Shattered Trust

Chapter 4

Sergei hardly slept at all that night. How could he? His mind was in shambles and his stomach in knots, there was no way he could get any good quality sleep in. He only had twenty-four hours to make this completely life-changing decision, and he was a nervous wreck about it. Despite not sleeping much, he decided it may not be a bad idea to go for a jog. He didn't run much, but he liked to when he was stressed. He felt it helped him clear his mind, get it off his problems for a while. Plus it got him some exercise in, which he could always use. He forced himself to roll out of bed at 5:30 am after a night full of tossing and turning. He wanted to stay on his normal schedule, despite not sleeping.

He stumbled to the bathroom, and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he immediately noticed the huge, dark bags under his eyes. He thought he looked pretty rough. On top of being exhausted from hardly getting any sleep, his stomach hadn't stopped churning since last night. He was in shambles, to say the least. He brushed his teeth, shaved, combed his hair. Getting ready helped some, he didn't look quite as fallen apart as he had before. He quickly changed from a bathrobe into jogging shorts and shoes and a white t-shirt. He chugged a large glass of water before stepping out onto his front porch and stretching a bit. The air was warm and humid. It had been a hotter than usual summer, and the days had been sweltering, even for July. He had lived his entire life in the cool climate of eastern Russia, and the heat bothered him. That's why he got up early to jog, to avoid the hottest part of the day.

He glanced at his watch before starting off. He started at 6:34 am, and despite being so early, it was extremely hot and humid out. He turned and ran down the sidewalk, out toward an old, rural road he knew of and enjoyed running on. It was only about a mile away. As he ran, his thoughts constantly bounced around in his head. Jogging usually cleared his mind, but today it seemed to have the opposite effect. His mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and worry. He wanted to block them out, but he knew he couldn't. He had to confront them and make a decision. He felt that deep down, he wanted to take the offer. He really, really did, and it was very tempting. But at the same time, he almost couldn't live with himself knowing that he was a traitor. He would be betraying his homeland. Pushing aside the morals of it all, what if the KGB found out? He would immediately become an enemy of the state, and would likely be arrested and charged with treason. He knew General Volkov well, and he ran a tight operation. He would almost surely find out, and quickly too. He had agents everywhere, it would take no time for him to catch on. 

Sergei noticed as he was running, he only began feeling worse and worse, physically and mentally. Though it was early, the sun was rising and it was beating down on him. He had only just turned off onto the old dirt road a few minutes back and he had to stop. He stood there on the side of the road, hands on his knees. The sick feeling in his stomach had only been worsened by the physical exertion, and he began to realize that running on no sleep and with so much on his mind was probably not the best idea. But he was already out here, he figured he may as well try to keep going a bit longer. He stood there panting for a few more moments before building up the willpower to keep going. Normally his endurance was much better, but he was certainly not at his best. He hadn't even gone another minute before his mind was once again overtaken with anxiety. He truly felt like taking the offer was the right thing. He didn't want to feel that way. He wanted so desperately to stay loyal to his homeland and feel good about it, but something inside him told him that was wrong. Something in the back of his mind that he wanted so desperately to ignore told him. His time in London had changed his views, and however much he hated that, he couldn't deny it. It was true, he had changed. But should that be enough to tear him from his own people? He once again began feeling overwhelmed in his own thoughts. He became frustrated, becoming more and more exasperated as he ran. He ran faster and faster as if trying to outrun his problems. Before he knew it he was in a full sprint. That didn't last long. He wore out quickly and eventually slowed to a stop. He stood there for a few moments, along the side of that dirt road, just staring off into the sky above. He collapsed to his knees as the sickness in his stomach and dizziness caused by the combination of nerves and exhaustion became too much. He threw up, and remained there on his knees, trying to find the motivation to get up and walk home. He still felt quite ill, but after that short rest there, he began to feel better, and the thought of walking the three miles back home was much more bearable. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but he figured it must have been at least twenty or thirty minutes. He couldn't seem to work out why he was in such bad shape. Missing one night of sleep shouldn't have done this to him. The only thing he could figure is that it must have been a combination of lack of sleep, anxiety, nerves, and heat. Though it wasn't extremely hot since it was fairly early morning, he still had a low heat tolerance having grown up in a cooler climate.

He felt some strength return as he walked, and though he didn't feel great, he wasn't miserable like he was before. His head once again became gradually more foggy as he began thinking about his sticky situation. He knew what he wanted, he just didn't know if it was right. He wanted to accept their offer. He wanted so badly to take it, but was it really in his best interest? What if he was caught by the KGB? It was bound to happen, there's no way he could get away with that for long, all their spies were under constant surveillance. He didn't know what to do, all he knew was that all he wanted to do was sleep. But he figured that he probably wouldn't be doing much of that until after this whole situation was over and he had everything sorted out.

After what seemed like an eternity, he was finally climbing the stairs up to his porch. He opened the front door and stepped inside. The house was cool, and it felt heavenly. He immediately went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Getting hydrated was an immediate relief. He leaned against the kitchen counter and drank a couple glasses of water. He had to be careful not to drink too much, he didn't want to get sick again. He stood in the kitchen for a few moments, deciding what to do. He had things to do today, he should really shower and get ready. But he wanted to take a nap so badly. He looked at his watch. He didn't realize he had been gone for over two hours until then. It was 8:45. It was still early, one little nap wouldn't hurt. He shuffled off into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. He let out a long sigh of relief before almost immediately drifting off into a deep sleep.