by Saul Herzog
The wife didn’t need to be told twice. She turned and walked briskly back toward the apartment.
Tatyana turned her attention to Igor.
“Get in,” she said, beckoning him with the gun.
Igor shook his head.
“I’m not going to ask again,” Tatyana said.
Igor looked at her. “I know,” he said.
“Well?”
“Just do it,” he said. “If you’re going to kill me, kill me here.”
Tatyana shrugged. She glanced up and down the street, then looked back at Igor, that horrible face, she couldn’t believe what she’d let him do to her.
“Remember that day in your office?” she said.
He said nothing, but she knew he remembered.
“This is for that day,” she said, pulling the trigger.
His head flew back and his feet left the ground as his frail body took the bullet. He landed on his back, three feet from where he’d been standing.
Some pedestrians across the street saw what happened and screamed. Tatyana let them run.
She got out of the car.
She still had a cigarette in her mouth and she threw it onto Igor’s chest then stepped on it, crushing it under the Dior shoe Igor’s expense account had paid for.
She reached down and picked up his metal case. She placed it on the hood of the car and clicked open the two latches that secured it. Inside, it was padded with a protective foam lining. In the center of the lining was a cutout segment, securing a small titanium case.
She recognized it instantly.
It was identical to the one Sofia had given her at the institute in Yekaterinburg.
She shut the case and got back into the car. Before pulling away, she took one final look at Igor’s corpse.
Today wasn’t the first time she’d imagined killing him. She’d imagined doing it many times. She’d pictured it in minute detail, going over every little thing she’d do to him.
She’d imagined telling him what had happened to her mother, telling him how she’d felt when he’d forced her onto her knees behind his desk. She’d imagined the feeling of satisfaction she’d get when he realized he was going to die, and that, in the end, she was the one who held the power.
She’d imagined all the satisfaction she’d feel.
Looking at him now, his dead body, she got none of that.
She felt, for the first time, as if she was seeing him for what he truly was.
What all of them truly were.
These men who ruled the vast expanse that was the Russian Federation. A domain that stretched over six thousand miles, a quarter of the way around the globe.
They were monsters, but not the monsters she’d imagined. They were frail, cowardly, always skulking in the darkness, like Gollum, afraid of their own shadow, afraid of losing what treasure they’d found, and guarding it with such jealousy it warped their entire being.
They were terrified of the world.
And beneath their thumb, was a button that could destroy it.
And for all the pomp and ceremony, the grand schemes and vast destructive powers, when they died, they went out the same way as everyone else.
Not with a bang but with a whimper.
She looked at her watch and pulled onto the street in the direction of the Garden Ring. There wasn’t much time, but if she was fast, she might still make it to Lance.
Afterword
I hope you enjoyed this book.
I’m already working on a sequel so if you’d like to be notified of its release, please add your name to the Advance Notice list below.
https://www.authorcontact.com/saulherzog-1
If you have any concerns at all about this story, if you spotted any typos or errors, or if you’d just like to get in touch to say hello, please feel free to contact me at any time.
I can always be reached by email at:
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I am always thrilled to hear from readers so please stop by, say hello, let me know what you think of Lance Spector and the world he inhabits.
God bless and happy reading,
Saul Herzog