Page 135 of Twilight Tears

We killed our way through the building, tearing down Pavel’s unprepared soldiers, but Pavel himself never showed.

He isn’t here. Maybe he never was.

Kuzma and Savva walk out of a back room. Kuzma’s hair is matted with blood and Savva is carrying a limp man by the arm.

“Anything?” I call.

“This guy has some information. Repeat what you said to—” Savva looks down at the limp man and groans in disgust. Then he drops him to the ground. “He fucking died.”

“What did he say before that?” I bark.

“He said Pavel was never here.” Kuzma kicks the dead man’s leg. “He said they were ordered here this morning for a meeting with some lower-level lieutenants.”

I spin to face Dima, who is listening in with lethal focus. “I saw the photo of Pavel and his men. Nik showed it to you. They were here.”

“It was just a photo. It could have been faked. Maybe we were wrong about the location. Maybe?—”

“Maybe your brother doesn’t have his fucking facts straight,” Dima hisses. “Maybe Nikandr needs to step down and?—”

The words die in his throat as I close the gap between us and press my gun to his temple. “Keep talking and you’ll be dead before you finish that sentence.”

Dima growls, but he raises his hands in a small surrender. “I’m as pissed as you are, Yakov. He was supposed to be here.”

“And my brother doesn’t have anything to do with him not being here.”

“Nik is a good man,” Dima admits through gritted teeth. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

Slowly, I lower my gun. “If you question my brother again, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

He dips his head as a show of respect. “You’re a good brother, Yakov.”

I ignore the compliment and step back. “You were the one on patrol, Dima. If Pavel escaped, it would be your fault.”

“If Pavel was here, he’d be dead on the floor somewhere. I had eyes on every corner of this fucking warehouse. He didn’t escape,” he insists. He spins around, scanning the walls like he expects to see Pavel scaling them. “He was just never here.”

Dima’s phone rings and he answers. Every word out of his mouth is clipped. He hangs up less than a minute later.

“Our men took the clubhouse,” he says loud enough that the entire room can hear him. “A few of Pavel’s men escaped, but most of them are dead.”

“No Pavel?”

Dima clenches his jaw. “No. No Pavel. But we took the clubhouse. Pavel’s numbers are decimated.”

“But Pavel is alive.”

A failure. A fucking failure. This entire mission is a waste.

Pavel knows Dima and I are working together by this point. Whatever advantage we had, it’s gone.

“He’s alive with significantly fewer guards to protect him,” Dima fires back.

“It doesn’t matter how many of his men are gone if Pavel is still alive.” I gesture to the bodies piled up around us. “Pavel is willing to sacrifice these men. He doesn’t fucking care about them. He doesn’t need them.”

Dima frowns. “He can’t lead without support.”

“He doesn’t want to lead.” The air smells like rot and iron. Blood is leaking into my shoe, squelching under my sock. “He wants revenge. And we’ve just made it even more personal.”

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