game of survival | tangerine ✓

3 | THE HEIR

"Well, he's not a complete monster," Kliment said, putting her hands up in defense. Of course, it was a lie, but it was fun to joke about. "He didn't make her sit through it five times."

"Yeah, he just cut once, didn't he?" Tangerine finished.

"Got her blood all over my shoes," she added with a pout.

Vasili snorted and rolled his eyes. "Bought you two new pairs as an apology."

Lemon eyed the smiling sibling for a moment, wondering if he'd miscalculated his Rosie diagnosis from earlier. But he shook his head and got back to work, grabbing one of the black strips from Tangerine, and before Vasili knew it, his left hand was tightly zip-tied to the armrest.

"Ow!" he hissed.

Kliment looked at his wrist with wide eyes and then over at Tangerine, but it was too late. A second after her brother was restrained, so was she. It was useless as she tugged on the zip-tie, unable to loosen it.

"Not exactly what I had pictured when I thought of you tying me up," Kliment seethed, glaring up at Tangerine.

"And why don't ya paint a pretty picture of what you did have in mind?" he asked in a flirty tone. He was satisfied when she scoffed in annoyance and turned away. "Our job is to keep you both safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransom money inside. And I plan on completin' my job and keeping..."

Tangerine trailed off while looking around the compartment, not spotting the silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle anywhere. "Lemon?"

He simply hummed in response, unsure of what was bothering his brother.

"Where's the briefcase?"

"Oh, I stashed it."

He took in a deep breath to try and calm down before leaning forward, clasping his hands together on the table, not bothering to hide how displeased he was. "The case, Lemon. Go get me the fucking case."

As Lemon got up and walked to the baggage compartment, Vasili let out a low sigh, eyeing Tangerine with disinterest. "You're a liability, you know? To our father."

Tangerine looked away from Lemon's back to study the almost mocking expression on Vasili's tired face. He also noted that Kliment went quiet and was staring at the table. "Hmm?"

Vasili leaned as close as he could while restrained and with the table between them. "He doesn't need a reason to kill people like you. He needs a reason not to. Does he have one?"

Perhaps the hired help didn't understand, as he'd never met their father, but Kliment understood her brother perfectly. The minute they stopped being useful, when they lost even a fraction of the White Death's interest, they'd be dead and no one would bother to remember them. In fact, taking on this assignment while not being a part of the organization was practically signing their death certificate, though she wasn't going to let them know that.

Lemon and Tangerine were living on borrowed time.

Tangerine, who was typically quick-witted, genuinely had no idea how to respond to Vasili's words of warning. Thankfully, his phone on the table vibrated with a call, which he stood to answer. "That's fucking confusin'," he managed to say, looking away from the siblings. "Hello?"

Both Kliment and Vasili watched him with interest as he responded to whoever was on the line. "What, you mean this dickhead with the silly face tattoos and the little princess with an attitude? Yeah, they're right here."

While the person on the other end spoke, Kliment looked at her brother and whispered, "They are silly."

"Says the one with a butterfly tramp stamp," he reminded her, remembering how upset their mother was when Kliment came home the day after she turned sixteen with the fresh tattoo.