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CHAPTER II. The Winter Soldier
Elina sat in the cold, sterile room, her gaze fixed on a spot on the wall where the paint had chipped away, revealing the dull metal beneath. The room was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her, suffocating her thoughts, leaving her alone with the memories that haunted her. The echoes of the explosion still reverberated in her mind, the searing heat of the flames, the deafening roar that had swallowed everything in its path.
She had done everything right. She had followed every order, executed every command with precision. And yet, it had all crumbled in a heartbeat. Antonia's lifeless body, small and fragile in the midst of the wreckage, was an image that had burned itself into her consciousness. Dreykov, his body broken and bleeding, had been rushed to a private hospital, his life hanging by a thread. And Elina-Elina was the only one who had walked away unscathed, physically at least. But she knew, deep down, that she had not truly survived.
Across from her, Ms. Smirnova sat at a cold metal table, her eyes sharp and probing, fingers tapping a steady rhythm against the surface. The sound was like a clock ticking down, counting the moments until Elina would have to speak, to explain what had gone so terribly wrong. But Elina remained silent, her mouth dry, the words trapped in her throat.
Ms. Smirnova's gaze never wavered, her expression one of growing impatience. "I'll start then," she said, leaning forward, her voice laced with a sharp edge. The scent of her citrus perfume was overwhelming, cloying in the confined space. "What happened?"
Elina's mind scrambled for an answer, any answer that could explain the unexplainable. But how could she articulate the chaos, the fear, the betrayal that had unfolded in that apartment? How could she explain that the person responsible for the carnage was none other than her own sister, Natasha?
Ms. Smirnova's sigh cut through Elina's thoughts like a blade. "You know the drill, Anhelina. Mission overview, no exceptions. Whether it was a success or a failure, we need to know every detail. Now, what happened?"
Elina took a slow, shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "The apartment had been tampered with before we arrived. I believe it was an electrical fire."
Ms. Smirnova's expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she leaned back in her chair. "So, you're telling me a faulty wiring job just so happened to blow up an apartment building, killing the General's daughter and nearly killing him too? I don't buy it, Anhelina. You need to tell me the truth, or I can't help you."
Elina's gaze drifted away, her mind spinning. She couldn't betray Natasha, couldn't reveal what she had seen. But the memory of Natasha's face, the cold determination in her eyes as she triggered the explosion, was seared into her mind. How could her sister have done this? And why?
