Chapter 97

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There had been a change of plans. 

Hilarion, now sitting in an American hotel room, watched from the kitchen counter as Thaddeus slept on the nearby couch. Again, he found himself wishing that Thaddeus had been his son, instead of Artem.

Artem is and always will be nothing short of a disgrace, Hilarion thought bitterly. 

Blinking, Hilarion fetched his laptop and set it on the counter, opening it. He turned it on and loaded Thaddeus's FSB file and perused it briefly. 

Thaddeus had everything- in fact, he seemed to be the perfect tool for the job on which Hilarion intended to embark. 

Much more perfect than Artem would ever be.

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