A. R. I. A

Role Models and Reality

Alexei's Pov

As Mícheál's words echo in my ears, I pause for a moment, my gaze flickering over the scene before me.  Mícheál stands with defiance etched into every line of his face, his eyes blazing with righteous anger. But his words mean nothing to me. I don't care about his sense of morality or justice. All I care about is getting back to my family, getting back to the only thing that matters in this dying world.

"You're not doing the right thing!" Gallagher's voice rings out, filled with conviction.

I meet his gaze with a cold stare, my lips twisting into a derisive smirk. "I don't care," I reply simply, my voice tinged with bitterness.

How could I care when everything I hold dear is slipping through my fingers? When my own world is crumbling around me, torn apart by forces beyond my control? All I want is to protect my family, to shield them from the chaos and destruction that surrounds us.

I make my way swiftly to the exit, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. The urgency of the situation drives me forward, my mind focused on the task at hand.

As I reach the parking lot, my gaze falls upon Mia's car, a sleek black vehicle nestled among the rows of cars. Without hesitation, I approach it, my movements calm and deliberate.

Reaching the rear side of the car, I spot the small tracker I had discreetly attached during our earlier encounter during their from the hotel's parking lot . With a deft hand, I remove it, taking care not to leave any trace behind.

The tracker in hand, I make my way back to my own car, a nondescript sedan parked nearby.

 Slipping behind the wheel, I start the engine with practiced ease, the roar of the motor drowning out the chaos of the world around me.

With a flick of the wrist, I shift into gear and accelerate onto the empty street, the familiar hum of the engine soothing my frayed nerves. Despite the danger that lurks around every corner, I remain unfazed, my mind clear and focused on the mission ahead.

As I drive off into the night, the distant wail of sirens fading into the distance, I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

I navigate the deserted streets, my headlights cutting through the darkness as I make my way to the abandoned aircraft boneyard. It's a desolate place, a graveyard of forgotten planes and broken dreams, but it's also the perfect location for our clandestine meeting.

As I approach, I spot Nina Romanova and Anatoly Kuznetsov waiting for me, flanked by a few guards and a chopper ready for takeoff. Their presence fills me with a sense of reassurance, a reminder that I'm not alone in this dangerous world.

I bring my car to a stop and step out, greeted by the familiar faces of my comrades. "Добрый вечер, товарищи," I greet them in Russian, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

"Good evening, Alexei," Nina replies, her voice cool and composed. "Did you bring it?"Anatoly's eyes light up with anticipation as he chimes in. "Да, давай, покажи," he urges, his excitement palpable.

With a nod, I reach into my pocket and produce the device, holding it out for them to see. "Here it is," I say, my voice steady despite the weight of the situation.