Nikita

[NIKITA]

"I hate this," Qiao complained. He had been fretting this day since they came from the commander's office. He wasn't excited at all, and nothing could change his mind.

He was tired of everything around him, and now here he was, stuck in traffic because he had to attend to a promise he had made.

Nikita had to be a lucky man because despite how murderous Qiao Xi was at the moment, he wasn't going to back out of the hell hole. This would be a special kind of hell.

"Oh, quit complaining, will you? I wonder how your new driver would feel with all of this. He's got a whiny ȧss boss, ha," Carrie scolded Qiao even though she was also worried about the outcome of all this.

She didn't know what was ahead of them; all she knew was that she was doing this for her best friend. 

"Sometimes, I wonder why I agreed to this. I swear Nikita will make me grow white hair even before I have a girlfrie—" Qiao said before the car suddenly came to an instant halt. What the hell was happening.

"Hey, what happened?" Qiao asked.

"Sorry, sir, I was avoiding a vehicle that was trying to overtake. I'm so sorry," the driver said, and Qiao couldn't help but sigh. Here they were and hadn't even gotten past the first day, let alone it's beginning, and he already felt like this was the cause.

He and Carrie weren't doing this for the money, no. They were doing this out of love and loyalty, and that was something they would have to remind themselves each time.

"It's okay, just be careful," Carrie said to the driver, who just muttered a thank you.

Today, Todorov looked beautiful, not that it was ugly on other days, but then the soldiers had not been paying attention to the city of love.

They had always lived in shelters trying to avoid being blown to bits or fighting off the Russian enemies alongside ensuring their team members made it to their families. The sun was already up even though the morning was a little quiet.

It was beautiful; however, inside the car they shared, Qiao made Carrie's ears bleed.

"I should have eaten more food; my stomach hurts," Qiao said, and the driver let out a small laugh before handing him a  sandwich. This man was heaven-sent, indeed.

"You are a blessing from a different world, man," Qiao said.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at the Pavlenko headquarters, and as expected, there were a lot of reporters and people waiting for them.

The soldiers had not been used to this kind of attention, and it was understandable that Qiao was trying to hide under his seat. The lieutenant commander with badges of honor that could fill any wall. The man wasn't scared of bullets flying over his head or even hitting him.

The man who could stand in the form of the bullets like he was a human shield was scared of human beings who were as harmless as an ant could get.

The Pavlenko building was a beautiful thirty-eight-story building that screamed elegance and power even from the outside. It was located just ten minutes away from the business district of Todorov city, a place where there were corporations, and there was no noise around.

The building stood out among the many buildings around it because of its structure and may also be because of the power that came from it. It was the very center of everything Pavlenko, and it was something huge.

Everyone either wanted to be part of the company or condemned it because they wouldn't be part of it. Pavlenko was beautiful, no doubt, and today, even with the annoying crowd, it was still a beauty to behold.

"Nikita should have given us an orientation," Carrie said, making Qiao look at her.

"What," Carrie asked like she hadn't said something out of the ordinary that made Qiao's ears want to hurt.

"You agreed with me. Sure, you're not being a whiny ȧss like me, but you fuċkɨnġ agreed with me. This calls for a celebration, and we should do a stakeout later and try to go hunting," Qiao said before he realized their truth.

He and his friend had already gotten their eighteen-month leave approved, which meant that they had no business camouflaging or doing anything military-like.

Maybe they regretted their decisions.

Maybe it was too much for them, and perhaps this was just not their calling, but what else could they do when Nikita had woken them up with good luck texts? What are they supposed to do when they are doing this out of the goodness of their heart?

"Relax, Qiao, consider this a battlefield. We always win our wars, remember? Besides, it's just eighteen months.

"Nikita had said all we will do is participate in the decision-making, which also means that we can show up here once every two weeks or even once a month as long as everything is fine. It will give us more time to work on the task force, remember?" Carrie said, trying to encourage Qiao, who was hopeless.

This wasn't going to be easy, but maybe Carrie was right. If they treated this as a battlefield, it would be easier to win than if they just sat and pretended like a typical occasion, and nothing about them screamed normal.

On the first day, regular CEOs always walked to their offices while dressed in tuxedos and hotter suits, but here they were, the Russian lieutenant commanders, in their uniforms. If anything, they were wearing their black military clothing, which had their badges dangling off their uniforms.

It was a sign of how much power they held and how much effort they had put in to protect Russia.

Nikita hadn't wanted to dictate their dressing. Even he was never interested in suits, if anything, there were times he came to the Pavlenko board meeting while in his doctor's clothing. It was just their kind of normal. And it was also something that was rubbing off on his friends too.

"We can do this, Lieutenant Commander Xi," Carrie said, encouraging her partner. For a couple that had been too excited to take the responsibility off Nikita's shoulders three days ago, they looked lost.

"Roger that Lieutenant commander Tabakov. Now let's go and face the shark's sister," Qiao said as their driver drove into the parking lots. They had figured it would be easier if they didn't use the basement parking lots because it would save them time and energy.

"Good luck, sir," the driver commented when he parked the car.

Being Qiao's bodyguard, too, he walked out after the two commanders who clearly didn't need his protection. But he had to do his job well; after all, he was a warrior, a man who knew more about combat than normal humans, but here and now, he would be the security guard.

That much was enough until they would find their alpha, who had a lot of explaining to do.