“But your shoulder?—”
“Is holding up well enough,” she interrupts.
I shake my head and respond, “We should stick together, Katya.”
“No. Viktor’s mine. He ordered my execution, used me as his scapegoat, and tried to destroy everything I care about.”
Before I can argue with her, she’s moving through the trees. Every step shows her FSB background as she uses the cover of the trees to approach Viktor’s position undetected.
“Shit.” I spit out before I pick up my radio. “Boris, I need covering fire on Viktor’s location. Katya’s going after him.”
“Got it, boss. We’ll keep his bodyguards busy.”
Gunfire erupts around Viktor’s position as my men create chaos to cover Katya’s approach. Through my binoculars, I watch her move like a ghost through the forest, using every tree and shadow to stay hidden.
Viktor knows something’s wrong when his bodyguards start taking fire from directions they weren’t expecting. He moves toward an armored vehicle while his security team covers him.
“Viktor’s trying to run,” I report over the radio.
“He won’t get far,” Katya responds.
She appears behind Viktor’s group like death itself. Her shoulder doesn’t slow her as she drops his guards, one by one.
Viktor spins around when he realizes he’s under attack, and terror spreads across his face when he sees his former asset coming for him.
“Agent Sidorov,” he calls out, his hands raised. “We can work this out like professionals.”
“There’s nothing to work out,” Katya replies, her voice carrying through the trees.
“I was following orders from Moscow. I have proof I was acting under FSB authority. You don’t have to spend your life as a fugitive.”
Viktor’s making one last desperate play to save his skin. For a second, I wonder if she might consider going back to her old life.
Then, she pulls the trigger.
Three to the chest. Viktor is dead before he hits the dirt.
The man who spent months, maybe longer, trying to manipulate and kill her has been eliminated by the woman he tried to destroy.
“Target down,” she reports without an ounce of emotion.
Gunfire fades as Viktor’s men realize their boss is dead. Leaderless, they fall back to the trucks.
“Hostiles retreating,” Boris reports.
“Let them go,” I say. “We got what we came for.”
The fight is over. Viktor’s network is finished, his mercenaries are running, and he’s dead in the dirt. Most importantly, Katya made her choice when she pulled the trigger.
I make my way through the trees to where she’s standing over Viktor’s body. Her face shows nothing as she stares down at her former handler.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“Free,” she exhales. “Completely free.”
“Any regrets?”
She snorts. “About killing the man who ordered my death? Not one.”
