Chapter 25: Devil’s Lair: Chapter 25

“We have a problem,” Konstantin says in lieu of a greeting as his face—a leaner, more ascetic version of mine, with black-rimmed glasses perched high on his hawkish nose—fills my laptop screen.

I lean closer to the camera, my pulse speeding up with anticipation. “What did you find out?”

Konstantin frowns. “Oh, about the girl? Nothing yet. My team’s still working on it.” Oblivious to the sharp sting of disappointment he’s just delivered, he continues. “It’s my nuclear project. The Tajik government has just pulled our permits.”

I inhale and slowly let the air out. At times like this, I want to strangle my older brother. “So what?” He has to know I don’t give two fucks about his pet projects, especially ones that verge on science fiction.

Then again, maybe he doesn’t. Despite his genius-level IQ—or possibly because of it—Konstantin can be remarkably unaware of what’s going on around him, especially if it involves people instead of zeroes and ones.

“So Valery thinks it’s the Leonovs,” he says, eyes gleaming behind the lenses of his glasses. “Atomprom is bidding against us, and Alexei was spotted having lunch with the head of the Energy Commission in Dushanbe.”

Fuck. It’s all I can do to hide the flare of rage searing through me.

I was wrong. My brother is very much aware of what he’s doing by involving me in this. If it were anyone but the Leonovs, I wouldn’t give two fucks—business is business—but there’s no way I’m letting their interference slide.

Not after Slava.

“Did Valery—” I begin grimly, but Konstantin is already shaking his head.

“The Energy Commission refused to talk to him. Some bullshit about avoiding undue influence. Valery has a few ideas on how to proceed, but I figured I’d speak with you before we go down that path.”

I take another steadying breath and force my tense shoulders to unclench. “You did the right thing.” The persuasion tactics our younger brother likes to use might draw unnecessary attention, and after the stunt the Leonovs pulled two years ago, we’re already on thin ice with the Tajik authorities.

A more delicate touch is required, which is why Konstantin has come to me with this.

“I’ll call the Commission head and set up a meeting,” I say. “We were in boarding school together. He’ll see me.”

Konstantin dips his head. “I’ll meet you in Dushanbe. How soon can you be there?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll fly out this morning.” The sooner I get this bullshit over with, the sooner I get back here.

For the first time since I’ve left Moscow, this quiet retreat in the wilderness excites me more than any city in the world.