A/N: new chappie! FINALLY! enjoy!

Chapter 15: Last Mission

Kirill shoved the door open to find Bourne waiting in Sasha's car. He was thankful Sasha wasn't there. Then again, he knew Bourne wouldn't allow her to come with them on such a dangerous drive – she would only get in the way. Kirill opened the passenger door and climbed in without a word, strapping on his seat belt as Bourne started the engine and turned into the icy streets of Moscow. For a few moments the two said nothing as Bourne drove, both concentrating their stares ahead and Kirill couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering.

Why was Jason Bourne, of all people, helping him? He was the man that had killed the woman he loved back in India. He had chased him in Moscow and tried to kill him…twice. What had changed? He couldn't take not knowing anymore, although he had a feeling Bourne wouldn't reveal much, if anything.

"Why are you helping me?" Kirill finally asked, neither one looking away from the view ahead of them. "I killed your woman and tried killing you twice. Not to mention I framed you."

Bourne was silent for a moment and Kirill said nothing as he waited for an explanation. He would get one eventually, he could tell.

"You want out, don't you?" Bourne finally asked, making Kirill shoot a frown to him, but the other man only continued staring ahead as he drove. "It's not easy."

"But…I-"

"Live and let live, Kirill," Bourne interrupted. "It may have been only a month ago, but I have better things to worry about than a grudge. Crashing you into that column pretty much finished off any rage I may have been harboring anyway."

Kirill couldn't help but scoff at that before turning to the view ahead again and nodded in acceptance. The rest of the trip to, he only knew where, was silent until Bourne stopped across the street from a hotel, making Kirill frown at it before turning to the other man.

"This is where he's staying," Bourne explained. "He works from the hotel room."

"Zvukov o prave," (Sounds about right) Kirill muttered.

"Your gun is in the glove box," Bourne explained, and the other man reached forward to open it and examine the handgun, pulling out the silencer in the box as well. "I can get you into the room-"

"No need," Kirill cut in, slipping the magazine from the gun to make sure it was loaded then slipped it back in and cocked the gun. "I can get myself in. You've done enough, trust me. Happen to have the room number?"

"Twenty-three," Bourne replied as Kirill shoved the gun into his coat pocket and unbuckled his seat belt.

"Spasibo," he nodded, climbing out of the car and shutting the door behind him before leaning into the open window to request, "Take care of Lily if anything happens to me. If anyone can keep her safe it would be you."

"I will," Bourne nodded then smirked, subtly, "But I won't tell her."

Kirill gave another scoff before standing tall and stepping around the car and toward the street. He quickly pulled the hood of the sweater he was wearing under his jacket over his head. Even though his appearance had changed, it would be just his luck that someone would recognize him. He kept his head down, a hand in one pocket with the gun as he shoved the door open and strolled inside. Once through the door he went to the front desk, still keeping his gaze down.

"Kak ya mogu vam pomoch΄, ·eer?" (How can I help you, Sir?) the clerk asked.

"Nomer 23, pozhaluĭsta," (Room 23, please) Kirill muttered, and the clerk went to typing at his computer.

"Mne ochen΄ zhal΄. Konmata 23 zanyato. No nomer 25, ryadom s nim, mozhno," (I'm sorry. Room 23 is occupied. But room 25, next to it, is available)

"Shtraf," (Fine) Kirill nodded. All he wanted was to get up to that floor without suspicion.

He quickly received a key and only had to sign one paper before he continued through the lobby and toward the elevator to take him to the third floor. Once the doors shut he quickly checked his gun, before shoving it back into his pocket when the door opened again. He still kept his head down as he stepped down the hall. That familiar thrill he'd always felt before pulling a job returned for a moment before the magnitude of what he was about to do hit him again.

Kirill stepped in front of the door of room twenty four and acted as though he was going to head inside, but he was eyeing the door next to his, planning a surprise attack. Stepping into his room he shut the door and leaned back against it with a heavy sigh, a sigh of exhaustion, but tension still ran through him. He had to keep that edge. His mind strayed to Lily, but only for a second before he formed his plan of attack, piece by piece.

Shoving his hand into his jacket pocket again, he turned to the door and flung it open, marching out into the hall. The few steps he took to the door next to him felt like he was in slow motion as he pulled out his gun and aimed it at the door before kicking it in. Not his best entrance, he was sure, but he had to work with winging it. Quickly spotting two suited goons he fired at them. One bullet each. Both down before they could even think to pull their guns. He marched toward the bedroom where he took out two more goons before they could fire, then aimed his gun at one more man standing at the foot of the bed, his back toward Kirill.

"Povernis΄ medlenno," (Turn around slowly) he ordered, recognizing the man, even from behind.

"Pochemu by prost one ubit΄ menya, Kirill?" (Why not just kill me, Kirill?) the man scoffed, unmoving. "Vy poluchili eto daleko." (You've gotten this far)

"Svoyu ochered΄, vokrug," (Turn around) Kirill repeated.

Finally, the man turned, slowly. His expensive suit was flecked with blood from his men being shot so close to him, and there were even a few drops on his glasses.

"You should have taken my offer, Kirill," Gretkov said. "I really didn't want to have to kill someone who worked so hard and so diligently for me."

"Why me?" Kirill couldn't help but ask. "Why would you waste your time trying to get me back? You had better connections."

"Better than a Secret Service assassin?" Gretkov smirked. "You're too modest, Kirill." He slowly stepped toward the bathroom door, Kirill keeping his aim on him the entire time as he turned to face him again. "So, what will you do?"

"I'll make you a deal," Kirill shot back. "If you swear to stop hunting me, I'll eave you alive. But the second I'm threatened again, I'll come after you, and I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head."

"I can't imagine why you haven't done that now," Gretkov retorted. "Has that girl changed you that much?"

"Leave her out of this," Kirill warned, gripping the gun a little harder in his hand in anger.

"That will be difficult," Gretkov replied and quickly reached through the opening between the bathroom door and its frame. Kirill almost pulled the trigger, but stopped short when Gretkov shoved a body in his way, making his eyes widen in disbelief.

Lily's eyes were overflowing with silent tears as they streamed down her face and over the duct tape covering her mouth. Her hands were bound with a plastic pull-tie and her hair was mussed, her face bruised at the edges of the tape where she'd been thrown and slapped about. His heart clenched at the sight, and the knowledge that he was the one to blame for her predicament. But how did she get there?

"You think we wouldn't find your little hiding place?" Gretkov smirked in triumph as Lily let her head bow in shame. "We have eyes everywhere. Bright, beautiful brown eyes that adore watching you."

At that comment it suddenly hit him. Penny Hunter.

"Did you really think she was on that plane by coincidence?" Gretkov wondered, seemingly reading Kirill's thoughts. "I paid her off. I knew the CIA was watching your every move, and using only her to do it. So while she fed her reports to her superiors, for a small fee, she copied those reports and sent them to me. Didn't you ever wonder how you were being found everywhere you went?"

It was all making sense to him now. If he was being honest, he really hadn't thought about it. He only saw it as running for his life. It was a natural thing for him, he was sorry to say. But now, everything was becoming clearer. Nothing after that car crash in the tunnel had been coincidence, except one thing: Lily.

"Now, put your gun down," Gretkov continued, bringing Kirill back from his thoughts when he pulled out a gun from behind his back and aimed it at Lily's head, resuming, "or I'll blow her head off."

Lily's head shot up to stare at Kirill in pure terror as he tried aiming for Gretkov's head, but he was holding her in a position that blocked the shot. Kirill gritted his teeth, as he glanced from Gretkov's expectant stare to Lily's frightened one. He suddenly noticed her gaze darting downward and kept his gaze on her. She was trying to tell him something. His gaze shot to her hands and she slowly lowered them, left hand patting her thigh. He gave a subtle frown as she gestured with her right hand as though she were pulling a trigger.

It clicked and Kirill had a sudden inner struggle with himself as his gaze turned back to Gretkov. He still couldn't get the shot, and Lily was giving him a way to get it, but he couldn't do it. He wouldn't.

"You want her to die, Kirill?" Gretkov snapped, impatiently. "Put the gun down."

Lily stomped her foot, her emerald eyes glaring at Kirill, silently ordering him to do as she said. Gretkov frowned to her in confusion and Kirill suddenly realized he had no other choice. Lowering his aim, his heart clenched painfully as he pulled the trigger, and it was even more painful when Lily screamed in pain, but the plan worked. She fell to the floor, her arm instantly yanked from Gretkov's grip and Kirill lifted his gun, pulling the trigger one more time. Gretkov's head snapped back at the impact of the bullet between his eyes and the force was so much that he fell back onto the floor.

Kirill ran toward Lily as she tried to sit up and he knelt in front of her, setting the gun down to help her sit up before taking the tape off of her mouth. It peeled away easily, the moisture from her tears and sweat weakening the adhesive on it.

"Kirill, I'm sorry!" she sobbed as he worked at her bonds. "These two men came in after you left! They had guns-!"

"It's alright, Liliya," Kirill interrupted in a shaken tone. "It was not your fault."

He said nothing else as she sobbed, half from the pain in her leg and half from the whole ordeal of being kidnapped and held hostage. Seeing him struggle with her bonds she slowed her sobbing to help.

"He has a knife," she breathed, catching his gaze to hers as she nodded toward Gretkov's body. "Left front pocket."

Kirill shuffled toward the body and reached inside the pocket to find a pocket knife and quickly cut through the plastic-tie, releasing her. She threw her arms around him as he dropped the knife and he caught her in his arms, holding her tightly as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"I was afraid he'd kill you," she shuddered, and he felt guilt sweep over him again at what he'd done to her. "I knew you wouldn't drop your gun, but I couldn't let you play the martyr, so I thought- That plan worked, didn't it?"

Kirill said nothing and just held her close, thankful she was alive. She lifted a hand to sift through his hair and raised her head to press her lips to his ear.

"Don't feel guilty, my love," she whispered. "I'm glad you shot me. If you hadn't, Gretkov would have shot you. There was no other way."

He suddenly heard sirens outside and he said nothing as he pushed her off of him, gently. He grabbed the knife and the gun he'd used, stuffed both of them in his jacket pockets then stood over Lily, holding out his hand to her. She didn't question him as she took his hand and she struggled to stand before he swept her off her feet and hurried toward the door.

Kirill marched toward room twenty five and set Lily down, supporting her on one side as he pulled out his key to get into the room. Once he had the door open he lifted Lily again and hurried in, just as he heard the elevator ping for the police arriving. He shut the door with his foot and walked Lily toward the bed to set her down, gently.

"I'll be back," he assured her, lifting a hand to stroke her hair away from her face. "I need to get something to stop the bleeding."

Lily was about to say something but he swiftly stepped away and headed toward the bathroom to find a first aid kit. A knock on the door made Lily jump and stare it, but when she saw Kirill dart his head around the corner and hold a finger to his lips, she kept silent.

"Politsiya," (Police) a voice called on the other side.

Lily felt her heart pound in her chest but said nothing as Kirill remained in his spot, watching her and remaining silent as well. They soon heard footsteps walking away from the door and Lily gave out a sigh of relief as Kirill headed back toward her with the first aid kit he'd found and a wet cloth. She watched him as he sat on the bed and opened the kit, pulling out the roll of gauze and disinfectant.

"Kirill," she called, but he said nothing as he closed the case and turned to unbutton her pants. She gripped his hands, bringing his gaze to hers in wonder and she only pulled his hands toward her until his whole body followed and she smiled when his face was inches from hers.

"Kiss me," she whispered. "Please?"

"Liliya-"

"Just so I know you're not mad at me for making you shoot me in the leg," she cut in, making him frown. "I need you to kiss me, please."

He was about to object and tell her that he wasn't angry at her. That he was angry at himself for doing it. But, he bit his tongue and instead, leaned forward to gently press his lips to hers. Her arms instantly wrapped around his neck to pull him closer, and he slid his arms around her to support her back as he sat her up. His tongue slid smoothly between her lips, making her moan in approval before he pulled away, slowly. She groaned in disappointment, but it was soon silenced when his warm, wet lips began trailing kisses over her neck and shoulder. He wanted to soothe away the day's activities and he was doing a fine job so far, she thought.

Kirill left one last kiss behind her ear before gently laying her down again and turning to her pants. Unbuttoning them her started slowly pulling them down until the wound on her thigh was exposed and he took the cloth to wipe away the blood around it, then set the cloth under her leg where the bullet had gone through the other side. He grabbed the disinfectant and poured it over her wound, making her growl, loudly in pain then glare at him for the lack of warning, but he still said nothing as he lifted the gauze to start wrapping it around her leg.

Lily watched him work, both in silence. She could have started asking him questions, but then she realized, she had no questions to ask. Everything had been explained. Well, there was always that one question…

"Kirill," she called, meekly and he gave an affirmative noise. "What now?"

He tied off her bandage and began putting things away in the kit before setting on the stand next to the bed and leaning over her, staring at her.

"Now," he sighed, taking off his jacket and draping it over her before continuing, "I don't know."

A/N: reviews?