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“So, where are we going?” Dimitri asks.

“There’s a safe house nearby. Do you have a go bag?”

“A what?”

“A go bag. You know, an ‘Oh shit, the whole world is collapsing and I need to get the fuck out of here’ kind of bag.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

See, that’s what I love about criminals. Good criminals, at least. Organized crime is, in fact, highly organized.

“Alright, great. So we’ll get the go bag, regroup, reconnect with my team, and get the fuck out of here. I need to get to an embassy or something.”

In the car, he’s silent, and I give him vague directions until we arrive at one of the stone apartments—a relic of the Communist era.

Immediately, I head up the stairs. The door’s slightly open, the bullet holes evidence of how a hostile made quick work of the locks. That’s when I notice the thick, red liquid coming out from under the door.

Oh, I don’t even need to go in. I know what’s in there. Bodies. My entire team has been compromised.

But there’s information in there I need.

I brace myself for whatever horrors I might see, and as I push open the door, I advise Dimitri, “Stay out here.”

I’ve been ordering him around and for the most part, he seems kind of okay with it. I don’t know how long that’s going to last. Maybe once the reality sets in and he processes his trauma, he’s going to be super pissed that I’ve been bossing him around all day. Or maybe he’s willing to sacrifice his dignity in order to survive, if only for a little bit—which I appreciate.

Marguerite’s body lays in the hallway as if she dragged herself to the door in her final moments. There’s a steady trail of her blood from her table to where she’s currently lying. Perhaps she was trying to cry out in her last breaths.

Looking past her, I notice the computers are all gone. Everything is gone. My team. My backup. Everything. George’s body is slumped over the desk. Moving past him I notice there’s another body… George’s girlfriend. Did she have something to do with this? Did she compromise our safety?

There’s one last door I kick open. The office has been ransacked, but there’s no bodies. Maybe my boss made it out alive.

Boom!

The sound of metal and glass exploding rattles the building. Car bomb. Maybe my boss didn’t make it out.

I need one thing and it’s behind the locked closet door. It’s easy enough to break in with a quick kick. On the floor behind a pile of coats and gloves sits five go bags. Grabbing my red bag, my heart sinks when I see Markus’s green bag. He hasn’t gotten to HQ yet. I leave the bag where it is, in hopes that he might still need it.

Right now, I’m an American undercover agent. My entire support system has vanished. I haven’t seen Markus in hours. I have no idea where I’m going, what I’m doing, and I have the lone survivor of the Koslov crime family as my companion.

Great. Fanfuckingtastic.

Dimitri stands in the doorway. His wide eyes take in everything. He’s seen enough dead bodies for today.

Nothing about this sits right with me.

“Katya,” Dimitri says, “we have to go.”

He’s right.

Dimitri pulls me out of the apartment, and as we race back to the car, I notice his arm is bleeding. Fuck. How did I miss that?

“Dimitri, when did you get shot?” I ask.

“Somewhere when we were leaving the house. I don’t even know.”

“We’ll deal with that later, okay? Right now, we have to get out of here. If I was attacked and you were attacked, we have no idea how safe we are. We need to leave—and ideally, out of Russia. We need to get to an embassy.”

“Fine,” Dimitri says. “I know a guy.”