Second Strike

CHAPTER 49

^MOSCOW,

^{AUGUST 17, 2:30 A.M. MSK}

Egorshin couldn’t very well return to Tatiana’s apartment with soiled trousers. So after the degradation and humiliation at the hands of Stetchkin, he went to his own apartment, showered, and put on some fresh clothes.

He sat morosely at his kitchen table with a glass of vodka. He didn’t drink it; he rarely drank. It was just a security blanket.

Stetchkin was insane. He was also powerful and cunning—a terrifying combination of qualities in an enemy.

Stetchkin’s hatred for him was baffling, but Egorshin no longer dwelt on it. Regardless of the reason or lack thereof, Stetchkin had identified Egorshin as someone to torment, and there was nothing he could do about it. The important thing was survival. Egorshin was certain the reprieve he’d gotten earlier was fleeting and Stetchkin was determined to kill him.

He spun the glass slowly on the table. His immediate objective was to survive the next twenty-four hours with his prefrontal lobes still intact. The only person he knew who might help him achieve that objective was his uncle, whom he hadn’t been able to reach since leaving Stetchkin’s office. Morosov, he hoped, had spoken to President Mikhailov’s senior aide, Alexei Vasiliev. Mikhailov would stop this lunacy. Mikhailov needed Egorshin.

Or did he?