Page 96 of Assassin: Part 1

“I should fucking kill you,” he seethes.

“Yeah, yeah, we both know I’ll take you down before you get your gun or knife out. You keep practicing to get the best of me, and maybe one day you will. There.” I hear the click and the door swings open when I turn the knob. He’s glaring at me with murderous intent, so I grin. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you I found all of his secret accounts and drained them? You won’t miss a measly ten million, Belov. You’ll have plenty to spare. The rest I’ve put in a fund for our own plans with the society.”

The murderous glare disappears, but not the anger. “Don’t you think all four of us should be making that decision together?”

I give him a droll stare. “You want to trust billions of dollars to two people we’re still testing out? Who have no idea the shit we know and have done? You sure you’re not going soft on me, darling?”

“Fine, you have a point, but if you want the two of us to work together, we need to figure this shit out together. You want to learn to be a team player, Lane, you start with this. Ilya’s not going to take you bossing him. Neither are Zakhar, Oleg, or Mila.”

He walks around me and into the house, moving to avoid setting off the sensors and booby traps before dismantling them. He’s always been damn good at that.

When he finishes and I step inside, I keep a tight grip on the box of memories I’ve buried deep down, but it still hits me every time how nothing ever changes here. Not even the dishes in the sink. The same old chipped patterned plates, one water glass, and one set of cutlery.

All a front to make it look like someone lives here and left in a hurry. Clever and predictable. I head for the stairs that lead to the basement full of survival gear and food. The cans are old and dusty, another ruse to hide what was down here. The real place he lived.

The place where nightmares began and never left.

“The man certainly knew how to create an aesthetic,” Mishka mutters as he follows me down. I say nothing as I walk over to the empty wall. The only empty wall. Anyone looking at it would think there was nothing there, but if they paid attention, they would see the small scratches in the floor that hinted of what lay behind it.

I find the hidden button with no trouble, and Mishka makes a garbled sound. Yeah, I forget he’s never been here. Pasha wouldn’t risk it. The children who were here that started the same age as I did were scared into revealing nothing. Mishka was never going to break, so he didn’t dare.

The hidden door in the walls clicks open with a snick, and I pull it open to slip inside. I disarm the system before opening the additional door just inside. This one is heavier, fully metal, and opens with no sound.

Pasha was so sure no one would ever get this far. I already know there is nothing hidden in here we have to worry about.

The space is large, spanning almost a thousand feet underground, with a fully equipped kitchen, small living space, and the long table I sat at more times than I can count. A bathroom is off the kitchen, and the primary bedroom is off the living room. A simple, understated place.

How wrong they are.

I move to the bathroom, Mishka following silently behind me. I lift the toilet seat lid, reach behind the tank, and find the lever. A sharp click comes from the living room. Mishka whirls, gun up.

“It’s the other location. It’s fine. Put your gun away.”

“Other location?”

“You really think he was going to leave the most important shit out in the open of this? He made sure that if someone got in here, they weren’t going to find shit. Or if they were, they were going to have to work, and it would alert his phone that someone was here.” I pull out the phone, showing him the warning notification on the screen.

Mishka stares at the phone. “I never even saw you grab that.”

“I grabbed it when you, Ilya, and Rori were having a pissing contest over who should get to kill him. We’ll need it to get into his secure files.”

“How do you know this shit? Even I don’t, and he kept me at his side all the fucking time for years.”

I walk through the living room and motion for him to move the couch. He glares at me but does it. I push the hidden door inward, taking in the large room. It is another thousand square feet, but it is the true location.

Computers, maps, and files line it. At the very back is another room with his bed, and his personal photos hang on the walls. Photos that will never see the light of day. Upon seeing it, my stomach sours, but I turn away and focus on the computers.

That’s over. It’s done. And after today, it will be gone.

“Holy shit,” Mishka rasps. I don’t look at him, not needing to see the pity and realization on his face.

“Gather the hard drives. Those are coming with us. Everything else my team will grab when they get down here. You and I will go through it all at some point.” It’s a task I’m still mentally preparing myself for.

“What’s all in here, Lane. No bullshit. What are we going to find?”

I turn slowly to look at him. A part of me wants to keep it to myself, to shoulder the burden, but I need his cooperation. He’s proving more valuable.

Or, rather, he knows too much already, so what will telling him more change? The day I have to kill him, the knowledge will die with him.