Viktor Reznov Novels & Stories

"Yes. Also yours? " "Yes." The two young men stopped in the corridor on which the classroom opened in which a lecture on mana control formulas was being held, where the bustle of the other students continued to advance and left them behind. "Excuse me, I forgot to introduce myself," said Viktor's classmate, who almost dropped the bulky bag as he dropped one of his hands to reach out to him friendly. "Herwin Reiss." "Viktor Drichey." Uncertainly, Viktor reciprocated the other's gesture, and they both shook hands. It was a very different greeting from the one his roommate had given her.

“Subject Beta? Viktor, what is Subject Beta, and is it hostile?” “No. Subject Beta is… highly non-hostile,” Viktor confirmed, a tiny, almost painful blush rising on his neck. “Subject Beta is a doctoral candidate at the University of St. Petersburg. She is specializing in complex systems theory as applied to railway maintenance schedules.” Oh my God. Viktor is dating. And of course, he didn't just meet a nice woman; he found a woman who specializes in "complex systems theory." It’s like he outsourced his romance to an algorithm. For years, he lived entirely in Vladimir’s shadow, managing his brother’s immense danger. Now that Vladimir and I have stabilized the outer defenses, Viktor finally

All three of them turned when he walked in. Selene's eyes went straight to his face, reading him the way she had been reading him since he was a child. "Well?" Damon moved to the bar. Poured two fingers of whiskey. Drank half before he sat down. "Well?" Selene repeated, quicker. "I met him," Damon said. The room changed. Mira sat up. Aria looked away from the window. Selene put her wine glass down. "And?" Selene said. "His name is Volkov. Viktor Volkov." Damon turned the glass in his hands. "Eastern European. Old money, old connections, old enemies. He's been at war with Craven for four years."

I looked at the photograph. At the shoulders. At the initial. V. Viktor Volkov had been twenty years old in the summer of 1991. Before the company. Before everything. Before anyone knew the shape of what he'd become. I sat in the Islington café and held a photograph of my mother and a young man whose face I couldn't see clearly and felt the world do the thing it had been doing to me at intervals for three years reorganising itself quietly around a fact that had been true the whole time, waiting for the moment I was ready to see it.

The results I was working for had finally shown, and I was going to enjoy that moment, no matter what. I smiled at Declan as he shook me vigorously. What he didn't know was that Vincenzo was still out in the wastelands, plotting his revenge on me. He also didn't know that the burnt head in his courtyard belonged to Denzel, who had failed me.

His face was swollen, and dried blood marked his collar, but his eyes were clear. “You brought her,” Viktor said quietly. “Yes,” Ruin replied. Viktor’s gaze flicked to me.“You stopped him,” he said. “Yes,” I answered. Viktor nodded once, almost in gratitude. Ruin remained standing.“You said there is someone above the Bratva,” Ruin said. “You implied Black Meridian.” “Yes,” Viktor replied. “Why did you refuse to name the contact?” “Because he is not just a contact,” Viktor said. “He is embedded.” The word shifted the air.“Embedded where?” Ruin demanded.

"Based on your description, we have a possible match. Viktor Orlov. Former GRU. Connected to multiple black operations in the nineties. Dropped off intelligence radar twelve years ago. Presumed dead or deep cover." "He is not dead," Hope said with certainty. "I would know. Men like that do not just die quietly." "What makes you sure?" "The way Marcus talked about him. With respect. Fear even. Marcus was not afraid of many people. But Viktor made him careful. That means Viktor had power. Resources. Protection. People like that do not disappear unless they choose to." "So he chose to go underground." "Yes. And if he is behind this, if he is funding Volkov and running this operation, then this

Victor commanded. "I do not know much. Nobody does. He is a ghost. Former Russian intelligence. Built networks across Eastern Europe after the Soviet Union collapsed. Expanded into America through West Ark. Uses the Reyes family and other organizations as infrastructure while staying completely hidden." Carlos pulled out his own phone and showed Victor a photo. "This is the only picture anyone has of him. Taken maybe ten years ago. He could look completely different now."

They were all waiting, lined up like soldiers. Four people. Two women. Two men. Plus Viktor’s right-hand snake, Aleksander. I’d done my research on him, charming smile, deadly hands. The kind of guy who’d flirt while picking your coffin. And thensugar-coateds. Viktor Dragovic. Standing tall at the top of the steps like some mafia king. Black clothes from head to toe, silver rings on his fingers like trophies from the people he’d destroyed. And those cold gray eyes locked right on me.

Her dark lipstick was highlighted as though she wanted to look tough which she was… The strange woman raised her hand before fisting it into a punch, ceasing every rogue from attacking our men above. “Let me introduce myself,” she began, a smirk playing at one corner of her lips. “I’m Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft… and also, Selene’s sworn enemy.” Recognition dawned on me that this woman was the same woman we’d heard talking to Levi. What the hell? If this Goddess was in love with Levi then who exactly was Levi?