Chapter Twelve: The End of Kravik

Konstantin Kravik stood in the center of the room, phone in hand, surrounded by two guards.

He was older than his files suggested. Gray hair, tired eyes, a face that had seen too much.

But his eyes were sharp.

And when he saw Arya, he smiled.

“Another waitress?” he said. “Does Martinez hire all his soldiers from restaurants now?”

“Put down the phone.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Konstantin laughed. “You’re shaking, little girl. You’ve never killed anyone before.”

Arya’s hands were not shaking.

But she didn’t correct him.

“I said put down the phone.”

Konstantin’s smile faded.

He looked at her face, really looked at her.

“I know you,” he said slowly. “You’re Michael Nolan’s sister. The accountant who tried to leave.”

Arya felt cold spread through her chest.

“You killed him.”

“Victor killed him. I just gave the order.” Konstantin shrugged. “He was going to talk. Couldn’t have that. You understand.”

“I understand that you’re going to die tonight.”

“Am I?” Konstantin looked at the door. “Martinez isn’t here. Your little gun has six bullets. I have two guards with automatic weapons. What do you think happens next?”

Arya smiled.

It was not a nice smile.

“I think you should look behind you.”

Konstantin turned.

The door exploded inward.

Leon stepped through the smoke, weapon raised.

“Hello, Konstantin.”

The guards moved.

Leon dropped them both before they could fire.

Then he was standing in front of Konstantin Kravik, gun pressed against the old man’s forehead.

“Any last words?”

Konstantin looked at him.

Then he looked at Arya.

And he laughed.

“She’s going to be a problem for you, you know. Women like her always are. They see too much. They remember too much.”

Leon pulled the trigger.

Arya didn’t flinch at the sound.

She’d been waiting for it for three years.

Leon lowered his weapon and looked at her.

“You okay?”

“No.”

She walked past him, out of the room, up the basement stairs, through the main floor where bodies lay scattered like broken dolls.

Outside, the night air was cold and clean.

She leaned against a tree and vomited.

Leon found her a few minutes later.

He didn’t say anything. Just stood beside her, waiting.

“It’s different,” Arya said finally. “Knowing what it looks like. Seeing it in files, in surveillance footage. It’s different when you’re there.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I’d feel something. Satisfaction. Closure. Something.”

“And?”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I feel empty.”

Leon nodded.

“That’s normal. The satisfaction comes later. When you realize they can’t hurt anyone else. When you sleep through the night without dreaming about them.”

Arya looked at him.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve done this before. More times than I want to remember.” He paused. “It never gets easier. But it does get necessary.”

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