The next fortnight passes swiftly, and for the first time since we left London, Oxana seems calm and focused. She's naturally secretive, an archetypal lone wolf, and planning an assassination with me is not easy for her. It isn't easy for me, either; murder is murder after all, even if the intended victim is a horrible person like the Pakhan. But we've both kept going. Oxana has begun to share her thoughts with me, and I've managed to ignore what she dismissively refers to as my "civilian guilt," and concentrate on practicalities and logistics. I've always been good at that.

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