Sevastyan

In the early hours of the morning, Sevastyan’s phone rang. He stood and went into the kitchen to answer it. It was Bai, one of the directors from Yadro.

“The bounty on your head has been removed.”

“I see. Thank you for the information.”

“The individuals responsible have been chastised. All contractors have been stood down. But they are asking for your presence in South Korea. The wife of the murdered client wishes to speak to you herself.”

“Is she the one who put out the hit?”

Bai said nothing.

Sevastyan sighed softly. “Is this an order, Director?”

“Not an order. Yet. Something that is being negotiated.”

“I see. Thank you for the information.”

Bai hung up. Sevastyan stood in the kitchen and stared at the wall. Sometimes, just sometimes, he wished that he had more power. Obviously the trail of bodies he’d left in South Korea the first time had missed a few imbeciles. And potentially grief-stricken wives with the power to drive others mad.