Deputy Director William Hargrove arrives at the cabin, his presence commanding and imposing. He’s a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late fifties, with a stern, weathered face that speaks of years spent in the field. His eyes are sharp, scanning the surroundings with a practiced eye, missing nothing. His hair is a salt-and-pepper crew cut, and he moves with military precision.

‘Deputy Director Hargrove,’ I greet him, extending a hand.

‘Mr. Stepanov,” he nods, shaking my hand with a firm grip. His gaze shifts to Fyodor briefly before settling back on me.

We convene in the basement, a space that feels both secure and isolated, perfect for the confidential nature of our meeting. The atmosphere is tense, charged with the significance of what we’re about to discuss.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Hargrove kicks it off. “This mission is high-risk. You need to be fully aware of what you’re getting into.”

I nod, my expression serious. “I understand the risks. I’m ready to do what’s necessary to bring this asshole down.”

Hargrove nods, pulling out a small device from his briefcase. “This is the latest in covert recording technology. It’s virtually undetectable, but if Boris’ men decide to pat you down, it could still be found, depending on how thorough they are. You need to be prepared for that possibility.”

I take the device, examining it closely. It’s smaller than I expected, no larger than a coin and looks like a tie pin. ‘Understood. What exactly do you need Boris to say to make the charges stick?’

‘We need details about the money laundering operations,’ Hargrove explains. ‘Specifics about accounts, methods, any partners he’s working with. And if he threatens you or discusses any other illegal activities, that’s a bonus.’

Fyodor interjects, ‘And if he suspects anything?’

Hargrove meets his gaze. ‘Then we move in immediately. But that’s a last resort. We need this to be clean, by the book. We can’t afford any mistakes.’

I feel the weight of the responsibility settle on my shoulders. ‘I’ll get you what you need,’ I say, determination steeling my voice.

Hargrove nods, his expression grim. ‘Remember, Ivan, your safety is paramount.’

I look at Fyodor, then back at Hargrove. ‘I understand.’

As Fyodor, Deputy Director Hargrove, and I step out of the basement, I can’t help but feel a pang of unease at leaving Julie behind. I secured the cabin meticulously, ensuring that every possible measure of safety was in place, but worry for Julie’s protection still lingers like a shadow.

“Let’s get moving,” Hargrove says. “I parked inconspicuously down the way, on the other side of the woods.”

The evening is cool and overcast, the sky a uniform slate gray. Fyodor, walking beside me, wears a deep frown, his unease with the plan evident. ‘I don’t like this, Ivan,’ he mutters, his voice low.

I nod, understanding his concerns. ‘Neither do I, but we don’t have much choice.’

The three of us make our way through the dense woods surrounding the cabin, our footsteps crunching into the thick carpet of fresh fallen snow. The conversation is intense, focused on the details of the plan to entrap Boris.

Suddenly, the distant sound of a car engine roaring to life breaks the natural stillness of the woods. My head snaps up, a frown forming as the meaning behind the unexpected noise registers. Something’s not right. No one should be leaving until the next shift of guards arrives.

I instinctively reach for my phone, only to realize with a sinking feeling that I’ve left it back at the cabin. ‘Fyodor,’ I call out, my voice tense, ‘Call the guards. Now.’

Fyodor quickly pulls out his phone, dialing the number with swift, precise movements. I turn back toward the cabin, my strides long and urgent. Deputy Director Hargrove’s voice follows me. ‘Ivan, what’s happening?’

‘I’m not sure but it isn’t good.’

As we hasten back through the trees, Fyodor’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and alarmed. ‘Ivan, it’s Julie. She’s taken off.’

A cold dread washes over me, a fear like I’ve never known clutching at my chest. Without a second thought, I snatch the phone from Fyodor’s hand. ‘What the fuck?’ I bark into the receiver. ‘Why did you let her leave? Did she say where she’s going?’

The guard on the other end stammers out a response, but it doesn’t matter. Julie is out there, alone and exposed to the danger we’ve been trying so hard to shield her from. My mind races with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.

I quicken my pace, practically running now. Hargrove and Fyodor are close behind, their footsteps heavy in the underbrush. The urgency of the situation is clear to all of us.

‘Ivan, we need to stick to the plan,’ Hargrove insists, trying to keep his voice level despite the obvious emergency.

But my focus is on one thing and one thing only—Julie. Everything else fades into the background, insignificant compared to her safety. ‘The plan can wait,’ I snap back. ‘Julie is out there alone, and God knows what could happen to her.’

I’m calculating my next move, the various scenarios playing out in my mind.

‘Get your car,’ I order Fyodor, my voice commanding. ‘We need to replace her before anyone else does.’

Fyodor nods, a grim determination on his face as he hurries to comply. Hargrove follows, his expression tight with concern.

My grip tightens on the phone as I listen to the guard’s explanation, a simmering rage building inside me with every word he utters. His voice, laced with a mixture of confusion and helplessness, does nothing to quell the storm brewing within me.

‘So she just drove away?’ I hiss into the phone, my tone sharp as a blade. ‘And you watched her leave?’

‘We were following your orders, Mr. Stepanov. We were patrolling the grounds, maintaining the perimeter. We didn’t expect—’

I cut him off, my voice rising in anger. ‘ You’re supposed to be protecting her! What’s the point of you being here if you let her just drive off?’

There’s a pause, the guard’s voice faltering under the weight of my fury. ‘I’m sorry, sir. We didn’t think she’d leave. By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late.’

‘Follow her, now!’ I bark into the phone. ‘Get in your car and track her down.’

Another pause, the guard’s next words fueling my anger further. ‘She took our vehicle, Mr. Stepanov. We don’t have a way to follow her.’

‘Save it,’ I interrupt, my voice cold with disgust and exasperation. ‘What kind of security detail leaves their keys unattended? You’re fired. Both of you.’

Fyodor glances at me, his expression one of concern. ‘Ivan, we’ll replace her. She can’t have gone far.’

My feet pound against the ground as I run, every muscle tensed and ready for action. Fyodor and Deputy Director Hargrove are close on my heels, their breaths echoing in the quiet.

I burst through the front door, my mind racing with scenarios and possibilities. Where could Julie have gone?

I snatch my phone from the kitchen table, dialing Julie’s number with shaking fingers. I hear the ring in my ear as well as across the room from where her phone sits on the counter.

Panic grips me, a tight knot in my stomach. Julie’s disappearance is out of character, not to mention alarming. She’s well aware of the danger and understands the precarious situation we’re in. For her to leave so abruptly and without her phone, it has to be something critical.

I turn to Deputy Director Hargrove, my decision made. ‘I know we have a deal, but I have to go after her,’ I say, the words rushed, desperate.

Understanding flashes in Hargrove’s eyes, a nod of acknowledgment. ‘Go. We’ll be in touch,’ he says, his voice firm.

Fyodor tosses me the car keys, but then stops dead in his tracks. “Look at this,” he says, holding up a piece of paper. I rush over, my eyes frantically scanning the words that have been scribbled across the page.

“Let’s go.”

We run outside to the car and I slip into the driver’s seat, my hands gripping the steering wheel.

‘We’ll catch up to her,’ Fyodor assures me, his voice calm though I can hear the underlying concern.

I nod as I turn my attention on the road ahead. Julie’s safety is my only concern now. The car roars to life, and I tap the accelerator, the engine responding with a powerful surge.

We speed down the driveway, the trees a blur as we make our way onto the main road. Every second feels like an eternity, each minute stretching out with the weight of my worry for Julie.

Fyodor checks his phone, trying to reach the guards, gather any information he can. ‘They said she left in a hurry, didn’t say a word to anyone,’ he reports, his voice tight.

I grit my teeth, frustration and fear battling within me. What could have driven her to take such a risk? The only answer that makes sense is Barb, her aunt, the one person she’d go to any lengths for.

The car speeds along the highway, cutting through the landscape as we follow the route to the city.

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