Hey guys, happy February! This is a long chapter (it was initially two shorter chapters but I decided to combine them into one longer chapter since I felt weird posting shorter chapters :P). There are two key events from the books that happen in this chapter. All I can say is read on for some feels.
Gonna reply to reviews on the previous chapter, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!
Guest: Read on to find out if your prediction is correct. I definitely agree, Mikhail's death is making me sad too (since he had so many good moments with Alexei and I loved writing Mikhail/Alexei scenes).
Guest: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter too!
Guest: Little does he know just how many people are out to get him :P
Potato: You'll see in later chapters ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Embassy Row series and all the characters (except for Tanner and Jordan and Alexei's Moscow friends (Roman, Eugene, Josef, and Yulia), who are my own creations). They belong to Ally Carter. I am merely using her characters and plotline to create this fanfiction. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes and would not exist without Ally Carter's wonderful works.
The events that happen in this fanfiction are not meant to be representative of real life. Any similarities to any real-life events or fictional works is purely coincidental and not intentional (with the exception of the original Embassy Row books by Ally Carter since this fanfiction is literally See How They Run but from Alexei's, not Grace's, perspective). The character's actions may not always reflect my own opinions or views. Based on what happens in this chapter (spoiler alert), I do not condone drugging other people or murder via explosion.
Trigger warning: moderate
This fanfiction is rated T, for suggestive themes, language, and violence. This chapter contains very mild language, depictions of death, and fire/ explosions. Read at your own discretion.
Chapter Sixteen: Last Goodbye
Of course, I couldn't sneak out of the embassy just yet, not with my father still around. I'd have to wait until he left for the press conference. Then, I could quickly sneak out, say goodbye to Grace, and come back. It would take me fifteen to twenty minutes at most and I would be back before anyone realized I was gone.
In the mean time, I had to clean myself up if I wanted to look like an innocent student, not a vengeful murderer. I took a long, hot shower, washing off all the grime from the last few days. I shaved. I gelled my hair out of my face. Then, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. At first glance, I looked fresh-faced and innocent, like the harmless student I was supposed to be. Yet, my black eye, split lip, and cuts and bruises marring my face proved otherwise, screaming to the world that I was capable of bloody murder. It looked like there was no win for me.
I walked to my closet. I put on one of my nicest black suits, pairing it with a white dress shirt, a long, skinny black tie, and shiny black dress shoes. Classic and timeless yet sophisticated. It was my go-to look for any formal event, which had primarily consisted of fancy parties. I hadn't realized that would extend to official police questionings until now.
I walked back into my room, turning on the TV. I absentmindedly flipped through it until it landed on one of the local news stations, which was hosting a live broadcast of the press conference. I watched the buildup of the press conference with mild interest, waiting until my father appeared on the screen. He sat at a table with Ambassador Vincent and the police chief, speaking about everything that had happened with me and Spence over the past few days. It was strange watching it from the outside, knowing I had been at the center of it all. Eventually, my father announced my decision to renounce my diplomatic status and immunity, saying how it was a difficult decision that came about after much discussion within the embassy. Yeah right. All it took was wallowing in my own thoughts for a few hours to come to that decision. My father and the other executive embassy staff didn't play any role in that.
I turned off the TV, throwing the remote against the wall in anger, not willing to listen to my father's bullshit any longer. Without any second thoughts, I quietly walked out of my room, softly closing the door behind me. I snuck out through the back door of the embassy, not passing a single soul. I knew I was walking into a death sentence, leaving the embassy now, but I had to say goodbye to Grace. I heard the roar of the protestors, still fighting for the proper vengeance of Spence's death. If I stepped onto the main streets now, there was no telling what would happen to me. Maybe I would be the one beaten to death.
I walked down the narrow alley to the little gap in the wall between the Russian and American embassies, my only escape route. As I scaled the wall, trying my best not to ruin my suit or my dress shoes on the rough stones, I couldn't help but think of a simpler time, when getting Grace to talk to me had been my biggest concern. It was here, in this exact spot, where she finally broke down and confessed everything to me. I still cherished that moment, holding her in my arms as we stared out at the ocean. Thanks to my current situation, I wasn't sure if I'd ever get another moment like that with her.
I jumped down, landing with a soft thud. Belatedly, I realized I had one small problem. Where was Grace? If she was still in the American embassy, then all my efforts would have been for nothing. I couldn't exactly march up to the gates and ask to see her, not without causing another scandal. Although I had snuck in through the back doors before, it was exponentially more dangerous now. I couldn't imagine how Ambassador Vincent or Ms. Chancellor or even Jamie would react if they saw me sneaking around the American embassy, trying to find Grace.
However, something, a gut feeling, told me she wasn't in the American embassy. If she wasn't there, then where could she possibly be? It wasn't like I could ask any of the Marines where she went, not without the risk of being recognized.
I didn't think she'd be out in the streets, not with all the crowds. Knowing her, she'd want to be alone, away from the chaos of the mobs. Usually, I wouldn't have been surprised to spot her sitting on top of the wall, taking things in from afar. However, the roars of the protestors were still audible from the wall, making that an unlikely place for her to be. Suddenly, I had an idea of where she might be. And luckily, I didn't have to take any of the main roads to get there.
I took a back route, following the backs of the embassies. I made sure to stay close to the wall, to lessen the risk of someone looking out one of the windows and spotting me. After a short walk, I made it to the beach. As I breathed in the cool, salty air, I looked up at the building that stood before me. Iran. The long-abandoned building that was no longer used, at least by the public. However, it was exactly the kind of place Grace would come to. Despite the slightly creepy undertones, it was the perfect place to find refuge and get a bit of peace and quiet. Sure enough, I spotted Grace on her own, slowly walking up the hill towards the wall.
"Gracie!" She turned around, looking right past me, and kept walking up the hill.
"Gracie, wait." I picked up the pace, forcing myself to sprint up the hill towards her. A million emotions ran through her eyes before she finally spoke.
"What are you doing out here? Are you crazy? You shouldn't leave the embassy. Wait – how did you leave the embassy?" We had reached the top of the hill, near the base of the cliffs, the Iranian embassy looming up above us. Even though the sounds of the mobs permeated throughout the city, down here, it was almost like we were completely alone.
"You aren't the only one who can climb the wall, you know," I said, with a shrug. Surely, that thought must have crossed her mind at some point. I stepped closer, pulling Grace over to the cliffs, near the Iranian fence, where we would be hidden from sight, at least to anyone who walked by the old gate in the wall.
"You shouldn't be here," Grace said.
"I had to come," I replied, shaking my head. As much as I appreciated her concern for me, I had to see her.
"No. It's not safe. We have to get you back before –"
"I came to say good-bye." Grace stopped dead in her tracks. I could almost see her mind spinning, the wheels turning as she processed what I had just told her.
"Oh, I see. Okay. I guess this time you'll have to stay in Moscow for good." It looked like it pained her to say that. Little did she know just how far from the truth it was.
"I will not go to Moscow," I said, biting the bullet.
"What do you mean?" I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what I had to tell her.
"I mean that, in fact, the opposite is happening. I am renouncing my diplomatic status. I'm going to turn myself in." Shock was written all over Grace's face, like she had just gotten hit with a bullet.
"No. You can't," Grace said, like she was trying to stop me. Unfortunately, that decision was already locked in place.
"My father is holding a press conference denouncing my immunity even as we speak," I said, with a nonchalant shrug. Nothing could change that fact now, not even Grace's wishes. "They are readying an official vehicle to take me to the central police station in about an hour. It is not an arrest. I will answer their questions, that's all. I have nothing to hide."
"This is insane!" What would be more insane was letting this drag out for all eternity, cowering under the guise of diplomatic immunity. The sooner I could prove my innocence, the better.
"No. It's not. It is for the best. I can turn myself in, and there can be a full investigation, without all the politics."
"This is Adria! There will always be politics!" I couldn't deny that. After all, Adria had always been at the heart of international politics. However, I had to make Grace see reason and make her understand that I was doing the right thing, not just for Adria and diplomatic relations, but for myself, and us.
"Grace, my father is worried what all of this unrest will lead to. It can't be good for diplomatic relations and –"
"Do you think I care about diplomatic relations?" Grace shouted, her emotions bleeding through her words. "Well, I don't, Alexei. And you shouldn't either. Think about it." Grace suddenly grabbed onto my shirt, closing the gap between us. It took everything in me not to push her away, to make sure she would be safe if I ended up taking the fall.
"None of the politicians care about what happened to Spence. Not what really happened," Grace continued. "They just want to make this problem go away. Make you go away." By now, she was so close to me, I could feel her frantic breaths against my chest. Every shallow inhale and exhale as she looked up at me, a pleading, desperate look in her eyes.
"You have to go back to Russia. Now! You have to get out of here." As much as I wanted to leave and escape my problems, I couldn't. I was already in too deep. The only thing I could do was face the consequences of my actions, alone.
"I will not run away," I said, shaking my head. Leaving was the cowardly move to make. I had to swallow my pride and face this like a man. I forced myself to step back from Grace, to keep myself from getting too attached in case I never saw her again.
"You can't go to jail, Alexei."
"Are you worried about me?" I asked, almost teasing her. Did she really think I was going to go to jail? This was just the official questioning; the trial, and any potential sentencing, was likely a long ways away. I had plenty of time to worry about that later.
"Yes!" Grace yelled, her voice devoid of any playfulness. I looked at her in shock. For so long, she seemed not to care about me, to the point where I accepted that she'd never have feelings for me. However, now that she admitted to being worried about me, I wasn't sure what to make of it. On the one hand, it was nice to have someone who was concerned about me. Yet, she was the last person I wanted to drag down with all my problems. If I got hurt in this huge mess, I didn't want to bring her down with me. She already had enough issues to deal with.
"They're saying someone killed Spence, Alexei. They think someone murdered Spence, and now you are conveniently willing to take the blame for it. Someone wants you to take the blame for it."
"You don't know that," I replied, shaking my head. Sure, Spence's death may have been an unfortunate accident. But would someone really go so far and want me to take the blame for it? To my knowledge, I didn't have any enemies. Maybe Spence, briefly, but we had eventually gotten over ourselves. I didn't think there was anyone out there, anyone with a burning hatred for me that would go so far as to incriminate me for something I did not do. Yes, it was convenient that there was video evidence of me yelling at Spence, making me the perfect scapegoat. For the public, it would be easy to put two and two together and assume I had murdered Spence. There was no way someone would have seen the video evidence then intentionally murdered Spence so they could blame me, right?
Grace's eyes flicked over at the worn-down, abandoned Iranian embassy next to us. I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking about. Surely, she couldn't be reminiscing about her first day here, when she had foolishly walked through the Iranian embassy to retrieve Lila's scarf. Again, I couldn't help but miss how much simpler life had been then, even though it was only a month ago. At the start of the summer, my biggest concern was getting a job to make my father happy. Now, I was at the center of an international scandal. That wasn't exactly how I expected my summer to turn out.
"I know it, Alexei. And if you'll stop and think about it, you'll know it, too." I appreciated her concern for me but I felt like she was taking things a bit too far. There was no way anyone would be after me, or Spence.
"Grace –"
"We don't know who killed him," Grace interrupted. "Or why. But do you really think this was a mugging or some random act of violence? You saw his body on the beach that day. Did that look like a boy who'd been in an accident?" She had a point. There was no denying the signs of struggle, the marks around Spence's neck. Yet, why anyone would want to target Spence, or have a reason for doing so in the first place was beyond me. As far as the world knew, I was the only one who had reason to kill Spence. What they didn't know was that I didn't do it. But who else would intentionally target Spence, to have a good enough reason for singling him out and murdering him? That puzzled me. However, that was the past and there was nothing Grace or I, or anyone could do to change it. The only thing I could do now was accept it and move on.
"I'll be okay, Gracie." I put my hands over hers, potentially the last time I'd get to do so. I squeezed her hands, letting know her I'd be okay. She looked up at me, almost like she believed me. However, her face hardened and her resolve suddenly changed.
"I'll be okay, Gracie," I said again, reassuring her. I was just going for a questioning. Nothing was going to happen to me, not until the police reviewed the evidence. I was still safe, for the time being. I had to make her see that. I squeezed her hands again but she let go, turning her back on me as she moved closer to the abandoned building next to us. I stared at her, watching as she looked up at the Iranian embassy, the old building that once used to be beautiful and stately before its great demise. Somehow, that gave me a sense of impending doom, like this was my last good moment before my own demise.
"My father said that as soon as the political aspect can be set aside, we will be able to pursue justice instead of vengeance. He says –"
"He wants the mob to go away, Alexei. And he's willing to sacrifice his own son to make it happen." The harsh reality of Grace's words hit me like a ton of bricks, making me turn away from her. I knew my father never liked me much. He had made his point extremely clear, that this whole situation was not good for diplomatic relations, or his reputation. I had never thought he'd go so far as to sacrifice me, in order to save his precious reputation, but now, I realized that possibility was not very far-fetched.
"It's not like that," I said. Surely, it wasn't. Yet, looking back, it was strange how my father had set up the press conference and the official questioning so quickly. He had always been a very efficient man, wanting to get things done in the quickest and most effective ways possible. But did he really want to get rid of me, just like that? That possibility was suddenly starting to become all too real, as a small part of me couldn't help but feel that he just wanted me out of his hair, maybe even out of his life. I wasn't sure if I could handle that truth yet, even though his behaviour towards me over the years clearly suggested it.
"It is exactly like that." For a second, a heavy silence fell between us, emphasizing the weight of Grace's words and just how much was truly at stake for me, and for us.
"Please do not be angry with me."
"You think I'm angry?" Grace snapped, taking me aback. She suddenly softened, her face completely changing. "Alexei, I'm terrified."
"I'm sorry," I said, realizing just how bad of an idea it was to say goodbye to her. If anything, it only made things worse between us. I shouldn't have left the embassy to see her in the first place. I didn't want to burden her and make her worry about me, not when she already had so much on her plate. Besides, I was probably endangering her life. After all, if she was caught talking to me, she could be arrested and charged with aiding a fugitive. I couldn't ruin her life like that. Maybe my father was right. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten involved with Grace. After all, none of this, Spence's death, the fight at the party, the mobs and protests, none of it would have happened if I hadn't developed feelings for Grace in the first place.
"I'm not thirsty anymore. Do you want this?" Grace held out a water bottle to me. It was almost like a sign of peace, a way of salvaging our friendship after that disastrous conversation. I gladly took it with a smile.
"Thank you," I said, taking a sip of the cold and refreshing water.
"Don't let it go to waste, you know. It might be your last taste of freedom." That was more like the Grace I knew. And who knew, maybe she was right. Maybe this would be my last meal before my death by execution. Maybe I was to be banished to a deserted island, never to return to Adria again.
I suddenly stumbled, even though I was standing on solid ground. My hand slipped, sending the empty bottle rolling down the long, sloped hill. To top it off, my head felt very cloudy, my thoughts swimming.
"Grace, I don't feel …" I managed to get out, before my tongue went numb and heavy in my mouth, rendering me incapable of speech. What was happening to me? Was it something I had eaten earlier? Or was the sleep deprivation from the last few nights starting to get to me? I was vaguely aware of Grace leading me past the Iranian fence, her arm around my waist. That was the only thing anchoring me to the world as I started losing control of myself. My vision blurred, my surroundings blending into one as the world spun around me. My muscles felt loose and limp, like they were made of jelly. My body flopped around aimlessly, no matter how much I willed it to move where I desired. My mind was clouded and foggy, fading as my thoughts became more sluggish. I felt myself falling, slowly at first, then faster and faster as my world completely faded to black.
I opened my eyes to a dark, black expanse, stretching as far as I could see. I blinked a few times, trying to figure out where I was and why my world was so dark. Was I dreaming? I tried to think back to what I had been doing before but came up empty-handed.
I blinked again. Suddenly, the black veil around me lifted, slowly fading to grey, creating shadowy figures that I couldn't make out. Yet, the shadowy figures gradually sharpened into people. I blinked in surprise when I recognized them. Megan and Noah. What were they doing here, in whatever world this was?
"Grace, Alexei can't stay here." I thought I heard Megan talking but I didn't fully process her words.
"Of course he can't. But he's harder to move than I thought he would be." Suddenly, I felt the sensation of falling then landing with a hard jerk. I instantly became aware of my limbs, feeling that my body was once again my own.
I tried stretching but found that I was unable to move my feet or my hands. That was strange. I blinked a few times, the world around me coming into greater focus. I saw what looked like grass around me and some bricks further ahead. I tried using my abdominal and leg muscles to propel myself forwards but didn't get anywhere. Where was I?
"No. I think what Megan was trying to say is that Alexei has to turn himself in." Those words, like a bucket of ice-cold water, reawakened all my senses, bringing me back into full consciousness and the real world. All of a sudden, my problems hit me full force. Spence. My father. The press conference. I searched through my memory, going back to the last thing that I remembered, sneaking out of the embassy to complete one last deed. And I suddenly realized who had been responsible for getting me in this state in the first place. Grace and that cold, sweet-tasting bottle of water. It had to have been the water. Why else would I have felt so dizzy just seconds after downing it? What had she put in it anyways? And why on Earth did she think it was a good idea to knock me out cold?
"Gracie," I choked out, wanting answers. My voice came out harsh and raspy but it was enough for Megan and Noah to turn their attention to me. Megan dropped to her knees and helped me sit up. I looked down and noticed my own belt binding my ankles together. How ironic. That would explain why I had been unable to move my feet earlier.
"What happened?" I asked.
"You took a little nap, my friend," Noah replied. I gave him a skeptical look as he dropped down, undoing the belt that held my feet together. Had Grace tied me up too? Jesus Christ, who did she think she was, knocking me out and tying me up? This was like an old Western drama, except with a massive reversal of gender roles.
"Alexei, don't yell," Grace said. I turned my attention to her, curious to see what she had to say for herself. "Just listen. You have to listen to me. Please. You have to go back to Moscow." Instantly, I snapped to attention, remembering what I had told her. I was not going to be a coward and run away. I was going to man up and go for a questioning, to prove that I had nothing to hide.
"No!" I shouted, despite my raspy, dry voice. I stood up, even though the world around me was still spinning. I forced myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to find my balance. "No. I will not run. I will do the honourable thing for my country and for yours. I must do this!"
I suddenly recalled something Noah had said earlier. What did he mean, 'I had taken a little nap'? How long had I been out for? "What time is it?"
Noah quickly glanced down at his watch. "It's time." Noah looked right at me, giving me a somber nod.
"Time to face the music," I muttered in Russian. It was now or never. I started down the hill, heading towards the street.
"Alexei, don't do this," Grace said. There was a pleading note in her voice, like she really didn't want me to do it. However, she didn't understand that I had to do this, if I wanted to stand any chance at saving myself.
"I must do this," I said, continuing down the hill. There was no way I could turn back now. Not when I was already late and this was a done deal. My fate was in the hands of this questioning. I very well couldn't ditch at the last second, not after my father had likely pulled many strings to set it up.
"No, you don't have to. Okay. So you don't want to go back to Moscow. Fine. Then stay here. Lay low until we can figure out who really killed Spence. Just –"
"It is a matter of honour, Grace." I turned towards her, begging her to understand. I had to show the world that I was innocent and had nothing to hide. After all, it was the honourable thing to do. I would not back down and hide from everyone like a coward. There was no way I was running back to Moscow. That would be admitting defeat.
"Honour is overrated." Grace really didn't understand, did she? The way my father had raised me, honour was everything. I was going to adhere to that principle for as long as possible.
"I will cooperate with their investigation, and the truth will come out."
"No!" Grace grabbed my arm. She lunged forward and blocked my path. "It won't if they don't want the truth to come out."
"Who are 'they', Gracie? Tell me." Was she crazy? What was Grace so worked up about? Of course the truth would come out if I cooperated. After all, there was nothing a diplomatic questioning couldn't solve, right?
"I … I don't know. But don't go, Alexei. I don't know why, but I know it is a huge mistake. Please, don't go." I looked over at the Russian embassy, surrounded by a mob and a crowd of reporters. I had no doubt that my father was already at the police station, awaiting my arrival. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced down the street to see a long black car with Russian flags rolling down the street.
"I'm late." I took a second look at the car and almost recoiled in surprise when I saw who was in the driver's seat. Mikhail. I should have known that he would be driving me to the central police station. He was my father's personal driver and was responsible for any and all official chauffeuring required by me or my father. He didn't seem to have seen me though. His eyes were focused straight ahead, as he carefully pulled through the mob and into the courtyard of the Russian embassy.
"I should be on my way to the police station by now," I continued, looking over at Megan and Noah. It was time. My final goodbyes in case I never made it back to Adria.
"It'll be okay," Noah said, glancing over at Grace. "We'll take care of her." He was a good guy. I hadn't known him very well until recently but I knew he would make sure to check in on Grace, ensuring that her demons wouldn't overtake her.
"Yeah," Megan said. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. I couldn't help but think that Lila would have done the exact same thing. I knew Lila was strong and that she would deal with this just fine. However, a small part of me still wished I could say goodbye to her, to let her know that I would always be her friend.
Finally, I turned towards Grace. My heart broke when I saw tears rolling down her cheeks. In that moment, I realized she really did care about me, more than I ever would have imagined. I cradled her face in my hands, using my thumbs to wipe away the tears.
"I am okay, Gracie," I reassured her. "Do you hear me? I'm okay. I'm going to be okay. No one is trying to hurt me." Grace looked up at me, tears shining in her eyes. There was also a look of pain and fear, like it hurt her to watch me leave. Looking at Grace, I was suddenly reminded of that feeling I had in my father's office, where it felt like something was off about this whole press conference. Based on everything she had said, it sounded like she thought the same thing. That weird, unsettling feeling slowly came back to me but I forced myself to shake it off. Nothing was going to go wrong. After all, what harm could come with a civil questioning?
I took a deep breath, knowing that I had kept everyone waiting for far too long. I looked towards the crowd and the black car idling in front of the Russian embassy. It was time for me to meet my fate.
As I took a second look at the car, Mikhail turned his head, his eyes meeting mine through the driver's side window. He smiled and waved, before his face took on a look of confusion. He raised his eyebrows at me, no doubt questioning why I was outside the embassy, with friends nonetheless, and why my suit was dirty and torn. I gave him my best apologetic look, figuring I would explain to him on the car ride there. Surely, he'd understand why I had to see Grace one last time.
"We're going to figure out who did it," Grace said. "We're going to find Spence's killer. Before it's too late."
"What do you think's going to happen to me, Gracie?" I asked. It was too late for anything else to go wrong. I headed down the street, towards the Russian embassy. I felt confident that the questioning would go well and that I would be proven innocent.
However, a low rumbling noise quickly proved me wrong. My eyes snapped to the car, where I saw Mikhail's face contorted with fear. Once again, his eyes met mine. I was just barely able to make out what he said before the car exploded with a sharp bang, taking him with it. Ya lyublyu tebya, Lyosha. I love you, Alexei.
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will be up between Feb. 16 and Feb. 25.
So Alexei got drugged (by Grace, nonetheless) and Mikhail is dead. I hope I did justice to Mikhail's death, especially with how I portrayed his character. What do you think happens next?