Page 144 of Captive Ruin

“Clear east,” Nair says.

“Clear west ground,” Voss adds from the other side, his voice a crackle in my ear. “Two on the second floor, covered by the balcony.”

Haynes hits the push-to-talk on his throat mic. “Leave them.” He looks at me. “Inside?”

“Yes.”

We go in through a side door, Nair in first, Haynes on his heels. There’s no one around; they’re all asleep. Voss and the others beat us inside by seconds, and he points with two fingers, indicating the stairs.

We don’t know where Koval is, but we know the master bedroom is on the second floor. If he’s anywhere, he’ll be there.

The stairs creak underfoot, loud in the quiet of the house. We reach the next floor, a hallway stretching out with doors on either side, and Koval’s room should be at the end. Nair leads, moving quickly and quietly. He stops beside a pair of double doors, waiting for us to catch up, gives us a nod, and we burst through.

A man and a woman are in the bed, wrapped up in black silk sheets. Nair takes the girl while I pull my karambit, waking my target up with it pressed to his throat. Weapons fire and glass smashes as the others take out the two guards on the balcony.

But the man beneath my blade is not Koval. He’s not here.

Fuck. All this, for nothing? I’ve left my brand new wife at home for weeks on end, and it’s been leading up to this moment, only for it to be a dud? I want to be home, spending all hours of the day and night buried inside her, but now I might have to keep away from her for even longer.

Goddammit, no. I’m getting something out of this.

I slap the man’s face. “Where’s Koval?”

He jerks, glaring at me in defiance. “I tell you nothing,” he says in a guttural Russian accent. “Kill me and be done.”

I jerk my head toward the girl. “Maybe I’ll start with her.”

The woman whimpers in fear and starts thrashing beneath Nair’s hold around her throat. The bedding slips, and beneath it she’s naked, her bare breasts gleaming pale.

I look away. I don’t care; the only woman I want to see is my Little Stray, and this fucked-up operation means I still have work to do before I can get back to her.

I’m pissed.

“I still won’t talk,” the man replies, far too composed as he stares death in the face.

“You,” I say to the woman. “Where’s Koval?”

The man barks a command in Russian. “Nichego ne govori.”

“Don’t say anything,” Voss translates.

Yeah, I got that.

I pull back my blade and hit him in the head with the hilt. He slumps unconscious, eyes rolling up.

The woman starts gibbering in Russian, Voss replying, and she shakes her head as she answers. Another exchange, and she’s getting more animated and desperate. I don’t need the translation to figure out the result.

“She doesn’t know where he is,” Voss says. “He was here two days ago, but left.”

“Fuck!” I snap, and the girl cringes at my outburst.

Nair pulls the sheet back up, ever the gentleman, and she falls quiet in response, gripping it tight. She casts wild looks at each of us.

“Do you want to take him?” Haynes asks, pointing at the unconscious man.

I look at Voss. “Find out who he is.”

Another exchange of Russian with the woman. “He’s a brigadir. One of Koval’s favored.”