“All right,” Diego agrees easily. “I’ll be around.”
He lopes off to join the others, and Lucas turns to Misha, who’s watching him warily.
“I have to speak to a few guards,” Lucas says. “Can I trust you to stay on this field and not get into trouble if I leave you alone with your sister?”
Misha’s face is stony, but he nods.
“Good.” Lucas clasps my elbow and pulls me to him. Lowering his head, he presses a quick, hard kiss to my lips before stepping back. “I’ll see you both soon. Stay within sight. Got it?”
“Yes,” I say, trying to ignore the burn in my cheeks. “We’ll be here.”
Lucas walks away, and I turn to face Misha, my embarrassment intensifying when I see an identical flush on his face. I know why Lucas kissed me like that—it’s all about claiming me in public today—but that doesn’t mean I wanted my fourteen-year-old brother to witness it.
Misha already thinks poorly of me.
“Do you want to take a walk?” I offer, trying to pretend the kiss didn’t happen. “I haven’t seen this area before. Maybe you can show me around?”
“Sure.” Misha seems glad to have something to do. Grabbing his shirt from the grass, he pulls it on and says, “Here, let’s go this way.”
He leads me toward the obstacle course, and I follow, ignoring the mix of hostile and curious looks coming our way from the guards.
“How are you?” I ask in English. I want to get used to speaking with Misha this way, so that Lucas and the others don’t think we’re trying to hide something from them. “Are they still treating you well?”
He nods. “They watch me all the time,” he responds in English, “but other than that, it’s okay.”
“Good.” I give him a relieved smile. “How are your accommodations?”
He shrugs as we walk around a pair of guards practicing scaling a barbed-wire fence. “They’re fine. A little better than the dorms, I guess.”
“That’s good. And what about—”
“How long are they going to keep us here?” he interrupts, giving me a sidelong look. “The guards wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Right. About that…” I take a deep breath. “I’m going to talk to Lucas, but before I do, I need to know a little bit more about your situation.”
Misha frowns. “What do you mean?”
This is going to be tricky. “How did you end up in UUR, Michael?” I ask carefully, using his preferred name. “Did your uncle ask you to join?”
“No.” Misha doesn’t blink. “It was my idea.”
I stop, staring at him in shock. “Yours?”
My brother gives me a level look. “I was in some trouble in school, and Uncle Vasya came to talk to me. He told me how stupid I was being, how many kids would’ve killed for a chance at my kind of life. And I told him that’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want to be an accountant or a lawyer or a nurse. I wanted to be an agent, like him.”
I frown in confusion. “This was openly discussed in your family? UUR and everything?”
“No, of course not. My parents were very secretive about Uncle Vasya’s job, but I kept overhearing things. Also, I knew I had a sister who was working for our country. My parents told me about that because I kept asking them why you left me.” I wince, but he’s already plowing ahead. “Anyways,” he says, “I put two and two together, and on that visit, I confronted Uncle Vasya about it. He admitted that you’d joined his program, and then he told me how I came to be adopted by my parents.”
“Michael, that’s not—”
“Don’t lie. He said you’d lie about it.” Misha’s tone sharpens. “He was a good man. He died for Ukraine.”
“I know that, but…” I draw in a steadying breath. “Listen to me, Michael. Your uncle and I had a deal. Your adoption was part of it. You were supposed to be safe, not recruited into this life. It was only supposed to be me. I joined the agency because I wanted to protect you, and I couldn’t do it at the orphanage. Obenko promised me—”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” Misha steps back, shaking his head. “You’re lying. I know you are.”
“No, Mishen’ka.” My heart squeezes at the anger and confusion in his gaze. “Your uncle didn’t tell you everything. I didn’t leave because I was tired of the orphanage. I left because that was the only way to keep you safe.”
Misha keeps shaking his head, but he’s no longer interrupting, so I tell him about the visit by the man in the suit and the bargain he offered me, including how I was supposed to stay away from Misha and the pictures I received every few months. As I speak, I see uncertainty replace some of the anger in my brother’s eyes.
He doesn’t know whom to believe, and I can’t blame him.
“I still have all those pictures,” I say when he remains silent. “I uploaded them to a secure cloud service a few months ago. I could show them to you one day, if you want.”
Misha stares at me. “You kept them?”
“Of course.” My chest is painfully tight, but I attempt a smile. “You’re my only family, Michael. I kept every single one.”
He swallows and looks away before resuming walking. I catch up with him, and we walk without speaking for a few minutes. There are a million things I want to tell him, a billion questions I want to ask, but I don’t want to push us into another argument.
It’s nice to just have my brother’s company for now.
To my surprise, Misha breaks the silence first. “I didn’t know it was you that day,” he says quietly as we stop to observe two guards throwing knives.
“What?” I turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?”
“That day at the warehouse, when I helped them catch you. I didn’t know that was you.” Misha’s forehead is creased with tension. “I only found out later.”
“Oh, of course.” It hadn’t even occurred to me that he could’ve known. “You hadn’t seen me since you were three, and I was wearing a wig. Besides, why would you ever expect your sister to be lurking outside your training facility?”
“Right.” He folds his arms across his chest. “So why were you there? Uncle Vasya said that you’d turned on us, that you were no longer loyal to UUR.”
“I never turned on the agency, but I was going to walk away,” I say, deciding to be completely honest. “I was following Obenko because I was hoping he’d lead me to you, so I could see you one last time before I left.”
Misha blinks. “You followed him to see me? But why were you going to walk away?”
“It’s a long story, Michael.”
“Is it because of him?” Misha glances toward the other side of the field, where Lucas is talking to a group of guards. “Because”—his cheeks redden—“you two are lovers?”
“It’s…” God, why is this so difficult? It’s not like I’m fourteen. “It’s complicated between us,” I finally manage to say. “His boss has been at odds with Ukraine for a while, and—”
“Is Kent forcing you?” Misha’s eyes flash with blue fire. “Because I’ll kill him if he is—”
“No, of course not,” I interrupt, my pulse jumping. The last thing I need is Misha in defender mode. “I want to be with Lucas,” I say firmly. “It’s just a complicated situation because of UUR and everything.”
My brother doesn’t look convinced, so I add quickly, “And yes, us being lovers was a big part of why I was going to walk away.”
Misha flushes again and looks away. “Okay,” he mutters. “That’s what I thought.”
“Yes, and you were right.” Pushing aside my discomfort, I give him a rueful smile. “You’re very smart, and pretty much an adult now. I’ll have to get used to that. The last time I saw you, your biggest achievement was going on the potty, so it’s a bit of an adjustment for me, seeing you all grown up like this.”
Misha grins, as pleased by that praise as any boy of fourteen, and I realize how mature my brother acts most of the time. I don’t have much experience with teenagers, but I doubt many of them could’ve handled this situation as well as he has.
In fact, few adults could’ve kept their cool while being kidnapped, taken halfway around the world, and kept captive on an arms dealer’s jungle compound.
As I ponder that, a flicker of motion from across the field catches my gaze.
“We should head back,” I say, realizing Lucas is waving at me. “I think Lucas is calling us.”
Misha nods, falling into step beside me, and as we walk back, I try to think of the best way to approach my captor about sending my brother home.
39
Lucas
After I talk to the new recruits on the field, I catch Yulia’s eye and wave at her, motioning for her to return. She grabs her brother and starts walking back, and I head over to the pull-up bar, figuring I’d get some quick exercise in while I wait.
I’m midway through my first set of wide-grip pull-ups when I see Esguerra approach.