‘I know the basics,’ Roman says.‘You should give me a gun.’
‘Absolutelynot,’ Lachlan insists while mentally acknowledging he might have to at some point.Roman Sorrenko is nineteen.Worst comes to worst, he’ll arm the kid if it means keeping the others safe.‘Let’s move out.’
They move through the darkness, leaving the dead bodyguard behind.Lachlan glances back once, confirming the children are still keeping formation behind him.They make it up one floor, stopping at each hallway long enough for Lachlan to clear it before continuing on.Ahead, distant white flashlight beams cut rapidly through the dark.Still far enough away.Lachlan ushers the kids past before anyone spots them.
They’re currently in the furthest quadrant of the West Wing, moving east, but the centre is by far the most dangerous.Twice along the way, Lachlan listens to the secret radio, finds the code they’re using borderline indecipherable.He could crack it given time, thefairytale wordsmixed with military jargon, but his focus is needed elsewhere.
He pauses when they find another little pocket of safety, listens hard, eyes closed.‘Roman,’ he whispers, beckoning the boy close.‘Listen for me, tell me if anything stands out.’
‘I speak it too,’ Jules mutters.
‘Not like I do,’ Roman rightly points out, listening with his head cocked.‘What am I looking for?’
‘Repeat words of value.’
‘They keep sayingLazorevy.’
‘I’ve never heard that before.’
‘It is old way of sayingLazurny.’
‘Azure?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s the difference?’
‘This word means… heaven, royalty, the blue of Gods.’
Lachlan looks at Jules.
‘Anything else?’
‘They are surrounding the East Wing.’
‘They’rewhat?’Jules blurts out.‘Mimi… they—’
‘Shh, stay quiet.They won’t get inside.We have to move.’
Avoiding the centre of the Estate proves harder than it should be.Guests scattered from the ballroom are flooding the corridors in blind panic, running through the dark like disturbed ants.Lachlan keeps the kids low, quiet and pressed into shadow whenever trouble comes close.
They pause halfway along the outer rung of the North Wing.Vasily leans towards Roman and whispers, ‘You think father is dead?’
‘No,’ Roman answers immediately, sounds certain.
The absence of contact is what starts bothering Lachlan most.
No soldiers.No armed intruders.He’s seen flashlight beams moving through the dark but hasn’t encountered a single operative directly.
It likely means they’re massing exactly where he’s headed.
‘Are you sure this is smartest plan?’Roman asks Lachlan when they pause again to radio check.‘I know the little girl is—’
‘Quiet,’ Lachlan tells him, eyes closed, listening to the radio.
Bits and pieces of broken code,set up, surrounded, confirmed, unbreakable.
TheAzure.
