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pocket he pulled a small teddy bear and held it out. She didn’t move, fear still on her face. He laid it on the floor between them and then backed away. She moved tentatively out from the stairs and grabbed the teddy bear, but said nothing.

“Milena, it is your brother, say thank you,” said Sophie, despite also looking at Nikita with some concern as he sat down beside the fire.

“Thank you,” she squeaked. Nikita looked unhappily at them all for the first time in five years, feeling a leper among his own family.

***

Later that night, as Nikita sat by the fire, letting the warmth wash over him, his father walked into the room to join him. “They are both sound asleep; it’s been an emotional day for them. For us all,” he added, passing Nikita a whiskey, keeping another for himself. Nodding in agreement, Nikita held the whiskey up to the firelight to inspect it.

“They’ve put you in the arsehole of the world, but I see they are at least keeping you well, Father.” He put his drink down to one side. “But it is not for me just yet.”

Gabriel nodded acceptingly. “They kept their promise; we are well taken care of. Although, we hadn’t imagined we would be quite so far from civilisation. It must be harder than they thought to hide a black family in Russia.” They both laughed bitterly. “I do worry what it will do to Milena to never have other children to play with. She never complains but sometimes she looks so lonely, it is not fair for her. Every child should have other children to play with. Maybe one day we will be able to return to Nigeria; you never know.”

“I am hopeful that Colonel Klitchkov will release me from my duties once I have returned from the US…”

“If you return from the US,” replied Gabriel. “Do not trust the word of the colonel, Niki. He would as soon throw you to the dogs as go out of his way to help you.”

“When I return from the US,” said Nikita pointedly, “then I will try to take us all home to Nigeria.”

“Truly?”

“Truly, Father, and we can be a family once more.”

“This is not the life I wanted for you. Your eyes have lost their light.”

“I have become who I must to survive.”

“It is not too late for you to turn your back on this life son; we can all run.”

Nikita felt the pull of tears taking him over, before resolving himself. KGB agents do not cry, he reminded himself. “There is nowhere we can go that they would not find us. This is the only way. Whatever they ask of me I will do, without hesitation, because I do it for us,” he said flatly.

CHAPTER 5

The snow was falling as Nikita walked up the track towards where he had left his car on the distance road the next morning. He could still hear his mother’s sobs following the latest goodbye, but he already felt cold to it. His focus had shifted to his next mission, and his heart was steeled against the things he knew he must do.

He spotted small footsteps leading up to the snowman, but did a mock jump when Milena leapt from behind it, giggling. She wore Gabriel’s ushanka; it fell over her round face, forcing her to keep pushing it up.

Suddenly she stopped giggling and looked up at him, her big brown eyes a pool of sorrow at his going.

“Come back, Niki; I love you.”

His steely defenses nearly shattered at her words, and he bent down to kiss her on the forehead.

“I will always come back, Milena, always.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away. Milena watched him until he disappeared into the swirling snow.

***

The KGB safe house was in the Yakimenka District on the west bank of the Moskva River in south central Moscow.

There was no need for stealth — they knew he was coming. He had seen the watchers on the roofs and streets clumsily trying to hide in the shadows. If the spies had not relayed messages of his arrival, the sneering gang of teenage boys following him with exaggerated monkey noises would have.

Must stay calm, thought Nikita, reminding himself that without breaking sweat he could disable them all. He could, and maybe one day he would. But not today — he must stay focused. He suppressed the uncomfortable thoughts and moved towards the concrete block, climbing the wrought-iron stairs. The door opened as he approached, and he moved inside without breaking stride.

He knew better than to expect this secret hideout to be full of high-tech gadgets, but even he was surprised by the sparsity of the room. Peeling wallpaper looked out on a room with only a deeply sagging sofa, an old paint-smudged table and two frail-looking wooden chairs. A gently buzzing electric fire was the only sign of indulgence in the dour, grey room.

Sitting in one of chairs was Colonel Klitchkov, smiling that slightly crazed look he usually sported.

“It’s not the Ritz, but it’s a step up from a shack in Kamenka; am I right, Agent Allochka?”

“It’s functional,” shrugged Nikita, selecting a solid looking arm of the sofa to perch on.

“Is life merely about functionality for you?”

“It is about my family. As long as everything else functions correctly, then I will know that my family is safe.”

“And what of Mother Russia?”

“So long as Mother Russia functions correctly and keeps its promises to me, then I will keep my promises to it. My love and respect for it has yet to be fully earned.”

“Is there no love in your heart? Love of the mountains? The lakes? A woman, perhaps? Love of vodka even?” Klitchkov chuckled.

“Every Russian has a love of vodka. But no Russian has any love for

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