23. Kai

TWENTY-THREE

Kai

Exfil was still forty-eight out, and I hadn't expected another flight so soon—all intel had pointed to them being five days apart, but nope, we were called up that same night, after a heated exchange between Kozlov and a frustrated Indigo.

The mission began like any other. We left the base under the cover of darkness, the 'korsky slicing through the night sky as I skimmed the treetops. The familiar hum of the engine filled the cabin as Yuri sat next to me in silence.

I couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension, a nagging sense something wasn't quite right about this delivery, but I did what I was told, or rather KD did what he was told. The coordinates had been fed into the nav with half hour to spare—almost as if they trusted me with the intel. Idiots. My doubts revolved around Yuri, because after the whole Yuri/Kozlov thing, I had huge trust issues with Yuri. Kozlov had issues with whatever relation Yuri was, and Yuri clearly disrespected and ignored Kozlov.

The drop zone tonight was northwest of the previous one, and I ran through the angles in my mind, triangulating location and deciding Zach was better at math than I was. Hopefully, the transmitter I'd planted back at Kozlov's base would right now be feeding intel, and would do so without exposing me until I got out of here.

"Change plan," Yuri said, reaching over and placing something on the heads up which caused it to glitch. Static in my ear made me wince, then the comms were silent, until there was a click and Yuri's voice was in my ear. "Your people are digging into my people."

"The fuck?"

"Just fly."

"What did you do?" He stared, with his Sig pointed at my belly. "You're going to shoot your pilot in the gut?" I drawled.

"I okay fly," he said, with a shrug, as if I was expendable. Which, at this moment, I guess I was.

"Not if I'm a dead weight on the controls when I bleed out."

He muttered something in Russian, pressed the gun to my side, and I went with the flow because what the hell else could I do ?

"So you're hijacking Kozlov's cargo? What's your end game?" No response . Not even a twitch. "Because, dude, let's be realistic here—family or not, Kozlov will kill you, and then me, or maybe me first because I'm flying the damn helo to wherever the fuck you're taking us." Still nothing. Time to exert some pressure. "So I'm guessing you're Kozlov's son, maybe one of many, the failure he hates? Is that why he demanded you be beaten?"

"Zatkni?s!" he cursed, and yep, I knew that one. Shut up. Telling me to stop talking was one thing, actually getting me to do it was another.

"So he is your dad, then? Are you pissed you lost out on Daddy's millions? Thought you'd move drugs for spending money? I guess?—"

"Zatkni?s!" he pressed the barrel against my cheek. At least if he shot me that way, I wouldn't know much about it, and ten to one it would end me. Of course, the 'korsky would spin to its eventual explosive contact with the ground and we'd both be dead, but still…

"So—"

"Uncle," Yuri spat, and then dropped his gun in his lap.

"Uncle? Makes sense. So it's your uncle's money you want?—"

"Death to him." He cut me off again, and this time I didn't have a comeback. Yuri wanted Kozlov dead, Shadow Team, aka me and Zach, wanted intel on his operations, so we were at odds. With Kozlov dead, that meant someone else would move up to take his place. Yuri, maybe?

"I'm turning us around," I said, sticking to my cover, all while trying to work out what the hell was going on.

"No, Kai Henderson."

"Sorry?"

"We know," he said with added drama.

Who knew? My mind raced as Yuri's words sunk in, the familiarity of my real name sending a shiver down my spine. Danger. I glanced at him ready to ask him what the fuck he meant but he took his gun and placed it back in his holster and shrugged.

"Who are you?"

"Mother revenge," he murmured.

I connected the dots—he was here to avenge his mom. How? He was here to do what? Take down his uncle. Kill him?

"I can't let you kill Kozlov," I said, and waited for the inevitable fallout.

"No talk." He pointed at his eyes. "Watch."

Watch? I could do that. Hell, it was what I was here for. We reached the coordinates, and again, it was black, until a familiar ring of lights in a haphazard circle gave me a landing spot—a tight one, but enough for me to land my baby. Touching down at the designated spot, I scanned our surroundings, my senses on high alert .

A group of people from the shadows unloaded the cargo with practiced efficiency—no different from last time, but none of them wore masks, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we were exposed. If this wasn't the same team as before, then what happened to the drugs that were supposed to be dropped at the original coordinates?

What the hell, Yuri?

He clambered down, and I followed him out, but Yuri got right up in my face as soon as my feet touched the ground.

"I talk. You stay," he snapped.

I balked because no fucking way did he order me to stand around with my thumb up my ass. I wanted to understand what the fuck was going on here, because if we went back to base without cargo, from a new drop zone, without cause, then both of us were dead.

"Fuck off," I snapped, channeling my KD persona with a healthy dose of Kai, confronting the behemoth staring down at me. He leaned in to me, and I reared back until he grabbed my shirt and tugged me closer.

But there was no time for questions, no room for doubt. Yuri's actions spoke volumes. The way he revealed he knew me meant he was more than just Kozlov's family; he was a player in this dangerous game with motives of his own that Zach and I didn't know about.

As Yuri's grip tightened on my shirt, I met his stare with a mixture of defiance and confusion. Whose side was he on?

"Yuri?"

"Stay." He shoved me back against the helo and strode into the trees even as the cargo was cleared.

I slipped around the front of the bird, no one paying me attention, heading after Yuri, not bothering to stay in the shadows when I grew closer. Finding the bodies as soon as I was outside the bright ring—ten of them, all wearing masks. The crew had been replaced, so who was working with Yuri now? I spotted Yuri some distance away, talking low and fast with another man, shorter, stockier, with white hair, holding a gun at Yuri's chest. They were so close, but I couldn't get a shot off quick enough to get the man with the gun off my… my what? Fellow agent? Co-pilot? Murdering psychopath? What the fuck was he? As if he knew I was there, he turned on his heel and stalked back my way, grabbing me, and ignoring the shouts from the white-haired man behind.

"Walk," he ordered, although it was more of a stumble-run given he had such a tight hold on me.

"What the fuck?—"

He shoved me at the helo and yanked open the door. "Get in. Start engine."

I hurried inside; he was right behind me, closing and locking the main door, his gun out and on his lap.

"What the fuck?" I repeated .

I took out my weapon, had it to hand, but had already started the engines and was running through the procedure to get the X tons of 'korsky away in a hurry.

"Yuri?" I asked, or warned, fuck knows, as he stared out of the side window at that same white-haired man standing below with his arms over his chest. "Who is that?"

"Chechen. Thug. Mobster. Gang."

"He's Chechen, and you're just throwing a load of words after helps this how?"

"Cargo done, go." He made a circular motion with his finger, and fuck pre-flight, engines on, and warm, we were heading back to base. I waited for bullet tracers, for surface-to-air missiles, anything, but by the time we were two clicks from the drop-off and nothing was after us, with one eye on flying and the other on Yuri, I rounded on him with extreme prejudice, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the instrument panel. His expression was unreadable.

"Talk!" I demanded, breaking the silence hanging between us.

He glanced at me, his eyes betraying a hint of tension. Why was the nephew of a Russian oligarch dealing with Chechen gangs?

"Kozlov," he spat, his focus on me. "Deal with Chechens, break promises." He frowned, frustrated that he couldn't get me to understand.

I pointed at the nav because whatever this was; it would be suicide to return to the base where Kozlov was, not to mention Indigo and her freaking knives. "And what happens when we return and they realize what happened?"

He shrugged, and for a moment, he looked stern. Was he expecting us to go back to base, and what? Die? "Fuck, you hadn't thought that far?"

"End story."

Fuck. Fuck! That wasn't the end of this story at all. I wasn't taking this baby back only to die with a knife in my throat.

"We're not going back," I snapped.

"Henderson—"

"Get me comm back," I ordered, pointing at the system he'd done something to. I was good with electronics, but the round disc he'd placed on there wasn't anything I'd seen before. Did it have to be unhooked, or?—

He reached over and lifted it off, the comm crackling, Indigo talking about the change in location and warnings of something lost in hissing and sputtering. She sounded angry, furious, no, incandescent with rage about comm being off-line, and I listened for long enough to know we were in the shit.

I switched to the secure channel. Zach was going to lose his shit, given we were supposed to be comm silent until after this was over.

"Sierra Two, this is Sierra Three, fuck. "

"Sierra Three?" Just hearing Zach's voice stopped the flare of panic curling in my chest. I'd evaded surface-to-air missiles before, and if I was fighting those, then I needed to stay low, off the radar. This was different—they tracked this helo, and it was rigged to blow, and that was enough to know I had to get this bird down as far away from Kozlov as possible.

"Find me somewhere to land," I snapped.

Zach went silent. I could imagine him running scenarios in his head. "Engine failure?"

He asked what he needed to know to get the best outcome but didn't stop to ask why we were contacting him.

"Evasion."

He threw coordinates at me, didn't elaborate, didn't tell me to be careful, didn't throw me off my game. He separated us from the situation, and I needed that.

As we skimmed the treetops in darkness, Yuri was deadly quiet, and maybe he was counting down the moments until Kozlov took him out. Who knew?

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Set up to Chechen rivals," he cursed as if he couldn't find the words. "For Kozlov, not so tight grip on power."

I couldn't shake the feeling of unease settling in the pit of my stomach.

"Why so elaborate, why not kill him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper .

Yuri slumped in his seat. "My brother, my sister. People place to kill them. Kozlov's buyers will know Chechens, discredit then…" He mimicked a gun to the head.

As much as I could when I was trying to evade fuck knows what was rigged to blow in the 'korsky, I think I understood. Drugs meant for other contacts were given to Kozlov's rivals, and somehow, that was the dangerous game Yuri had begun, and I was caught in the middle.

I kept us on course for the base, waiting until the last moment to veer off toward the navigation heading that Zach had sent. We had a few moments at most to get down and out of the 'korsky if their tracking was good and if they wanted to blow up the helo, and the coordinates were five minutes away in the middle of the expanse of wilderness. I hoped to hell Zach could get exfil in place to get us out of there because, however this worked, we were going down hard. The engines screamed as I pushed her to the max, landing skids close to the trees.

"Get back, open the door, and when I say jump, you fucking jump," I shouted over the engine noise, weaving one of the largest and most powerful helicopters as much as I could and climbing, relying on dumb luck, and getting enough height to enable safe deployment of parachutes—too fucking high and exposed for my liking because if she blew, then it was a long way to fall .

"I fly, you jump," Yuri snarled at me.

"My bird! My decision!" I yelled back at him. "Get back!"

He let out a string of curses, then unbuckled and made his way back, gripping the sides as the 'korsky bucked and swayed beneath us, its massive frame straining against the forces of gravity. We were hurtling up through the air at breakneck speed.

"Yuri, get ready to jump!" I shouted over the roar of the engines, my hands tightening on the controls as I wrestled with the aircraft's momentum.

With a herculean effort, I eased back on the throttle, the roar of the engines diminishing slightly as the helicopter slowed. It was a precarious balance, each change fraught with the risk of sending us careening out of control.

"Go!" I yelled, my voice strained with effort as I fought to keep the helicopter steady. Yuri wasted no time—launching himself from the open door and disappearing into the darkness below.

As soon as he was clear, I slammed the throttle, and the helicopter lurched forward with renewed speed. Adrenalin surged through my veins when I pushed the aircraft to its limits, the wind whipping through the open door. As we screamed toward the ground, metal tore as sparks flew in the cockpit, the rotors groaning, and the helicopter lurching to one side.

I spared a quick glance down, hoping he was safe, at least for now. Then it was my turn. I had to lose height, make sure it crashed into the forest and didn't head on to fuck knows where. Time slowed as I engaged the limited autopilot, which would keep it heading down as long as the 'korsky stayed whole, and then scrambled back to the rear. Another small explosion in the rotors yanked the whole thing sideways, and I fell out, tumbling, pulling on my cord as soon as I was clear, an explosion so loud when the rotors sheared off that I couldn't make sense of falling.

And I hit the ground.

Hard.