Page 96 of Then We Shatter

They’re in for a nasty surprise, as is everyone else in the chamber except for Sasha, who’s responsible for getting us this far. She’s ensured that the security cameras are being fed a loop that hides the evidence of our rampage. The last of the guards are on gate duty and we don’t want them getting curious.

Katarina reloads her two handguns and unscrews the silencers. She’s about to take on the world, but first… I lick my thumb and wipe away the smudge of blood on her cheek. “Ready to knock ‘em dead, Kitty?”

“I’ve been ready my entire life.”

I use the Glock’s grip to rap on the door, then swing it open. “After you.”

Katarina steps past me, head held high. “Gentleman, what a lovely welcoming committee.”

The council chamber smells of aged wood oiled with bloated egos and slippery deals. There are portraits on the walls, including one of Vasili, and at the far end of the room is a dais where the pakhan normally holds court. For now, the high-backed chair upholstered in green leather is empty.

A large conference table fills much of the remaining space in the oak paneled room and all but seven chairs are empty. There are six brigadiers, including Grigor and one advisor, Sasha. She sits with her laptop open in front of her and her yelp of shock is scarily convincing. But I don’t think that’s why her husband flinches.

“Katarina, we thought…” Grigor’s voice trails off as he registers my presence.

“Two ghosts for the price of one,” I say to ease the confused looks.

I swear one brigadier glances at the vodka bottle they’ve been sharing as if he thinks it’s been spiked. All six men stand up as one. Sasha remains seated.

In accordance with protocols, all members were searched for weapons before entering the chamber, but every single one of the bastards reaches for a concealed weapon. Most have blades, but Yuri had a micro pistol hidden up his sleeve. Grigor out does them all by reaching for a large machete taped beneath the table.

A few brigadiers cast furtive looks at him. If the meeting had continued to its natural conclusion, those who didn’t support Grigor wouldn’t have left the room alive. How relieved they must be that we’ve interrupted the meeting. It’s just a shame their odds of survival haven’t improved.

“Are you seriously expecting to step up as pakhan, Katarina?” sneers one man. “I can tell you now, whatever happens here, our men will never take orders from a spoiled bitch with your track record.”

“Don’t ever talk to my wife like that again,” I say, punctuating my warning with a shot that puts a bullet between his eyes.

I sweep my Glock across the remaining five. Anton and Yuri won’t attack because they think they’re my allies, and Grigor isn’t going to throw his machete and lose his only weapon, which leaves two immediate threats. Katarina and I don’t speak or so much as look at each other. I shoot one of the brigadiers at the exact same time she dispatches the other. Our synchronicity is something to behold. We just know each other’s moves. I won’t lie, that gift also comes in very useful in the bedroom.

Sasha tuts as she uses the sleeve of her white blouse to wipe blood from her laptop. “Do you have to make such a mess?”

“Would you like me to add your blood to the table, sestra?” Katarina asks. The venom behind her words is manufactured, but the glee not so much. Today she and Sasha get as near to closure as possible for the loss of their innocence, and their friends.

“I much preferred you when you were dead,” says Sasha.

“I was never going to rest in peace while we have outstanding issues to resolve.”

Grigor shows no concern about the implied threats towards his wife. He’s more interested in his own preservation.

“I’m impressed, Katarina,” he says as he turns his machete over in his hand. “Your resilience is beyond anything I could have hoped.” His gaze drags over me briefly. “I can’t pretend to be too impressed with your choice of husband, but an alliance with the Irish might work. With my help.”

Katarina’s smiling as she circles the table to get closer to her old camp commander. I position myself behind Anton and Yuri, curling my fingers over the top of my Kevlar vest. I appear relaxed, as are the two men with their backs to me. Idiots.

“The art of any negotiation is to make things simple,” I announce.

My movements are a blur as I grab two knives from beneath my vest and stab Anton and Yuri in the base of their skulls. They slump forward onto the conference table then slide to the floor, Anton’s landing softened by Yuri’s plump body.

“And there you go,” I say to Grigor. “Now it’s nice and simple.”

I’m fighting a smug grin as I wipe my knives clean on my combat pants. I’d plunged the knives through bone and cartilage with equal precision and force, the strength in my left and right hands perfectly balanced.

Katarina catches my look of self-satisfaction and rolls her eyes, mocking me for even doubting myself. She’s been my champion during my fight to full-health, as I’ve been hers. Believing in each other is how we’ve healed.

She taps the barrel of one of her handguns against her chin, pausing some ten feet away from Grigor. “I might have to disagree with you, husband,” she says. “Things are simpler, yes. But this is no negotiation.”

Sasha closes her laptop and stands next to her husband in what could be perceived as a show of support. Unlike the rest of us, she’s unarmed, which is why Katarina is holding an extra gun. They deserve to kill him together. Slowly.

“I fear you’re making assumptions you really shouldn’t,” warns Grigor, using his machete to pick at a fingernail. “You see, I do have a bargaining chip.”