I pull up to a heavy metal fence on the side of the road. A keypad and a camera sit on the side of the driveway like a parking lot.
"State your field and Agent ID." A slightly static voice says. Oh, shit. I don't have a coverup...
"My name is James Underwood-"
A machine gun appears from behind the fence, pointed at me. "State your field and Agent ID." Woah, hold on a damn minute!
"I have Yelena Borisyuk, and she's been shot." Silence falls over the speaker for a few seconds.
"Prove it." The voice says after a few seconds. I recline my seat all the way back to reveal the unconscious woman in my passenger seat.
That seems to do the trick. The gate opens with a loud buzz to reveal a large castle—like compound. Damn, this place is pretty nice.
I make my way down the driveway, passing beautiful trees, stones, and fountains to the garage where multiple black cars are parked.
I park my car and climb out to get Yelena. She's really going through it, huh? I think as I inspect her fresh wounds.
From the looks of it, Yelena got some pretty deep cuts dragging herself across that floor.
I pick her up and close the car door with my foot before making my way toward the nearest agent. "Hey, sir? How do I get-"
Two people walk around the corner, talking to each other in Russian. A man and a woman.
The man is dressed in a full black, three-piece suit with white-blond hair and emerald green eyes. He looks important; I wonder who that is.
The woman is dressed in a short black dress, similar to Yelena's. She has long, brown hair and doe-eyed chocolate-brown eyes. She kind of looks like-
"A vy! Chto ty sdelal s moyey sestroy!?"
(And you! What did you do to my sister!?)
She walks right up to me and looks me in the eye with no fear. Yep, definitely Yelena's sister. "I didn't do this to your sister."
She scoffs and turns to the man. "YA etogo ne delal, govorit on."
(I didn't do this, he says.)
The man takes Yelena with a chuckle and flings her over his shoulder. "Be careful, she's been shot."
"She'll be fine."
Damn, he has a thick Russian accent. They both turn and walk back around to where they came from. Wait, what about me?
I run up behind them. "You and I remember Budapest very differently." The woman says with a laugh.
"Who are you guys?" I ask, tapping the man on the shoulder. The woman turns around and looks at me like I'm a bug while the man starts to explain.
"My name is Viktor Rum, Yelena's Consigliere, and this is Anastasia Borisyuk, Yelena's little sister."
"Wait, are you saying that Yelena is the Don of the Russian mafia!?" I gape, looking between the two of them as we walk inside an elevator.
"And who are you again?" Anastasia asks, pressing the button. "I'm James Underwood, a Lieutenant at-"
She whips out her pistol and points it at my neck. "You're a police officer!? He's a spy!" I snatch the pistol from her and point it at the ceiling.
"If I was a spy, I wouldn't have told you about my job now would I?" I say, handing it back to her. "I'm afraid you can't leave here until Yelena is well and decides what to do now, James. It's too risky."
I scoff at him as the elevator rings. The doors slide open to reveal what looks like the hall of a hospital.
"We'll get her to medical team and show you your room, yes?" He asks as Anastasia steps off of the elevator.
"I guess. I don't have a choice, do I?"
"Nope!" Ana calls from down the hall. A low chuckle escapes my lips. That woman is scary. We walk into an empty hospital room and place Yelena in bed.
"Medical team will come in a few minutes to assess Yelena." He says, pressing an emergency button on the wall.
"Alright. I have to visit a client and I'm already late." She says, looking at the clock in the corner. What does it mean to visit a client? "Very well. James let's go to your room."
He leads me out of the hospital room and back towards the elevator as Anastasia walks down a different hall.
"Is Anastasia always like this?" I ask as he presses a button. "No, she's just on edge. She was worried about her sister all day."
I nod as the doors open to another hall that looks like a luxury hotel. He leads me to a specific room and opens the door.
It's a spacious room with a queen-sized bed made with black silk sheets in the center of the room.
There's a glass door that leads to a small balcony with a beautiful view of the compound.
"Thanks, Viktor," I say sitting on the edge of the bed. He nods and closes the door behind him. In all honesty, I could get used to this.
Too bad it'll end soon.