He held out his arms, displaying his athletic clothes. Lily had created the duplicate just as he’d asked. She’d even matched the wear of the edges. The only difference was that the names written in the shadows were fake. Hall had delivered it days ago. “Obviously not on me. You should have come to my flat. My brother . . . what has happened? Is he well?”

Emotions chased each other over her face. “He’s fine. Let’s get it. Now.”

“All right.” He lowered his arms and turned toward the exit to the park. He wasn’t sure he believed her about Zhenya—or that he could trust her even to walk beside him. He focused his attention entirely upon her.

She wasn’t holding herself with the coiled readiness of a soldier, though. Her shoulders sagged, and her hands hung at her sides as if they weighed more than they should have. Only her eyes showed the alertness he’d expected of her, darting in every direction. Rather than try to maintain an awareness of everything around him, he let her do that for him and focused instead upon her reactions to each snapping twig, each tweeting bird.

For a few steps, she kept pace at his side. Then she hissed out a breath. “Ninety minutes. I will come to your flat. If anyone else is there, the redhead will pay. Do you understand me? I know where she lives, and if you don’t give me exactly what I want, I’ll put a bullet in her head as I did Alyona’s.”

She pivoted and fled. Zivon considered going after her, a million pointless screams vying to escape from his lips. But none would undo the terrible truth of reality, of the threat, of the despicable crime she’d just claimed. Bringing down Nadya would do nothing to solve the bigger problem right this moment.

He instead opted for discovering what had scared her off. The moment he turned his head, he had his answer. Hall and Blackwell were both striding his way.

He met them with a nod. “Admiral. Captain. I have heard nothing from my brother, but the woman—Nadya—she was just here.”

Two sets of eyes flew to the path, but she must have been out of sight.

“I’m not surprised,” Hall said. “We intercepted a telegram to her from Petrograd that came in yesterday and just made its way to me. Orders to move immediately, that the window was almost closed. We believe it’s referencing the impending mutiny.”

“She’s clearly used up all their patience.” Blackwell’s gaze was still on the path. “It’ll make her desperate.”