Chapter THIRTY SIX

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Kirby Carter

When you pull up outside the address Darby had given you, an uneasy weight in the pit of your stomach forms at the sight of the abandoned warehouse..

The scent of salt and sea-brine mixed with the metallic iron-ore of the shipping yards swirls in the air as you and the viking step out of the car and make your way toward the buildings entrance..

Kirby At least there arent many people nearby.. You guess.. After all, if something goes wrong during construction, at least you wont wipe out an entire neighbourhood of innocent lives..

So that is some consolation..

Though, you can't escape the unsettling thought that down here, so far out of the city in this desolate wearhouse district.. While there is nobody to harm, there is also nobody to hear you scream..

Sensing your apprehension, the viking tucks his arm around your shaking shoulders, pulling you into his warmth as your legs work overtime to keep up with his striding gait.. "The docks are Bratva territory, Duchess.. You're safe here.."

You hum hesitantly, pausing at the doorway and turning to look up at his stoic expression.. "I'm not safe, anywhere, Viking.. I know that.."

His mouth flattens in a pained grimace.. "You're safe with me, Kirby.. I won't let anything happen to you, or Lucky.. Just do what you do best, baby.."

You frown.. "What is that?"

He smiles encouragingly.. "Persist."

You are suddenly reminded of an inner strength you forget you had.. That same fire that had led you to becoming and informant against Malcom, the one that had driven your life on the run..

You are persistent.. Damn persistent.. And despite the odds, you had successfully kept your sister away from harm for over a decade.. This is just one final push.. To finish what was started all those years ago when Malcom brought you for his cause.. "You're right.. I can do that.."

In a flash, the rusted steel door swings open with a clatter to reveal a very tall, very handsome heavy featured man, with caramel eyes and thick dark hair.. "Khorosho, chto ty zdes', brat.. Irlandtsy stali razdrazhat'.."

He addresses the Viking respectfully l with a sharp nod and Hunter chuckles darkly, though you have no idea what he is saying..

The only parts you manage to catch are that he calls Hunter "brother" and says something about "the Irish" other than that, you've got nothing..

Your Russian language skills are basically none..

The dark Russian turns his interested eye on you.. "Iz thiz 'er?"

His accent is thick and fluid.. Harsh yet smooth at the same time..

Hunter nods.. "Da.. This is our bomb-maker, KC.. Kirby, this is Konstantin Ivanov, Bratva Captain and Ex-KGB security expert..."

Konstantin nods to you before extending his large hand.. "Your devicez are enviable, mizz.."

What a strange compliment from a truely terrifying man.. "I'm glad.."

You're glad, because if others envy them it means they dont know how to make them.. It is of some relief to know that Darby hasnt sold your original ULTRA design to anyone else..

Konstantin smirks as he shakes you're hand in a firm grip.. "The weazel awaitz uz.."

You look up at Hunter, confused.. "He means Declan.."

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