Wolfgang makes his way nimbly from the roof to an alley to a side street and disappears into the metro. In less than 40 minutes, he is holed up in a nondescript motel, picked for him by Tyotya Anna.
Six other voices clamor in his brain, want to know if he knew it was going to happen, furious they've been played, anxious that they'll be dragged into a worse situation than they're already in. He shuts them out for a moment while he manages his own sense of anger. They leave him alone.
Wolfgang takes a cold shower more out of habit than need; stands under the water longer than necessary. He's icy when he comes out but hardly notices and throws on some clothes only because he should.
Wolfgang grabs a beer purchased earlier and opens it, turns on the tv and sits on his bed while he waits for Anna to call. He's on his second bottle and smoking a cigarette when the news comes on.
Black Jacket's name was Anatoly.
The name seems familiar, and the shudder that ripples through the Cluster reminds Wolfgang why: Early on, Nomi identified him as someone Viktor dealt with regularly, exchanging all those undisguised email messages. He was the vor dealing in drugs.
The news rambles on that Anatoly was a well-known businessman, married, three children. He recently dabbled in politics, aligned himself with people of some influence: Power brokers. Lobbyists. Deputies of the Gosduma. He split his time between an apartment in Moscow and an estate just outside of St. Petersburg.
Wolfgang nods. Of course.
It's an open secret that Anatoly was a vor. There is rampant speculation as to who ordered the hit.
Wolfgang takes the last drink of his beer before chasing it down with the cigarette.
Tyotya Anna floats on screen, flanked by Dyadya Sasha and Yeruslan. Wolfgang looks on with some interest, never having seen his Uncle Alexander in person. He's a large man in a crisp black suit, a full head of longish gray hair; precisely the kind of man Wolfgang would have guessed was Anna's type. He puts Wolfgang in mind of a German wrestler he used to watch on TV as a kid; it's even more apparent that his and Viktor's lighter, chiseled looks come from their mothers' side of the family.
Anna looks distraught, refuses to speak with reporters as she's escorted away from the police station, clutching her husband's arm. As they walk by, the reporters identify Anna and Alexander as business associates: They mention that Anatoly was killed in front of her, that she witnessed his body knock over some unfortunate man leaning against the railing. She didn't know who the man was; just that he was a guest of Anatoly's.
His smartphone rings and Wolfgang mutes the TV, takes a breath as he looks at the screen and answers.
"Did you have any problems?" Tyotya Anna sounds her usual concerned, maternal self. The news footage was from an hour ago.
"What the fuck did you do?" His tone is quiet, but there's an undercurrent of anger. "That man you pushed in the way so he took the bullet instead of Whispers? That's your 'business associate'."
She makes an impatient noise. "What does it matter? The doctor from that company is dead. This way, it looks like his death is an accident: collateral damage." She pauses, as if waiting for Wolfgang to acknowledge the truth of the statement, sighs when he says nothing. "Our interests aligned. The police don't know you exist. This will just be another vor hit, with no thought that it is anything more."
"What about his allies?" Wolfgang asks, voicing the Cluster's concern. "What if Anatoly's people look for who's responsible? Now we fight them and BPO?" He tries not to think that at this moment, Kala is vulnerable, unconnected from them, while BPO waits for an opportunity to take her. It's small consolation that she's in a different room, in a much busier part of the hospital, well-guarded by Viktor's men, by Jude, and as of 2 hours ago, Felix.
But none of them are him.
"Have a little faith in your tyotya, plemyannik," she says. She calls him "nephew", but not playfully so. She is very serious. "Things are moving quickly, but it's to plan. And your problem will be resolved, and so will ours." She mutes the phone for a moment at the sound of a male voice, talks to someone Wolfgang presumes is Alexander. When she gets back on, she sounds weary, but firm. "Go back to your woman in India, Wolfgang," she says. "You have a ticket to Goa waiting for you at Domodedovo. Flight is tomorrow at 5 in the morning. Yeruslan will take you. He'll pick you up at 3. I presume you're not going to get much sleep anyway."
He doesn't deny it. "Tyotya Anna," he says, before he can reconsider, before she can end the call. He flounders a little before he states flatly: "I didn't expect you'd be capable of that."
She laughs a little. "You didn't?" she asks, and she sounds oddly offended and defensive at the same time. "What ideas you must have," she says, genuinely intrigued. "Your mother was very kind, very soft. But we were raised Bratva. She married Anton because we're Bratva." Anna gives a short huff; he imagines her shrugging her shoulders. "And I'm the elder. I wasn't just raised to this life. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Wolfgang?" She stops, thoughtful. "What I did on that roof? It is not the worst of my sins." And she pauses, adds under her breath, like a catechism: "'Bozhe milostiv budi mne, greshnuyu.'" 'God be merciful to me, a sinner.'
...
At precisely 3 in the morning, the Tatar is parked outside of the motel, waiting. It's with an eerie sense of deja vu that Wolfgang meets him. They say little to each other while Yeruslan drives, but it's almost companionable, the quiet. When they arrive at the airport, Wolfgang takes only a carry-on and leaves the rifle and the clothes he'd worn, even the shoes, in the trunk.
"Proshchay," he tells the Tatar. Goodbye.
"Do skorovo," Yeruslan smirks back. Until next time.
...
The flight to Goa is more than 10 hours long. There's no shift in his consciousness, but Wolfgang tries to reach Kala. He feels illogically disappointed when he can't.
It's 3 hours into his flight when he startles awake: He hadn't realized he'd even fallen asleep. Jude sits in the empty seat next to him. "Come with me, "Jude says grimly.
In a blink, they're both in the home in Anjuna, inside the bedroom Wolfgang shared with Kala. The room is completely upended: The dresser drawers are turned over, their contents strewn on the floor. The mattress is propped against a wall; the altar Kala had so reverently and lovingly created for Ganesha lies scattered by the night stand, flipped over on its side. Wolfgang's fists clench at the desecration.
"Where's Lucy?" he asks quietly. "Was she home?"
"Thankfully she's not here." Jude picks up the night stand, begins to set the makeshift altar back to rights. "Yesterday, those men from the company came here, asking questions. She was afraid they'd come back; said she wasn't staying here until I was back for real. She stayed with friends after work; thank God. I just got here to shower." He looks around at the destruction, his expression deliberately blank. "The rest of the bedrooms look like this, too. Downstairs, you'd never know."
Wolfgang looks around, inventories what's left in the room.
His gun, which he'd left for Kala and she'd kept in the top dresser drawer, is gone. But more importantly, Kala's laptop, typically hidden between the mattress and the slats of the bed frame, is gone too.
"Scheisse," he mutters. "Did you call the police?"
Jude shakes his head. "No. We probably won't." He gives a rueful smile. "We're not the kind of people who typically call police. I wanted you to see."
"And Kala?"
"Doctors were checking her when I left." Jude drags the mattress to the bed, pulls it onto the frame and sits for a moment. "One of your men is still there with Felix. The other one and I will be back tonight. They expect Whispers sometime tonight or tomorrow. At least, that's what Kala's doctor said." He frowns. "They're expecting a fight."
Wolfgang nods. "Don't worry about Whispers," he says. "But I'll be there tonight."
He leaves Jude but doesn't return immediately to the plane.
Instead, he visits Nomi; tells her the laptop is gone.
Nomi's in a car with Amanita, listening to a phone app tell them to turn left in 2 miles. Considering her distress from the previous day, Nomi takes the news in stride. "That's ok," she says. "Kala didn't put identifiers on her subject data. She knew who each was." She frowns, considering, as she continues to talk: "Besides, it's not as if they didn't already have this data through their own research and the research done by Rajan's company. Or Limited Solutions. All the new stuff. . . ," Nomi swings her blue gaze at Wolfgang, sitting in the back seat. "What about the flash drive?" she asks. "Where is it?"
"I don't know." He pauses, tries to think, but Kala never worked on the serum while he was with her.
"We saved everything onto that flash drive," says Nomi. She's thoughtful for a moment, before she asks Wolfgang: "You know your white shirt? The thin one? Linen? With pockets?" It takes a moment for him to recall which, but he nods. "Check the pockets. I bet it's there."
He's back in Anjuna immediately and helps Jude rummage through the clothes scattered around the dresser, the closets. They find the shirt under bed sheets near the bed. Wolfgang recognizes it immediately; he'd worn it his last day in Anjuna. The flash drive is in a buttoned pocket. Jude takes it for safekeeping.
When Wolfgang tells Nomi they recovered the flash drive exactly where she thought, she looks relieved and gives a smirk. "Kala's been sleeping in that thing since you left," she tells him.
...
Seven hours into his flight and he wakes again, to Kala staring softly at him, her mouth quirking into a faint smile.
Wolfgang sits on a chair beside the hospital bed. His head rests on his arms, next to her pillow; his neck is stiff as he raises it to smile sleepily back at her. Felix is on a chair by the window, head buried in a game on his phone, Kala's back to him. Neither of the Russians is in the room; no one else is physically there besides Kala and Felix.
Kala reaches a hand to cup Wolfgang's face. "Hello again," she says, her voice wistful.
He's not sure how he could have missed the feeling of their connection returning. Wolfgang turns his head to plant a kiss on Kala's palm. "Schatz," he murmurs. "How do you feel?"
"Better," she says, her voice low. "The pain isn't nearly as bad. I will probably go home tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? "he repeats doubtfully, noting the monitors she remains attached to. But there's no EEG; there's no drainage tube. "Is that safe?"
She nods, then suddenly stills. Her brows furrow, and her face lights. "I feel everyone: I feel Will." She smiles, carefully tugging at each of her connections; the rest of the Cluster just on the edge of her consciousness. He watches as the joy wanes and her expression shutters as the implication hits her. "Is Whispers dead?" she asks quietly.
"Yes."
She takes this in. Her frown deepens before she gives a quick breath. "Then we're free," she says, her voice even, accepting.
He shakes his head, watches her closely. "Not yet." He holds her hand. "BPO still exists; those men are still here for you. They broke into Jude's home. Your laptop is gone."
Kala closes her eyes to think, shakes her head; the hand he doesn't hold flutters a little. "I don't think there's anything in it they don't already know," she murmurs. "I was careful. Everything we've done recently is stored in my flash drive."
Wolfgang gives a little exhale of relief. Kala shifts a little, worried. "You need to see if the flash drive is still there."
"We found it, Schatz," he says. He can't help the tilt of his mouth. She notices it immediately, flushes a little and looks indignant before she gives a rueful smile, sighs.
"I've missed you," she says simply, and the truth of her statement is in the steady gaze she gives him, unashamed to be so vulnerable, so trusting. It steals his breath, buries the gentle humor he'd felt in something that threatens to overwhelm him.
"I've missed you too." He strokes her face gently. "I'll be there soon."
...
His plane arrives in Goa without any delay. He's greeted unexpectedly by an enthusiastic Felix, and not so surprisingly by one of Viktor's men, the lean one from the hospital.
"This is Nos," says Felix in English, introducing the Russian.
Wolfgang's mouth quirks. "Nos?" he asks, shaking the man's hand.
"Da," responds Nos. They both glance at Felix. Nos shrugs: Wolfgang doesn't bother explaining that "nos" is probably a nickname, since it means the Nose, but the irony isn't lost on either Wolfgang or the Russian.
Felix fills him in on the relatively quiet morning with Kala, talking in the excited German that Wolfgang misses while Nos drives them to Anjuna.
"I can't believe you left Kala to meet me," Wolfgang tells Felix, amused, during a break in Felix's narrative. "What if Whispers' men return?" He's not really concerned, with Kala connected to the Cluster again and Jude back at the hospital with the other Russian.
"About that," says Felix, side-eying Nos a little nervously. "We won't need to worry about those two any time soon." He coughs deliberately, eyes wide. "Or maybe ever."
Wolfgang stares, surprised, before he nods, his gut twisting a little. He'd been warned by Viktor, and while a part of him is shocked, he'd be lying if he didn't admit he's also relieved. "Does Kala know?" he asks.
Felix shrugs. He glances meaningfully at Nos. "Die sind komplett durchgeknallt,", he says. They're completely crazy.
Wolfgang wonders what he'll say to Kala, two more deaths attributable to him because of his arrangement with Viktor. He gives a quiet exhale, nervous for that discussion, knowing she'll be horrified. Both sides of his family are fucked up.
As if on cue, his smartphone rings. Speak of the devil.
"When you get somewhere with decent reception," says Viktor without preamble, his voice for once betraying excitement, "go watch the news. The government has frozen Anatoly's assets, and they're looking into his investments. Including BPO. It's begun."
A/N: There's only one, maybe two chapters left. Thank you for sticking around! 3
Of course, thank you to KinoGlowWorm for not just fancy Russian but Russian folktales;-) And thank you Scaredofuhlek for giving Felix his German voice:-)
As always, reviews are much appreciated!