𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬|| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫

Chapter Twenty-Two

After what seemed like forever, but in a good way, I and winter pulled apart from the hug. The thing was even though I just had a memory and winter somehow believed me, that doesn't stop us from doing what we are supposed to do. Our mission. That's what we were made to do. Kill people.

"Вы спите на кровати. Я буду спать на диване." He told me and the small smirk that played on his lips disappeared. We were. We were back to being emotionless machines.
(You sleep on the bed. I'll sleep on the couch.)

"Мы должны уехать завтра днем. Так что не будет подозрений, но и нам здесь долго не задержаться." He nodded and went over to the couch and lay down while I went to my bag and grabbed an oversized shirt they gave me, for when I train. And I also grabbed a pair of shorts, also for when I train.
(We have to leave tomorrow afternoon. So it won't be too suspicious, but we also can't stay here long.)

When I got in bed I was tossing and turning for about a couple of minutes before I could get to sleep. When I was finally asleep my night was plagued by nightmares.

I was in the shooting range in the base in Siberia. I was shooting a SIG-Sauer P22OST. I was throwing it between my hand using different angles all that.

And I was hitting the target perfectly every time. After a while of using that gun, I moved onto a Glock 19. Bit of a simpler gun, for my liking but it still does the job perfectly. Again I was throwing it between my hand and using different angles. I also started walking down the shooting range and shooting the targets as I walked past them.

After what felt like hours, I walked out of the shooting range and picked up a couple of daggers, at this point, I could feel someone's presence behind me. I spun around to find Karpov with his hands behind his back looking at my train, he just simply nodded and I continued training. It was one of my first single training sessions as I was nervous as fuck, I started throwing daggers at the fake dummies and doing imaginary fights with my daggers.

I was so nervous about disappointing my handler that I let nerves get in the way, I kept dropping the daggers on the floor and I could feel his gaze at the back of my head. He cleared his throat and I spun around, hand behind my back looking at him but not in the eyes.

"что это был за солдат?" He asked in a stern voice, which sent shivers down my spine.
(What was that soldier?)

"Я совершил ошибку, сэр. Мне очень жаль, что я больше не вернусь." I said in the most emotionless way you can possibly think.
(I made a mistake sir. I'm very sorry I won't make it again.)

He hummed in reply and I continue and it kept happening, I kept dropping the daggers. Eventually, the guards came and dragged me out of the room and I was kicking and screaming.

That was when I shot up from my bed. Panting like a dog, I was also sweating a lot. I looked at the clock on the wall and it read 3:53 am. I just groaned and lay back down and tried to stay awake again. But I was too tired and my eyelids became too heavy for me to keep open. But thankful this time I was able to sleep without a nightmare.

I woke up the next morning to three solid knocks on the door, I jumped out of the bed and grabbed one of the dressing gowns that was draped across the back of a chair outside the bathroom. Winter was half asleep on the couch. I walked over to the door and opened it slightly and poked my head out.