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หน้าหลัก / Paranormal / THE PAKHAN'S STOLEN OMEGA / บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

บททั้งหมดของ THE PAKHAN'S STOLEN OMEGA: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

69

AFTERMATH

DIMITRIThe safe house smelled like antiseptic and blood.Dimitri watched Anya work on Alexei's shoulder wound with hands that didn't shake. Steady.Professional. The same hands that had killed eight men tonight without hesitation.The same hands that had felt like fire when they'd touched his."You missed your calling," Alexei said through gritted teeth as she probed the wound. "Could've been a doctor.""Hold still.""That's not a no." Alexei's eyes found Dimitri's across the room. Sharp. Questioning. "What else are you good at, milaya? Besides shooting, tactical assessment, and field medicine?"She didn't answer. Just threaded the suture needle with movements too smooth to be anything but trained.Dimitri leaned against the wall and tried to think past the white noise in his head. Past the feeling of her, still there, even meters away, a constant hum under his skin.85%.The immunity suppressant had dropped from 90% to 85% in a single touch. His wolf, the beast he'd kept chained for
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INTERROGATION

The new safe house was a warehouse. Industrial. Cold. The kind of place bodies got buried under concrete.Anya tried not to think about that as Dimitri cuffed her to a chair."Is this necessary?" she asked."Yes."Fair enough. She'd admitted to being a CIA operative sent to infiltrate their organization. Trust would take time.If they gave her time.Dimitri, Alexei, and Nikolai stood in a semicircle around her. Alpha predators, assessing threat level. Deciding if she lived or died.Her training said to stay calm. Give them enough truth to seem honest, but never the whole truth.Never make yourself completely vulnerable.Her instinct, that same gut feeling that had made her refuse extraction, said to tell them everything.She was so fucking tired of lying."Let's start simple," Dimitri said. He'd gone cold. Professional. The warmth from earlier gone, replaced by the Pakhan who'd built an empire on blood and fear. "Your real name.""Anya Volkov.""Convenient last name for a Russian infi
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THE BIGGER GAME

The coordinates led to a shipping container yard on the edge of the port district.Anya scanned the area through binoculars from their vantage point on a neighboring warehouse roof. Empty. Too empty. The kind of empty that screamed ambush."I count fifteen containers," she said quietly. "Good sight lines for snipers. Multiple exit routes. If this is a trap, it's a well-designed one.""It's a trap," Alexei said. He was field-dressing his own wounds with the efficiency of someone who'd done it too many times. "Question is whether it's worth walking into."Dimitri was silent. Watching. Calculating. His alpha senses stretched thin, searching for threats.Anya felt the bond between them, stronger now, 70% and dropping with every passing hour. Felt his tension. His exhaustion. The determination that burned hotter than the pain."We could leave," Nikolai suggested. "Go dark. Let whoever this is think they won.""And then what?" Dimitri's voice was flat. "They've already proved they can find
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CIA

Anya stared at the phone in her hand.Twenty-four hours.Her sister, alive, breathing, terrified in a CIA black site, or the three alphas who'd become something she couldn't name.Pack. Mates. Home.Fuck.She typed the message carefully. Encrypted. To an old contact. Former MI6. The kind of person who could find needles in haystacks.NEED LOCATION. CIA SAFEHOUSE. HYBRID PROGRAM. PRIORITY CRITICAL.Send.Then another message. This one to the hacker she'd mentioned. The one who owed her.TRACE THIS PHONE. She attached Stevens' number. EVERYTHING. CALLS, TEXTS, LOCATION HISTORY. SEND TO DIMITRI VOLKOV.Send.The gun was a Glock 19. Familiar weight. Fifteen rounds. One spare mag.Enough to kill Eleanor Voss. Enough to kill Stevens. Enough to die trying.She checked the time. 3:47 AM. Twenty hours and thirteen minutes until the deadline.Her sister's face haunted her. Younger. Scared. The way she'd looked when their father had bundled them into the car, fleeing Moscow in the middle of the
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ESCAPE OR STAY

The safe house was burning. Not literally. But it might as well have been. Every instinct Anya had, ten years of training, a hundred close calls, the survival reflexes that had kept her alive, screamed at her to run. Leave. Disappear. Take Katya and vanish into the wind before Eleanor's deadline arrived. Instead, she was watching Dimitri clean his weapons. "You should eat," he said without looking up. The bond hummed between them, completed, permanent, a constant presence under her skin. She felt his exhaustion. His determination. The alpha certainty that he'd win or die trying. "Not hungry." "Liar." He looked up then. Those dark eyes seeing too much. "I can feel you, remember? Feel the hunger. The fear. The way you're calculating escape routes." Fuck the bond. "Can you blame me?" She moved to the window. Watched the street below. "Eleanor has resources we can't match. She's CIA-backed, possibly sanctioned at the highest levels. She's already proved she can find us. Hunt us. K
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IMPOSSIBLE CHOICES

Twenty-four hours wasn't enough time.Anya stared at the photo of her sister, real Katya this time, not whatever decoy they'd used, and felt the walls closing in. Alaska was 3,500 miles away. Six hours of flight time if they had a plane. Which they didn't."We can't make it," she said quietly. The safe house was different now. Smaller. They'd lost four of her contacts in the port battle. The SAS operator. Two others. "Even if we left right now, even if we had transport, we'd never...""We'll make it." Dimitri's voice was rough. Exhausted. But certain."How? We don't have a plane. We don't have...""I know someone who owes me a favor. Private airfield. He can have us in the air in two hours.""That's still eight hours total. That leaves us sixteen hours to plan and execute a rescue on a CIA black site." Anya looked at him. At the burns on his arms. The way he favored his left side. "You're hurt. Your brothers are hurt. We're down four operators. We don't even know the layout of the fac
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THE PLAN

ALEXEITwelve hours wasn't enough time.Alexei stared at the thermal imagery on his tablet, the CIA facility glowing hot against the frozen Alaska landscape, and ran the numbers again. Same answer. They were fucked."Talk to me," Dimitri said. They were holed up in an abandoned hunting cabin two miles from the target. Cold. Exhausted. Running on caffeine and desperation."Facility is a hardened structure. Reinforced concrete. Steel doors. Biometric access at every checkpoint." Alexei zoomed in. "I count thirty-two heat signatures. Minimum. Could be more in shielded areas.""Guards?""Most of them. Maybe eight scientists. Medical personnel." He pulled up another image. "This area here...basement level, west wing...that's where they're holding her.""How do you know?" Anya asked. She'd been silent since they'd arrived. Processing. Planning. Her operator brain working overtime."Heat signature analysis. Single figure. Isolated. Hasn't moved in three hours." He looked at her. "Could be yo
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FLIGHT TO ALASKA

The C-130's engine roared. Anya pressed her forehead against the cold metal wall and tried to breathe through the panic.Ninety minutes. Her sister had ninety minutes before the procedure became irreversible.They were still 4,000 miles away."Hey." Nikolai dropped beside her. Not Dimitri. Not Alexei. Nikolai, the violent one, the one who laughed at death. "You good?""No.""Fair enough." He pulled out a flask. Offered it. "Vodka. Good stuff. Not the shit they sell in America."She took it. Drank. Fire down her throat. "Thanks.""You're thinking we won't make it." Not a question."We won't. The math doesn't work. Even if we breach perfectly. Even if we fight through thirty guards without casualties. We'll never reach her in time.""Probably not." He took the flask back. Drank. "So we don't fight through. We go around.""There is no around. The facility is a fortress.""Every fortress has a weakness." Nikolai pulled out his phone. Showed her schematics. "This vent system. Runs through
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THE JUMP

DIMITRIThe HALO jump was insane.Dimitri had done a lot of crazy shit in thirty-four years. Smuggled weapons across three continents. Run protection rackets that made enemies of men who killed for sport. Built an empire on blood and violence.But jumping out of a plane at 25,000 feet? That was a new level of insanity."Remember!" Anya's voice through the comm. Steady. Professional. "Arch your back! Arms and legs spread! Track toward me if you drift!"Right. Easy. Just fall through five miles of air and hope gravity was feeling generous.The door opened. Wind roared. Cold that stabbed through layers of gear. Below, Alaska. Endless. Frozen. Beautiful and deadly."Go!" Anya jumped. Disappeared into darkness.Dimitri followed.The world fell away. Wind so loud it deafened. His stomach somewhere near his throat. Adrenaline singing through his veins.This was flying. This was freedom. This was...Fucking terrifying.He arched. Felt the wind catch him. Stabilize his descent. Through the dar
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BREACH

Katya was alive.Anya held her sister in the back of the extraction vehicle, stolen SUV, courtesy of Nikolai's chaos, and tried to process. They'd done it. Against impossible odds. Against everything.They'd won.Except Eleanor's message glowed on her phone. A reminder that this wasn't over. That the real game was just beginning."She okay?" Dimitri asked from the front seat.Driving too fast on icy roads. Not caring."Unconscious. They sedated her. But vitals are good. Strong." Anya checked the IV site where they'd been pumping god-knows-what into her sister. "We'll need a real doctor. Someone who can run tests. Make sure the hormones haven't...""We have a doctor," Nikolai interrupted. "Dimitri's contact in Anchorage. Former military. Discrete. She'll check Katya. Make sure she's clean."Good. That was good.Anya looked down at her sister. Younger. Thinner. Traumatized. But alive. Safe. Free.Worth it. All of it, the pain, the fear, the impossible choices, worth it for this moment.
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