Page 67 of Devotion

The message in Russian starts again.

“Overrun at checkpoint five. Checkpoint six. All sectors compromised. Await orders.Pakhanprotocols enacted. Await orders. Remain hidden. Enemy at large.”

It cuts out, another break.

But I have heard enough.

“How did this happen? Without any warning. Like they knew exactly where and when to strike.”

“The Volk are too strong for that. There’s no way these guys wipe us out,” Ciro reassures me, holding me close. “Besides, the other chapters of Volk will come running once we get a message out. They won’t stand for this.”

“Neither will our Rivals.”

“The others…they’ll support you?”

“In a situation like this, on our soil, in our homeland? Yes. All feuds are cast aside when an outsider makes a move in Motherland.”

“Good. Then we just need to get out of town. Just enough to make a call.”

“Not before I see the compound. The house. I need to know Matvey is safe.”

“He’s probably holed up in one of these houses just like us, bitching about not having cable TV.”

I want to smile, to appreciate his words and his attempt at calming me. But a sick feeling swims in my gut.

Something is terribly wrong.

“You are probably right. Still, I need to know. And if we can find a clue as to who these menaces are, even better.”

“I’m down to kill a couple. And of course, keep one for you to torture.”

“Thank you, Ciro.”

“Anything you need. I have your back.”

I am equally grateful that he did not try to tell me to stay here, to play it safe. He knows me better than that.

“There are guns, clean clothes.”

“Uh, great. We’ll get right to it.” He glances to the side, then down at himself. Then me. “Or, we could, you know, eat, shower, plan.”

Snorting lightly, I shove him out of the way, heading for the bathroom.

“Saves time if we shower together,da?”

“Da. Veryda.” Ciro rushes to follow, looking like a sweet fool running totally naked through the apartment.

The shower is quick, rough, hot. And the water is too.

Ciro throws together a meal from what the safe house has in the pantry. Mostly MRE. Simple. Filling. He even does me the favor of keeping his thoughts to himself about the taste, even as he makes faces stuffing it down.

Big baby.

Because my thoughts are solely on my family. On this outrageous attack.

The sudden appearance of a foreign power.

A massive deployment of private troops. And zero response from the military, the police. Someone with a lot of money, then.

---