The Last Romanov (Under Editing)

The Petersburg Front

For the first time since the formation of their plan to take out the line of succession, the group that would be performing the mission was together. And never, before, had Virtanen had less hope about what was about to happen than he did in that moment.

The group was... well, to put it quite frankly, it was a group of people that never would've been assembled had it not been for those circumstances. And never should've been assembled. Ever. Nadezhda was normal enough, he supposed, and Nadya was only slightly off, those days. One of them, however, was borderline insane, and the other had stepped over that border a long, long time ago. Arkadiy was nice enough, sure, but he had this odd thing he did where he would lock doors, unlock them, then lock them again. He also refused to sit with his back facing the door. Or the window. Or anything. He wouldn't even sit in the circle with them: he insisted on dragging his chair into a corner of the room and sitting there, his arms crossed, practically sulking.

And then, there was Arttüri. Arttüri, obviously, had a few screws loose, and had for a long time, now. That day, he was... playing with some shoestrings. It looked like that old cat's cradle game his daughters at home played, except he was playing it by himself. Frankly, he just looked like he was getting his fingers tangled up in it, cursing at it as it foiled his masterful plans for God knew what.

"Arttüri, what the hell are you doing?" Virtanen asked after he'd had enough of watching Arttüri make a fool of himself.

Arttüri looked up at Virtanen, raising an eyebrow. As if he were wasting his time by asking such a stupid question.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Arttüri asked as he tried to manouvre the string with his fingers, again. All he managed to do, though, was get his fingers even more tangled up, making him curse.

"It looks like you're trying to make an ass out of yourself," Virtanen said. "Are you trying to tell me it's exactly how it looks, or that it's nothing like how it looks?"

Arttüri got a look on his face like he'd just licked a lemon. "You know, Virtanen, girls would probably like you a whole lot more if you weren't such an asshat."

Now, if it was Virtanen's turn to give Arttüri a look. "Arttüri... I'm married. With two children. You do realize that, don't you?"

Before that idiotic conversation could continue, Nadezhda put a hand on his shoulder. "Virtanen, I think it's time we get started."

Virtanen nodded, straightening himself up and standing up a little taller. Right: it was time to address the troops.

He looked around the room at the miserable band of misfits that surrounded him. "If you guys don't mind, I think it's about time to get started."

Everyone took their respective seats. All of them were in the circle, except of Arkadiy.

"I don't suppose you'd like to join us, would you?" Virtanen said, looking over at him. "This conversation involves you, too."

Arkadiy simply grunted.

"That means no," Arttüri translated.

"I figured as much," Virtanen grumbled, looking at everybody else. "Well, I don't think I need to do any introductions, so we'll just get right to business. We've got a plan to take Anastasia and the rest of the line of succession out, and we need you guys to be part of it."

Nobody spoke for a few moments. Virtanen could practically hear the crickets chirping.

Arkadiy raised his hand. "Do you mean kill?"

Virtanen sighed. "Yes. I thought the implication was obvious."

A few more moments of silence, then Nadya raised her hand.

"You guys don't need to raise your hands," Virtanen said, looking around at everybody. In slight disbelief that he even had to clarify that in the first place. "We're all adults here, not school children, so... if you want to say something, just say it."

Nadya put her hand down after he said that. "Why us? Why this group of people, out of everybody you could've picked?"

I wish I knew, Virtanen said. Sadly, our ranks aren't exactly full of people willing to do this, so this is who we got stuck with.

Nadezhda, thank God, was able to save him from that question. "Because we needed our best people on this. And not only our best: the people we knew are ready and would be willing to die for the cause. And you guys were the ones that came out on top."

Arkadiy snorted. "That's not true and you know it, Krupskaya."

"Whether or not that's true, this is the group of people we have, and that's that," Virtanen said. "We have four targets between you four: General Horacek, Admiral Kirilov, Air Marshall Novak, and Commander Zelenko. I will make sure that the Dagmar is out of the way so we can remake the government in our image. Does anybody have any preferences on their targets?"

Nobody said anything. The lack of conversation between the people in that group wasn't exactly reassuring.

Nadya raised her hand, again. "Leave me Zelenko."

Virtanen was surprised, to say the least. The girl was the least fit out of all of them, as far as he was concerned, and yet, she wanted to go after the man that he was certain would be the most difficult target.

And judging by the look on Nadezhda's face, he wasn't the only person.

"Nadya, are you sure?" Nadezhda asked. "Zelenko's a slippery snake: he'll probably be the trickiest one to kill. Do you really want to take him on in your state?"

The look on Nadya's face darkened. "I'm just fine. Zelenko killed my cousin and had both of us tortured: I want to pay him back in kind for everything he's done to me. And everybody I care about."

Virtanen and Nadezhda gave each other looks. It seemed that both of them were surprised by the sudden fire in Nadya after those weeks spent practically catatonic.

"Alright," Virtanen said. "Zelenko's taken, then. Anybody else want to stake a claim to any of our other targets?"

Everybody looked around at each other, as if waiting for somebody else to go first. Nadya, however, just looked down at the ground, a solemn look on her face.

"I'll take Horacek," Arkadiy said.

"That just leaves Kirilov and Novak," Virtanen said. "Arttüri, Nadezhda: do either of you have any preference."

Both of them paused, then shook their heads.

"Alright," Virtanen said. "Arttüri, you've got Kirilov. Nadezhda, you're on Novak."

Arttüri groaned.

"What is it, now?" Virtanen asked.

"I wanted Novak," Arttüri said. "Was it not clear that I wanted to be on Novak?"

Virtanen groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why? What did he do to deserve to work with this group of psychos?

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Hello, everybody! Here's the final chapter for the week. I hope all of you enjoyed all of the chapters from today :D

Now, on to the dedication. This one's going out to one of my newest followers, AbbyHopeNormal! Thank you for your support, mate.

As always, be sure to vote and comment, and we'll see you next week with another exciting chapter of "The Last Romanov" :D