Dinastiya Tested // 3rd Book of the Takaryev Trilogy

Chapter 60

Weary viridian eyes blinked to life and peered into the dark through the lenses of a pair of rectangular glasses.

"Hm," said Ravil, testing his voice. "Wasn't I supposed to die?" 

A stinging punch to the side of his face shut him up.

Or not. "What the hell-"

Another punch, then a familiar voice. "Listen to me, Ravil. You. Are. Dead." 

"Yes, and you are?" Ravil shot back. He was unamused, and not willing to take crap from anyone. 

"If you don't shut up, I'll put a bullet through your head for real," the voice replied.

"Give me your name," Ravil demanded, glasses flashing. 

"Take a wild guess, Myronovich." 

"That's not my name." Ravil growled.

"Ah, but it is your patronymic," The voice's owner flicked on a light, and Ravil saw who was speaking to him. 

Leopold Alexandrov. 

"You devil!" Ravil muttered.

Leopold smirked. "Hey, it's my specialty. Look, Ravil- the outside world has been told that you're dead. You have no contact with anyone, and for as long as I desire, the four walls of this cell are all you're going to see. So you'd better get used to it."

"What about Artem? Has he been told?" Ravil queried.

Leopold briefly glanced down at his watch. "Konechno," he said. "I do believe he's delivering the eulogy at your funeral as we speak." 

Ravil shuddered as he imagined that. He wanted desperately to scream to the world and tell them, "I'm not dead! Stop the funeral! Call it all off! I'm alive!" But he couldn't. Maybe he'd never be able to. It worried him, to say the least. He wondered how Artem was coping, frankly terrified by the possibilities. 

"Why?" Ravil asked.

Leopold grinned. "I'm afraid I can't tell you, Ravil. But you're smart. You'll figure it out if you put your mind to it." 

Ravil recalled being told the same thing by Taras and Marco not so long ago, when he'd been held in another bunker on American soil. "That's what all you bastards say,"

"Keep calling me a bastard and I'll not only torture you, but starve you as well." Leopold threatened.

Ravil shrugged. It seemed as if he'd die in this blasted cell either way, and if he had to die, his human nature told him that he wanted to die quickly. He'd much rather have a bullet to the head than starvation. "Alright. So when do we get to the torture part?" 

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" Leopold sneered, absentmindedly pushing up his round-lensed glasses.

"You can thank the FSB for that," Ravil retorted. "Getting on your nerves yet?"

Leopold didn't answer, only scowled at him. 

"Good," Ravil grinned.