One week later, Ral and Louis stood in Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport, surrounded by more security personnel than seemed reasonable for two civilians who'd technically committed no crimes on Russian soil. Elena coordinated their departure with characteristic efficiency, ensuring diplomatic clearances were properly documented and no last-minute complications prevented their exit.
"Your flight boards in forty minutes," Elena stated, checking her tablet. "American embassy has staff waiting at gate to escort you through security. Russian Federation wants no additional incidents associated with your case."
"How considerate," Louis said dryly, her arm still in sling but healing well enough that doctors had cleared her for travel. "Nothing says diplomatic relations like making sure k********g vi
