Return to Russia

Chapter 8

After about an hour of slicing into flesh, I decide Daniel really doesn't know anything else, and Rodion would rather die before he gives away any more secrets. Due to his lack of knowledge, Daniel's in pretty good shape, but Rodion's on the verge of unconsciousness; I'd wager he had about 12 pints of blood in him before we started, and now almost 2 pints decorate the floor and drain. In order to give his wounds enough time to clot, I head outside to rejoin the others.

Clint's alone, casually leaning up against the driver's side door, talking quietly into his phone; it appears Charlie and Isaac decided to wait inside the limo. As soon as he spots me, Clint terminates his call.

"How'd it go?" He grins, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It's no use," I sigh. "Daniel clearly knows nothing, and Rodion clammed up real quick."

"That sucks. How bad do they look?"

"Well, Rodion could probably use some medical attention," I chuckle darkly. "Want to help me bring them out? I can call Nick to arrange transport."

"Of course. Lead the way!"

We clean the knives in a nearby sink—which, shockingly, is still connected to a water supply—and chloroform my victims for hopefully the last time. With a little bit of elbow grease and a whole lot of determination, we drag the unconscious men back outside and into the limo. Obvious alarm shines in the kids' eyes when we hand over Daniel and Rodion, but they quickly recover and secure the prisoners. Clint and I head back inside to attempt to remove any trace that we were here; it's bad enough that Elizaveta knows where we went, we don't want anyone knowing what we did. Semi-recreational torture is frowned upon in most societies.

Once we're done, I call Nick to let him know I'm finished with Daniel and Rodion. We discuss our next course of action and finally decide to send them to one of our various raft prisons relatively nearby. Only somewhat satisfied with the outcome of this endeavor, we toward the meeting point. About halfway there, my curiosity gets the better of me.

"Who were you talking to on the phone earlier?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"Just Steve. He was wondering how things were going and wanted to update us on what's been happening while we've been gone." Clint runs a hand through his hair. "Basically, they've only discovered where Timur lives, and since that took them forever to find, they haven't even started cross-checking names of Timur and Rodion's mutual friends. It probably won't help much, but I told Steve Jordan's real name so that they can look into him, too."

"Smart. Too bad they haven't been able to do much without us."

"At least we can find Timur," Clint shrugs.

"I guess. I was hoping for more information, but we'll have to make do with what we're given."

"You're not just talking about Timur, are you?" Clint leans closer to study my expression. "I knew it! Nat, don't be so hard on yourself! Rodion gave us a lot of information, and it's not your fault that you couldn't get more out of him!"

"But I'm supposed to be this master interrogator that can get anything out of anybody, and I've failed!"

"You didn't fail! We learned a lot today because of your interrogation skills, including the fact that Rodion is fiercely loyal to the Cult of the Dagger. Getting more information from him would probably be almost as difficult as getting anything from you."