Page 67 of Rafi

Brando crouches beside them, his face grim. He reaches for Lucky’s wrist, checking his pulse, his jaw clenching when he feels how weak it is. “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” Scar says, his voice flat but laced with urgency. “We need supplies. Medical-grade. And we need them now.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?” Kanyan snaps, standing abruptly. “Let’s move him. We’ve got to get him to a medic?—”

“We can’t move him!” Scar barks, his frustration spilling over. “If we move him now, he’ll bleed out before we even make it out the door.”

The weight of Scar’s words settles over us like a lead blanket. Kanyan paces, running a hand through his hair. “So what do we do?” he demands, his voice cracking with the desperation none of us want to admit we feel.

“The doctor’s already on his way,” I say, standing and forcing my voice to stay steady. “He’ll be here soon.”

Brando looks at me, his eyes shadowed. “Where’s Tayana?”

The question slices through me, sharp and unforgiving. Tayana’s name is a wound that won’t stop bleeding, but I shove the pain down. “Gone. Igor took her,” I say, my voice hard. “But Lucky comes first.”

Kanyan stops pacing, turning to me with fire in his eyes. “We can’t waste time, Rafi. Mason and the rest will stay with Lucky. You and I need to follow Igor’s trail before it gets cold. He could be on his way out of the country by now…”

“And what good are we to her if Lucky dies here?” I snap, my anger spilling over. “We’re not losing anyone else, Kanyan. Not today.”

The room falls silent, the only sound Lucky’s shallow, labored breaths. Jacklyn looks up at me, her face pale but resolute. “It takes one person to operate on him, Rafi,” she says softly. “You go. Tayana needs you.”

I nod, my throat too tight to speak. Brando and Kanyan exchange a look before heading for the door. Scar stays where he is, his hands steady as they press against Lucky’s side.

As I follow Kanyan and Brando into the hallway, the weight of the situation presses down on me. Tayana is out there somewhere, under Igor’s control. And while we’re racing against the clock to save Lucky, every second feels like a step further away from finding her.

But I can’t lose focus. One crisis at a time.

I stand in the doorway, my jaw clenched, my fists tight at my sides as I take one final look at my brother. If Daniel Russo were still alive, I’d kill him all over again. The sound of Lucky’s pained breathing echoes faintly behind me as I steel myself for what’s to come. Somewhere out there, Tayana is waiting for me to find her—and I swear to myself that I won’t stop until she’s back where she belongs. With me.

The airin Leo’s surveillance room feels thick with anticipation, a suffocating mix of urgency and tension. The faint hum of computers and the occasional clack of keys provide the only soundtrack as Leo, perched at the main console, scans through grainy CCTV footage. His glasses catch the dim light as he adjusts them, an unnecessary flourish that draws a smirk from Kanyan.

Leo clicks a button, and the main screen projects a blurry, zoomed-in image of a helicopter sitting on a tarmac near a hangar. “The good news is,” he begins, his voice tinged with self-satisfaction, “Igor Aslanov relied heavily on Daniel Russo’s... let’s call it ‘questionable’ strategic planning. Without Russo, Igor doesn’t have much of a network here. He’s flying blind.”

I lean forward, my gaze narrowing at the image. “So, what are you trying to say? Plain English, Leo. Plain English. We don’t have all day.”

Leo swivels his chair, pointing at a second screen displaying a map with a blinking red dot. “This is where the helicopter landed. Fords, a private airstrip just outside the city.” His cursor circles the area, and the map zooms in on the location.

“Makes sense,” Kanyan mutters, though his disinterest in Leo’s theatrics is palpable. His eyes flick to the glasses perched on Leo’s nose, and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

Leo, undeterred, continues. “I hacked into CCTV cameras near the Vicci compound and tracked the branding on the helicopter. It’s tied to a company that leases space at Fords. This gives us our first solid lead.”

Brando crosses his arms, his jaw tight. “What else do we know?”

Leo switches to another screen, showing a satellite view of the airstrip and its surroundings. He highlights a small structure near the edge of the property. “There’s a bed-and-breakfast right here, on the outskirts of the airfield. If Igor hasn’t already left the country, my guess is he’s either holed up there or lying low in one of the hangars. Either way, he’s desperate to get out of here.”

“And why’s that?” I ask, leaning against the edge of the table, my arms crossed.

Leo swivels his chair again, this time with dramatic flair, as if he’s rehearsed this moment in his head. “Because I’ve been hearing chatter,” he says, his tone almost smug. He taps a finger against his glasses, a not-so-subtle nod to his earlier misstep. “I had to redeem myself with you guys after... you know.”

Yes, I know,I want to tell him.After you led me to believe you’re blind.

His self-congratulatory smirk earns an impatient growl from Brando. “What sort of chatter, Leo?”

Leo takes his time, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make Brando’s fingers twitch. Finally, he relents. “Anton Aslinov has just put a twenty-million-dollar bounty on Vasili Teskin’s head.”

The words hang in the air like a storm about to break.

“Twenty million?” Kanyan echoes, his voice sharp with disbelief.

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