BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Timokhin said, pouring two more glasses.

“Very well.”

“Sit,” Timokhin said.

Igor slumped back into the chair.

“The reason I called you here,” he said, “the reason I’m dangling the prospect of a top floor office.”

“Yes,” Igor said, a little too eagerly.

“We’re going to war, Igor.”

Igor watched him form the word. He said it with such relish, like he was saying the name of a lover. “If that’s true….”

“It is true, Igor. Straight from the top,” he said, nodding to the portrait of the president on his desk. “We’re done staring at the Americans across the curtain. We’re finally going to war.”

“Real war?”

“Real war, Igor. The war we’ve been waiting our whole lives to fight.”

Igor reached for the bottle, almost knocking it over. It was Timokhin who caught it. “But we can’t win,” he said.

“We don’t have to win,” Timokhin said. “We only have to prove our loyalty.”

“And how do we do that?” Igor said.

“By sacrificing our souls, Igor. By sacrificing our souls.”

31

Lance pulled up to the departure terminal. Sam was sitting in the truck next to him, looking at him.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“What difference does it make to you?”

“It doesn’t. It just … I don’t know … feels right.”

“Feels right?”

“You’re a soldier, Lance. You belong over there.”

He let out a long sigh. He was still conflicted about the decision, but there was something about what Sam had said, about him letting Laurel go and fight his fight, that didn’t sit right. He knew he couldn’t let her do it alone.

“So I can trust you to hold down the fort?” he said.

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“I swear, Lance.”

“Because it wasn’t so long ago you were calling me a kidnapper.”

“I was upset.”

“You said I was going to lock you in the basement.”

She shrugged.

He took the keys from the ignition and handed them to her.

“A lot of things in life,” he said, “they end up not working out.”

“You’ll just have to trust me,” Sam said.

“Just don’t mess up my truck.”

“I won’t.”

“Or my place.”

“I won’t, Lance.”

“And take care of yourself.”

She looked at him. “I’ll try.”

He hoped that was true. If she managed to turn things around, that would be something he’d hold onto, something he’d be able to point to and say it had worked out, in a world where very few things ever did.

He knew that better than anyone.