Chapter Forty-Three
St Petersburg, Russia
Olesya found Illarion on a park bench in Nevsky Prospekt. He sat opposite the monument of the Empress of Russia, hands clasped between his legs and a beanie pulled over his head. It was strange to see him in civilian clothes.
She walked across the thawing snow, doing her best to hide her limp, and sat beside him.
‘I like this statue,’ he said, turning to her. ‘Any sprains or breaks?’
‘None.’ She touched her chest, thankful for the liquid body armor. ‘But my whole body is one giant bruise now.’
‘Then you are fortunate,’ he said. ‘How about Ark?’
‘He’s recovering. Slowly. But he’s alive, at least.’
‘I see.’
‘DC didn’t make it. I know you liked him.’
Illarion frowned. ‘There are few people I could trust in this world. He was one of them.’ He
