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Nina shouldered her shotgun, turning in a slow 360, her ears alert to the light crunching of snow that had come from her left. It could’ve been a multitute of things—sticks falling, an animal, the wind.
It could be an enemy.
Nobody was supposed to know she was here, past borders into the serbian wilderness; that was the whole point of the mission.
In, and then out.
Simple .
She had done this before, and she could do it again.
She would do it again.
She wo-
The rustling came again, from her right this time, and she turned, the barrel of her shotgun pointed at a burly man.
Under any other circumstances, he might’ve looked threatening, but his eyebrows and eyelashes were covered in a thick coat of snow, as well as the bandana that covered the lower half of his face.
It looked like he had just fallen over into the snow, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from bursting into laughter.
“ Kto ty? ” she asked, her voice thick with a Russian accent. Who are you?
“ Ya mog by zadat' tebe tot zhe vopros. ” his voice was rough, like salt water and rocky shores. I could ask you the same question.
Nina narrowed her eyes, glaring down the barrel of the shotgun. “Ya snachala sprosil. ” I asked first.
The man paused, before lifting up a hand to dust off the snow still stuck to his face, before responding. “Matthias. ”
He—Matthias—looked at her expectantly, his ice blue eyes glancing between her and the muzzle of the shotgun.
She let out a breath, lowering the shotgun before holstering it on her back. “ Mila. ”
——————————————————————
Apparently, the man was an ice fisher who lived in the middle of the woods on the edge of a frozen lake. If you had looked at it, it seemed like an empty, snowy field.
But Nina had seen the maps. She knew about the big lake that spanned over the area, how it went so deep. She had to know. It was apart of her job.
He seemed nice enough on the walk to the small cabin—only two rooms, a main area with a bed, as well as a bathroom.
She had told him that she had been out hunting with a few of her friends and got lost, and that she didn’t need help, but he insisted in that same, rural way that a lot of burly fishermen did.
There was something…off about him, though. Nina couldn’t put her finger on it, but he didn’t seem like he was just some ice fisher.
There was something else. He was hiding something.
And she was going to find out.
She paused, silent. Listening. After a moment, she heard the water turn on in the shower, and she started her search.
The place wasn’t huge , so she started from the front, where the kitchen was. Rummaging through drawers and cabinets, checking behind pots and the utensil holders. She poked her head under the skin, only to be met with plumbing and some cleaning supplies.
Nina made sure to close all of the cabinets behind her before weaving into the small corner that could barely be considered a “living space”, with an armchair, a side table, and a small bookshelf. She left the side table alone, it not having any drawers or pieces that popped out, and after moving the seat cushions, she moved onto the bookshelf.
It had to be a cover for something. Nobody read this much dull and boring literature. Nina was a fan of the classics, but it looked like he had picked every single uninteresting one and put them all on one shelf.
It was revolting.
She thumbed through a Russian copy of Wuthering Heights , skimming the pages, trying to see if there was anything hidden within the creases. Matthias apparently had a habit of dog-earing book pages, which Nina knew would’ve sent someone like Zoya into a coma.
She put the book back and continued combing through the rest of the bookshelf, looking at the back wall of the shelf, in between tightly-stacked books, anywhere that could possibly hide-
“Chto ty delayesh'?” What are you doing?
Nina spun around, a copy of The Catcher in the Rye in her hands. “Prosto lyubuyus' vashey kollektsiyey. Zamechatel'nyye knigi.” She responded swiftly. Just admiring your collection. Wonderful books.
It pained her to compliment the books on the dreaded shelf, but she managed a polite smile.
Matthias raised his eyebrows but said nothing. His hair was still wet, and it was a surprise to Nina that it hadn’t frozen with how cold it was in the small hut. Not nearly as cold as it was outside, but her point still stood.
That was close .