Page 31 of Mission Shift

The tall plants scratched the crap out of our arms and legs, but we didn’t have the luxury to care.

The air was thick—not just with humidity but with the fear of being hunted. Every odd noise stirred the corn around us and made my pulse spike. I fought the urge to look over my shoulder every ten seconds, hoping that Daria would pick up any threat long before I did.

She moved like a shadow, her footsteps barely disturbing the earth beneath her as she kept up a punishing pace. I, on theother hand, was struggling to match her stealth and sounded more like a lumbering cow. The damp ground softened some of the noise, but I couldn’t shake the worry that my next step would give us away and Russian soldiers would swarm us. I adjusted the pack on my back and focused on stepping where Daria stepped and keeping my head down.

She did stop every now and then, to pull a small device from her belt. It had a GPS that gave her our coordinates. Each time she did this, her eyes would dart to the horizon and scan the landscape. She was remaining vigilant, listening for any danger before it even got close. I admired her focus, the way she instinctively mapped out the safest route. The only thing keeping me from losing it was the fact that she hadn’t shown any sign of panic.

We kept traveling over the rough terrain as the hot sun moved across the sky, my lungs burning from the constant exertion, sweat trickling down my back. After what felt like hours, we slowed from a full run to a steady jog and eventually down to a brisk walk. My mind kept racing with thoughts of what might happen if they found us. What would I do if Daria got hurt—or worse?

I shook the thought off and focused on each step, counting them in my head like a mantra.

Suddenly, Daria raised a hand and froze. I stopped dead in my tracks. She crouched low, listening intently. The wind shifted, bringing the faint rustle of distant leaves. Nothing else. She exhaled through her nose, then slowly rose to her full height.

“I guess it was nothing,” she muttered. She checked the GPS again and returned it to her belt.

We pressed on, the miles stretching endlessly before us. My body ached from the constant movement, but I kept my mouth shut. If she could handle this without complaint, so could I. Neither of us attempted conversation. The silence between uswas an invisible wall we were unwilling to break down—not yet. I wondered if she was thinking about the sex we’d had, and if I’d ever see her let down her guard like that again. The sheer bliss on her face when she’d come apart in my arms was burned into my mind.

Finally, as the afternoon sun began its descent and the oppressive heat became harder to ignore, we broke through the edge of a cornfield. Just beyond it, stood several plum trees tantalizing us with their branches full of dark, ripe fruit. Daria slowed and came to a stop under one of them. I was grateful; the exhaustion was starting to become difficult to ignore.

“We’ll rest here,” she said quietly. She looked ready for a break too.

I didn’t argue. The sweat clinging to my skin wasn’t doing much to cool me down, and the sight of the plums was a godsend. I followed her lead as she plucked one from a low-hanging branch, wiped it on her sleeve, and took a bite. A subtle sigh of contentment escaped her lips as the sweet juice hit her tongue.

I grabbed a plum for myself and bit into it. The sweetness exploded across my taste buds. God, these were so good. We picked a couple more and ate in silence for a few minutes, and my anxiety was momentarily softened by the simplicity of the moment.

Daria stood near me, her head tilted back slightly as she stared up at the sky through the leaves. A drop of juice rolled down her chin. Without thinking, I reached over and gently wiped it away with my thumb. Her gaze snapped to mine, her lips parting slightly.

I leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. When our lips met, it was soft and tentative at first—just a brush. Then she leaned into me, her mouth warm and inviting as the kiss deepened. For a moment, all the chaosaround us vanished, replaced by the taste of plums and the quiet hum of the breeze through the trees.

But just as quickly, she pulled away, taking a step back.

“We can’t do this.” She wiped at her mouth. “We can’t afford to be distracted by anything personal. What happened back at that farmhouse was a big mistake—giving away our location and the direction we traveled in. Honestly, I can’t believe they haven’t found us or sent another helicopter. Maybe we got lucky, and they didn’t see our stuff because they were incompetent. Who knows? But I’m not going to let my guard down again.”

I didn’t respond right away, waiting for her to say what else she was thinking.

“The sex,” she said, her eyes meeting mine with an unreadable expression, “it was…great. More than great. But it was just two strangers finding solace in a stressful moment. Life-and-death situations do that to people.” She paused, frowning a little before continuing. “It can’t happen again. Right now, our only focus has to be getting across the border and into safe hands. After that, we go our separate ways.”

“Separate ways?” I repeated, though I shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Yes. You have your life. I have mine,” she said. “We’re from two completely different worlds. Now that my cover is blown, there’s a huge target on my back. I’ll be on the run, and anyone near me will be in the FSB’s sights too. My job is done as soon as you’re safe.”

She shifted on her feet, her gaze softening just a fraction. “What happened between us—it’s just a fond memory now. Two souls passing by each other on their life’s journey. Nothing more.”

I clenched my jaw but didn’t argue. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that I wasn’t ready to walk away from her. But now wasn’t the time. Optimism had its place, and this wasn’t it. Shehad enough to worry about without me complicating things any worse than I already had. Besides, I wasn’t about to drop the bombshell about Nik and the kind of help he could offer—how I was practically related to a Russian mafia prince with a reach that extended far beyond what most people could imagine.

I swallowed my words and nodded instead. “Right. Let’s focus on finding a place to hunker down for the night.”

For a moment, she stared at me as if she didn’t quite believe I was letting it go that easily. I wasn’t, but there were battles worth fighting, and this wasn’t one of them. I searched my mind for something to steer the conversation away from this dangerous territory.

Finally, I broke the silence. “How do you know this area so well?”

Daria stilled for a moment, her gaze narrowing as if she was debating how much to tell me. She wiped her hands on her pants and glanced off toward the tree line in the distance. “I had to learn,” she said eventually. “My work required…familiarity with routes like this.”

“Work?” I prompted gently.

She gave me a look that was half-warning, half-placating. But instead of shutting me down completely, she sighed and pulled down on one of the branches of the tree. “Being a double agent isn’t just about passing information. It’s about knowing where to go, how to get people and certain hardware across borders without being seen. Smugglers, intelligence networks—we all use similar paths.”

I nodded slowly, processing her words. It made sense. Of course someone like her would know all the weak points in the system. Still, hearing her talk about it brought home just how deeply embedded she was in this war. She not only had to be good at what she did—she had to be a master of survival, always thinking ten steps ahead.

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