Page 128 of Assassin: Part 1

“He’s not. So whoever made this USB, wasn’t him. But it’s someone he trusted. And he didn’t trust anyone.”

“Would you two stop fucking talking in damn riddles and tell me what the fuck is going on?” I demand.

Again, they ignore me. My temper ratchets up as they talk around me.

“What the fuck would possess him to do this? Some of the dates on here are years old, Mishka. This isn’t a split-second decision; this is almost five years of ideas.”

“After I was gone,” Mishka agrees. “And after Rori left too. Simeon wasn’t ever going to show up. My brother was an idiot long before they shipped me off.”

I hear the bitterness but don’t bother trying to ask again. Clearly, they don’t need my opinion. I try not to resent that or allow the jealousy I feel about their relationship to make me say something that will make Lane pull away from me.

There’s a familiarity there, but I suppose working together for so many years will put it there.

Instead of allowing myself to dwell on that too long, I turn back to the documents on the screen, trying to make sense of it as they talk behind me.

It’s a mixture of business documents, including deeds, manifests, logs, and financials. But the names on all of them are different. There are scans of handwritten notes. All these documents put together don’t look like they go together, but they have to. Why else would Timur Belov have them?

The system beeps, and they go silent. Then, just like in the movies, sections of documents pop up, names all over them.

“No. That’s not fucking possible,” Mishka bites out when he looks at it. I look sharply at Lane, who is assessing the information, her expression like stone. “How the fuck did he get this shit? Pasha never allowed anything like this to be saved. He destroyed it. So who the fuck got ahold of this?”

I’m finally starting to clue in. “Wait, this is stuff that the Butcher did, not your father?”

“Yes. This is years’ worth of work, Romanov. And Pasha was never aware of it? How the fuck is that possible?”

“We have a bigger problem,” Lane announces, her tone grave. A couple clicks and a document blinks up on the screen. “I know why there was no dust when you found it. See the date?”

Mishka’s body goes utterly rigid.

Apprehensively, I look closer, and it hits me hard. “Wait. That’s yesterday’s date.”

Lane nods slowly. “Whoever Timur was working with, he’s still active. And the only way someone would ever get ahold of those documents is⁠—”

“Someone on the inside,” Mishka finishes. “And not just anyone, but someone in the inner circle.”

“And if they’re still working, then that means they weren’t in the fucking school,” Lane hisses. “We missed one person, and that one person probably saw us all.”

Motherfucker!

53

LANE

My mind is going a mile a minute, wondering who the hell was missed.

Who the fuck was missed? Did someone in the Syndicate betray me? Did they just not pay attention? Why the fuck didn’t I double-check myself again?

I shouldn’t have fucking left something like this to other people. I shouldn’t have trusted anyone but myself. It’s my own fucking fault.

Now, I have a potential bigger mess. One that could turn fucking deadly. Not only for me or Mishka, but to everyone on the Syndicate, and even Ilya and everyone else here.

Everyone is in fucking danger because of me. Because I moved too fast. Brought too many people in instead of handling everything myself.

It’s. All. My. Fault.

I look at Mishka and say, “This is my problem, and I’ll be the one to solve it.”

His gaze sharpens on mine. “It’s both of ours, Lane. We were in on this together.”