After the silent courier left, a heavy stillness settled over the cold Kyiv apartment. Alexey and Anna sat at the small kitchen table, unable to move for a while. On Anna’s lap, the rescued little hero slept peacefully, his tiny nose twitching now and then.
Waiting for word from military police turned into its own kind of torture. Every minute dragged, and the mind naturally filled the silence with worst-case scenarios. Alexey held Anna’s cold hands in his, trying to pass along some of the steadiness he’d learned to hold onto at the front.
Outside the kitchen window, a cold fall rain began to tap against the old metal ledge. The weather matched the mood they had lived in for months. But now, under all that fear, something else had taken root too: the solid hope of justice.
Alexey kept replaying Igor’s smug words and shameless behavior. The man had manipulated people’s patriotism, collected large donations, and turned the death of a friend into a public-relations shield for himself. It was hard to think of anything lower.
Around noon, the screen of Alexey’s secure phone finally lit up with a call from Major Kovalenko. He grabbed it immediately and put it on speaker so Anna could hear. The major’s voice was clipped and direct.
He said an оперативная group had already moved on the abandoned garage listed on the collar. They had entered quietly and found a large cache of stolen military equipment inside. Every box of drones and thermal scopes still carried the markings of their ruined volunteer fund.
The information scratched into the cat’s collar had checked out completely. Crime-scene technicians had also found dark brown stains in the garage that were very likely Mikhail’s blood. Kovalenko said the next step was to catch Igor in the act while trying to sell the stolen goods.
He explained that his people had already spread word through black-market channels that a wealthy buyer was looking for military optics. Igor had taken the bait exactly as expected and had already set up a meeting for that evening.
Alexey said at once, in a hard voice, that he intended to be there. He told the major he had a right to see justice done for his friend and for his family. Kovalenko let out a long breath, then after a short pause agreed—but with conditions.
Alexey would stay only with the outer perimeter team. Under no circumstances was he to make direct contact with Igor before the arrest was complete. Alexey clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt, but he agreed. An order was an order.
After the call, he began quietly assembling his gear. He checked the holster, spare magazines, and the edge on his field knife. Anna watched with fear and pain as he moved through those familiar routines.
She knew she had no real right to stop him. Mikhail had been like family to both of them, and his murder demanded justice. She stepped up behind Alexey and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against the rough fabric of his uniform.
He turned, kissed her gently on the forehead, and promised he would come home. He told her to lock the door behind him and not open it for anyone until he called. At that moment, the rescued cat jumped down from a chair, walked over to him, and gave a quiet, encouraging meow.
After saying goodbye, Alexey stepped into the dark stairwell, feeling adrenaline begin to rise again. He moved quickly down the concrete steps, shifting from tired husband back into soldier. Outside, a plain dark-blue van with tinted windows waited by the curb.
He climbed inside, where several armed military police officers sat in silence. The air in the van smelled of gun oil, black coffee, and cheap cigarettes. Major Kovalenko sat at a folding table, studying a detailed map of the abandoned garage complex.
The officer gave Alexey a short nod and went straight into the briefing. The plan was tight and carefully thought through, with every likely escape route covered. The goal was simple: take Igor alive and get a clean, undeniable case.
The role of wealthy buyer would be played by an experienced operative with the call sign Falcon, wired with hidden microphones. He would confirm the goods were on site and hand over marked cash. The moment the money touched Igor’s hands, a code word would trigger the takedown.
Alexey was assigned the farthest position, near a concrete fence where Igor might try to break out if things went wrong. He was given a portable signal jammer and a radio earpiece to stay in contact with the team. He checked the equipment carefully, feeling the familiar weight of gear settle across his shoulders.
The van pulled away and disappeared into the gray mist of wet Kyiv streets. Every man inside was wrapped in his own thoughts. Alexey stared through a narrow gap in the tint at the slick pavement outside, speaking silently in his mind to Mikhail.
He promised his dead friend that tonight justice would finally be done, whatever it cost. This long, ugly story of stolen drones and ruined lives had to end now. The abandoned garage complex on the edge of the city was getting closer by the minute.
The operatives began slipping quietly into position around the perimeter, blending into brick walls and rusted gates. The cold wind picked up, masking the sound of footsteps and making conditions ideal for an ambush. The trap for Igor Tkachenko was ready and waiting…
