"Fall back!" I shout, but it's too late. They've cut off our exit routes, and now we're trapped in a kill zone with nowhere to go but forward.
So we go forward.
I lead the push toward the back of the warehouse where our intelligence said they were likely holding Yuri. There’s more gunfire, more blood. I take a round in the shoulder that spins me around, but I keep moving. Stopping means dying, and I have no intention of dying today.
In the back of my head, I think that I can’t die.
If I do, no one will protect Liesl. What will happen to her will be horrible.
I’m all that stands between her, and that.
We fight our way through room after room, leaving bodies behind us, and finally we reach the door that should lead to Yuri.
I kick it open, weapon raised, and I see him.
Yuri is still tied to the chair, but he's not moving. His head hangs forward at an angle that tells me everything I need to know before I even check for a pulse. They killed him—probably as soon as we attacked. This whole thing was a trap designed to draw me out, to make me commit resources to a rescue that was already doomed.
"Pakhan, we need to go!" Viktor is pulling at my arm, and I can hear more of Volkov's men closing in. "He's gone. We need to leave now!”
We fight our way back out, leaving more blood and bodies in our wake. By the time we make it back to the vehicles, I've lost four men and Yuri is still dead. The whole operation was a catastrophic failure that accomplished nothing except proving that sentiment makes me vulnerable.
It feels worse, somehow, that we were forced to leave Yuri’s body behind. Not even that was accomplished. He’ll be dumped in the river or burned, with no one to say anything or give him a proper burial. His family won’t get a body.
The drive back to the compound is silent. No one speaks. No one even looks at each other. I made the wrong choice. My decision got good men killed. Volkov just demonstrated he can manipulate me through hostages and there's nothing I can do about it.
I'm covered in blood by the time we arrive. Some of it is mine from the shoulder wound, most of it is from other people. It'ssoaked through my shirt, dried and crusting on my hands. I can smell it mixing with gunpowder and sweat.
My men disperse quickly, heading to their quarters or to where they can go and get patched up, and I'm left standing in the entrance hall alone. I just stand there, staring at my blood-covered hands, and feel the weight of failure settle over me like a shroud.
"Andrei?"
The voice is soft and hesitant, and I look up to find Liesl standing at the top of the stairs. She's in pajamas—soft shorts that show off her long legs and an oversized shirt—and her hair is loose around her shoulders. She must have heard us come in.
Her eyes widen when she sees the blood. "Oh my god. Are you?—"
"I'm fine," I say sharply.
"You're covered in blood."
"It’s not all mine."
She comes down the stairs slowly, carefully, like she's approaching something dangerous. Which is smart, because right now I feel dangerous. I feel like the kind of violence that's been simmering under my skin for hours might break free if anyone pushes too hard.
"What happened?" she asks quietly.
"Yuri is dead." The words come out flat and emotionless. "The extraction failed. I lost four men. And Volkov just proved that he can manipulate me through hostages."
I’m not sure what made me say all that… what made me tell her anything at all. None of it is any of her business. But I see her processing it, and I see the moment that she realizes the gravity of what’s happened.
"I'm sorry," she says. There's genuine grief in her voice. For a man she never met, maybe, or for the weight I'm carrying. For all of it, I think, as I look at her face and then quickly look away.
"Don't be. It was my decision. My consequences."
"Still." She moves closer. I should tell her to stop. I should not let her see me like this—covered in blood and failure, barely holding onto control. But I don't. I just stand there and let her approach. "I'm sorry you lost people tonight."
The genuine compassion in her voice cracks something in my chest. I close my eyes briefly, trying to hold onto the control that's been slipping all night.
"You should go back to your room," I say quietly. And then I push past her, heading up the stairs.
