Old Scars, New Wounds

Chapter Six

Simon was missing something here, and it made him feel extremely uneasy. 

From her entrance in the interrogation, Celeste had displayed an advantage over information that she still wasn't sharing. But when he looked at Price for understanding, he realised that his own confusion was not mirrored, and the Captain was also in the know about whatever was going on. Well, at least more in the know than him.

"Who?" Simon repeated himself, trying to grab Celeste's attention. 

Celeste didn't look at him once. Instead, her eyes stayed trained on Price, honing for any change in expression that could reveal the words he wasn't saying. 

"Oleg Volkov."

Simon blinked. He looked over to Gaz and Soap, who both drew the same reaction and conclusion. They had heard the name, but didn't really know it.

But apparently, Viper did. 

The American immediately came up from where he had been by the dead hostage, charging for Celeste. The agent had been distracted by whatever mental battle she had engaged Price in, and couldn't move away fast enough when Viper grabbed her by the collar and shoved her hard against the wall. 

"You bitch," Viper growled as Celeste grunted and tried to push him away. "How do you know, how could you possibly-"

Simon reached for Viper's shoulder and yanked him back. The man tumbled to the ground, glaring at Simon intensely, but Simon ignored him and took a step closer to Celeste.

"Zhao," he said, looking over to Price for help. But his captain still had a hard, unreadable expression on his face. Simon turned back, watching Celeste clear her throat and stand up straighter. "What's going on?"

"Yeah, Zhao," Viper practically spat, getting back up for round two. "What's going on-"

Soap grabbed him this time, much to his protest, and forced him down. 

"The tablet showed some transactions," Gaz began slowly, unsure. His eyes flitted across the people in the room. "Not entire ones. I'm sure somewhere in the rubble a computer with clearer numbers got burned. But she came across one line...the cell had received ten million in U.S. dollars from someone called 'The Wolf.'"

The Wolf. 

Volkov.

Simon's Russian was rusty, but that wasn't hard to guess.

"Um...you can probably explain the rest better...." Gaz's voice trailed off as he looked over to Celeste. 

Simon could see her struggling. Like every moment she spent in the room was out of sheer force and will, and her eyes blocked out every possible window of thought to the prying eye. He had no idea what was going on in her head. 

"Oleg Volkov," she finally enunciated, the words leaving her mouth clear as day. But with every syllable that rolled past her tongue, she seemed drunk off of bad memories. "He calls himself a broker, sometimes a salesman, but he's a terrorist."

Celeste paused, eyes glinting like the hilt of a knife.

"No, he's not a terrorist. He's barely a man. Oleg Volkov is a sadistic piece of shit, and does things like putting weapons in the hands of terrorists just so he can watch the world burn."

"And he's involved in these transactions?" Soap asked, still reining an angry Viper in.

"Yeah," she cleared her throat, blinking a few times. "Yeah, the uh....On the tablet, I saw The Wolf's name and then the amount he had given the cell. Obviously, if the cell was buying the weapon, they wouldn't receive money. For a second, I thought nothing of it, but then I saw it was from The Wolf. Oleg Volkov. He signs off all his shady shit with that moniker, and it was the only Russian connection in the transactions. The hostage's reaction only confirmed my suspicions."