed at the memory of Raina in it. Then he reaches for the shelf where the bomb box sat the last time.
He stops.
The box is gone. We took it when we swept the place.
He goes still. I can almost hear his brain adjust.
After a second he gives a small laugh. “You got smarter,” he says to the room. “Good. I was bored.”
He goes back to the table and pulls a different device from his case. It’s small and square, with two lights dark on the front. He sets it down, then pulls his phone from his pocket.
That’s enough.
“Go,” I say.
The man at the top of the stairs kicks the door fully open and steps out, rifle raised. “Hands up,” he barks. “Now.”
Ilya spins, eyes wide. For a second he reaches for his waistband. Then he sees the number of guns pointed at him as the rest of us come up. He freezes, hands lifting.
I step out last, gun steady. Our eyes meet.
He smiles, slow. “Seryozha,” he says. “You finally made it in time for once.”
I keep walking until I’m close enough to see the lines around his mouth, the old scar on his jaw from a bottle in a bar fight when we were twenty. “Drop the gun,” I say.
He pulls it from his waistband with two fingers and sets it on the table. Kirill steps in and kicks it away, then takes three more steps and scoops the bag with the hardware.
Raina’s voice crackles in my ear. “Status?”
“We have him,” I say. “He’s standing.”
“Copy,” she says. I can hear the strain in her voice. She wants eyes in here. She wants to see the man who took her. She’ll get that later.
Ilya looks around, calm now that the first shock has passed. “You brought Raina?” he asks. “She watching from the trees?”
“Shut up,” Kirill snaps.
Ilya doesn’t. He never did know when to stop.
“I thought you’d come alone,” he says. “You used to like that. Just you and the problem. No witnesses.”
“Times changed,” I say. “I learned to keep people where I can see them.”
