Page 70 of Power's Fall

“Yes, Admiral,” Vadisk said.

“Yes, Admiral,” Montana and Dahlia echoed.

There was another beat of silence before Grigoris took over the call. “Before you hang up, I want to go over the backup exit plan one more time.”

Their plan was to exit the same way they’d entered—on a private plane, with all paperwork in place and every hoop of bureaucracy jumped. Calm. Simple.

Vadisk rose, walking away and switching to Hungarian to talk to Grigoris. If it got to the point of them needing another exit, this insane escape plan, it would mean everything had gone to shit. No need to freak his husband and wife out with the details unless it was entirely necessary.

Nikolett eased backin her chair once Vadisk was off the line, finally letting herself grimace. It hadn’t been a video call, but she’d been worried Vadisk would hear pain in her voice if she didn’t keep her expression neutral. He knew her too well, and if she’d so much as winced, he might have heard it. Vadisk was the firstharcoshe’d recruited, and he’d been acting as her bodyguard for years, which meant, they’d spent a lot of time together.

A bodyguard had been necessary this past year, ever since the snake.

And yet, the snake was tame in comparison to the assassination attempts she’d lived through recently. Today’s was particularly gruesome, though not lethal.

Elena, sitting cross-legged on the floor by Nikolett’s chair, cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t tell Vadisk thatI’mwith you acting as your bodyguard? I’m hurt, Admiral.”

Nikolett eyed her balefully, but since Elena’s hands were applying pressure to the field-dressed wounds on her leg, she didn’t say anything. Elena had spent the entire phone call like that—sitting on the floor as Nikolett sat side-on to her desk with one leg elevated. Nyx was acting as doctor’s assistant, standing by the large rolling medical cart that was now a permanent fixture in Nikolett’s office, and waiting for Elena’s next instructions.

Now that the call to Vadisk was over, Grigoris slid out of the room, his face set in grim lines as he went to help the rest of the security officers try to figure out who had set the bear trap in Nikolett’s small garden.

A bear trap.

Nikolett swallowed hard against the memory of feeling like she was stepping on something, followed by a metal click, and then a horrible pressure and pain. The agony was so blinding, she was fairly certain she’d passed out at least briefly. But the trap hadn’t snapped her leg bone, which was good.

“I want to unwrap it and see if we’re ready for sutures.” Elena’s voice flipped from conversational to the firm, authoritative medical tone that seemed too big and commanding for the woman’s small frame.

Nyx, wearing a paper surgical gown and cap, snapped on a fresh set of gloves and started opening shallow drawers in the medical cart. “Are we going to argue about pain relief today?” She cocked a brow at Nikolett, who shot Nyx the same baleful look she’d given Elena.

“No, I won’t object.”

Nyx walked over with a syringe, Nikolett propped her elbow on her desk, and Nyx stabbed her upper arm with the needle. It burned when injected.

“This may sting,” Nyx said after the fact.

Nikolett narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“I’ll put an IV in once we’re done here,” Elena said as she peaked under the gauze pads on either side of Nikolett’s leg. “Nyx, I need her up on the table, and I’ll need the lidocaine.”

Nyx quickly removed the few things on Nikolett’s desk.

She used to have a cute desk. Now she had a massive, sturdy wood desk that could double as an exam table. Nyx laid down sterile drapes, then steadied Nikolett as she rose from the chair, balancing on one foot while Elena held the other leg with a firm grip around her calf. Nikolett sucked in air as her leg started to throb.

“I can lift her.” Grigoris had returned and was standing out of the way, wearing the same loose surgical robe as the others.

“I’m fine.” Nikolett eased herself up onto the desk, lying back as Elena and Nyx guided her legs onto the table.

Nyx returned to the rolling cart as Nikolett stared resolutely at the ceiling. She didn’t want to see her leg. She wasn’t normally squeamish, but this particular method of attack made her gorge rise. Frankly, she’d preferred being shot. Her left shoulder still gave her problems sometimes, but overall, that had been a much easier injury to deal with, the bullet having entered her torso just under the collarbone and exited her back after chipping her shoulder blade.

That particular assassination attempt had been about five months ago, and the first sign that their post-snake increased security measures were no longer working.

“Keep your knee bent.”

Nikolett grabbed her thigh, tugging up so her knee was slightly bent. The shot must have been working because it didn’t hurt to move her leg.

“This would be easier with an actual, fully equipped treatment suite.”

For now, Nikolett’s office, which had the best security of any room in her house, did double duty as an emergency room. They’d talked about converting a spare bedroom, or one of the storage rooms on the second floor, into a proper medical suite, but Grigoris and Vadisk hadn’t wanted any construction workers in here until they knew who was trying to kill her.

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