Page 32 of Enemy Within
Sergey!Cursing, Sasha grabbed Ilya’s arms. His hands shook. “Ilya, Sergey is there now. In Siberia!”
“What? Why? Last intel said he was still in the Caucasus.”
Sasha’s gaze darted to the criminals, too close for comfort. “The Americans came. They are helping.Two in particular.Close friends of Sergey’s.” He willed Ilya to understand, staring into his eyes. “There’s a rendezvous on the east coast. Subs from America. Sergey is heading there now!”
“Through the worst band of murderers in the world.” Ilya exhaled, tipping back his head and closing his eyes. “Govno,Sergey.”
“We have to help him!” Damn it, Sergey wasn’t supposed to be in danger. He was supposed to get to Simushir Island, meet up with the Americans. Get the help he needed, and then wait for the Americans to take care of everything.Fuck, fuck!He needed to be there, with Sergey. Aleksey and Anton were good policemen, former federalpolizeifrom Sochi, but they weren’t devoted to Sergey. Would they protect him the right way? Save his life?
And Jack. The American president. If he was murdered by an escaped Russian criminal…
“How can we help Sergey?” Ilya paced away, rubbing one hand over his face. “We don’t know where he is. Siberia is a black hole. Millions of men have vanished and died there through the years. We cannot just search for one man. We will never find him!”
“I know his route. I helped plan it. I know where he should be.”
“You know as well as I how useless plans are. This is not a parade route, Sasha. What do you expect, that you will wait on the road for him?”
“Yes.”
Ilya sighed. “We’re moving on Moscow soon. The time to strike against Moroshkin isnow. He has weakened himself, splitting his forces over the pole. I cannot do the same. I cannot split my forces and send them into Siberia on a wild chase.”
“But it isSergey!”
“IknowSergey! I believe in him. You should too. You should think better of him! He can hold his own. He is a good fighter. And he is not alone, no?” Ilya scowled. “I can do more for him by retaking Moscow. Giving his country back to him.”
“Are you sure you are not taking it for yourself?” Sasha snapped.
Two steps were all it took for Ilya to storm to him, fury crackling as he shoved Sasha back, sending him sprawling to his ass on the wooden floor again. “Watch your mouth,” he growled. “Yourfeelingsfor Sergey are not an excuse to impugn our friendship. We were friends before you wereborn.”
Heat flared through Sasha, a burn that scorched his soul.Ilya knows!Shame licked at his skin, left him exposed. How many others knew? How many others looked down on him, despised him? Thought him sick and deranged, a pathetic dog chasing its master?
Still… “I have to go to him,” he breathed. “I have to.”
Ilya’s eyes closed. “You would be more helpful to me here. I could use you, Sasha.”
“Ineedto find him.”
“Govno.” Ilya scrubbed his hands over his face, through the unruly whiskers that had grown in on his jaw. “I can spare one truck. Some weapons. Fuel. But that is all.”
“Thank you.” He exhaled, his heart seeming to finally beat again. “Where are the others I was captured with? The tribesmen?”
Ilya turned to the one who had dragged Sasha in, a hulking man with a prison tattoo on his neck. The man grumbled something and stormed out.
“They were taken to a dorm for holding. They will be released now.”
“They saved my life.”
“We will give them food and blankets and send them on their way.” Ilya gripped his shoulder. “Get over to Piotr. He’ll get you clothes. A real jacket. Weapons. But, see me before you go.”
LATER, HE SAT BEHIND the wheel of a small pickup truck, two rifles and a shotgun locked and loaded beside him on the bench seat. He had a new jacket on and a warm hat. Thick boots.
Kilaqqi had said his goodbyes already, and had left Ilya’s compound with his tribesmen. “We must go and reunite with the herd,” he said, smiling as he looked east. “And you have your own uniting to do.”
“I am sorry,” Sasha had stammered back to him. “For what happened to your people. You should have left me in the snow.”
“Fear of what is to come is no excuse to not help another.” Kilaqqi had touched his cheek, stroked his thumb over Sasha’s swollen cheekbone. “Chew the roots I gave you three times a day. It will help with the pain.”
He’d nodded and thanked Kilaqqi, and then watched him and his tribesmen walk away, leaving Ilya’s den of thieves and returning to the snowy wilderness, back north to their herd.
