The Last Hope

22

Selina

My eyes linger on the jet ready to depart on the platform as Roman stops the car near it. Eventually, Sasha and Roman decided to switch places, so Sasha had accompanied Sienna and the children a few hours ago despite my sister's protests. My heart tightens at the thought of my son bidding me farewell, his eyes shining with tears he had held back as the car carrying them drifted away from the manor. In a few hours, I would hold him in my arms, and I know with Sienna, he would be safe. I trusted her.

I unfasten my seatbelt with a trembling hand as Nikolai opens my door, extending his hand to help me descend from the tall 4X4. I thank him, tightening the folds of my wool jacket against the chilly morning wind. Roman swiftly climbs the steep steps of the plane with disconcerting ease. I see Grigori approaching a few men near the wing, who listen to him with great attention, almost idolatrously.

"Let's go," says Nikolai after retrieving two suitcases from the trunk along with my bag, I try to take my bag to help, but he shakes his head as he passes me quickly, climbing the steps with the same ease as his brother, plus the suitcases. How is that even possible?

I sigh and begin to ascend much slower than the two terminators, gripping the railing to avoid tripping on the steps glistening with morning dew. I envy my sister's physical condition even more; she would have surely had no trouble with such a trivial thing, but being locked up for eight years hindered any physical activity, excluding the moments when I was beaten. I grimace at my dark humor; maybe I really was going mad. Suddenly, I raise my eyes as footsteps quickly descend the stairs, furrowing my brow as I see Nikolai approaching.

My feet leave the ground suddenly as his arm wraps around my waist, and in less than a few seconds, I find myself in front of the door leading to the aircraft. I blink as he looks at me with a slight smile, "thank you," I whisper.
He nods, gesturing for me to enter with his arm, I cast a hesitant glance at the cabin before finally stepping inside, for my son.

My eyes widen at the luxurious interior of the plane—beige leather seats arranged in squares of four, two facing each other, the floor covered in fine white carpet, and the ceiling also clad in beige leather. I sink into one of the seats next to a window, almost groaning with pleasure as I sink into the soft seat. Nikolai sits beside me, removing his light coat and suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his muscular forearms, leaning closer to me, invading my personal space, I stop breathing as he fastens my seatbelt, adjusting it around my waist, then leans back to buckle his own. I inhale deeply, turning my face towards the window to hide my cheeks, which are starting to heat up, his scent and presence intoxicating all my senses.

Grigori enters, greeting the stewardess who appears behind the thick curtains at the front of the plane, she closes the aircraft door, and the engines start, making me tense up in my seat. "Ladies and gentlemen, I wish you all a pleasant journey and thank you for choosing Roman airline. I advise you to fasten your seatbelts and inform you that there is only one parachute at the rear of the aircraft for the first one who reaches it in case of need! So, I hope you have good cardio!" Roman's voice suddenly resonates through the speakers, and I furrow my brow, looking up with wide eyes at Nikolai, who rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"My cardio is very bad," I murmur, feeling myself pale. Nikolai lowers his gaze to me and stares at me for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, making me furrow my brow even more. "Don't worry, Solnychko, Roman is a very good pilot; he will take us to our destination. And even if someone had to use that parachute, I'd make sure it's you," he says, smiling softly, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"I don't know how to parachute," I reply like an idiot, without thinking, all my attention focused on his touch. His smile widens as he brushes his lips against my forehead. "I'll teach you on the spot, don't worry," he whispers, his shoulders shaking again with laughter, and I can't help but let a smile stretch across my lips as the plane begins to move.

Nikolai

I adjust the blanket over Selina's curled-up body, who fell asleep shortly after eating a few hours ago. We're almost arriving in San Francisco, our home in the United States where we manage all our business. I received a call four hours ago from Sasha, informing me they landed safely and were on their way home, much to my relief. I preferred to wait until Selina woke up to tell her the news, which would finally allow her to relax after worrying so much about her son and sister.

I furrow my brows, lifting my gaze from my computer as the plane suddenly shakes, Grigori abruptly sits up from the seat where he had dozed off, giving me a worried look, as a much stronger jolt startles Selina awake. "What's happening?" she asks, lost and frightened, clinging to my arm. I grasp her hand gently, saying, "It must be turbulence, don't worry..." but Roman's voice interrupts my attempt to reassure her.

"Uh, guys, I think we really need to decide who's going to use this parachute," our little brother's hesitant voice suddenly resonates. Roman hesitating? That wasn't good at all. "Don't move," I tell Selina before following Grigori towards the front of the plane. Grigori knocks on the cockpit door, which quickly unlocks, and we enter into chaos. Several lights flash as the plane's robotic voice issues alerts. "What's going on?" grumbles our eldest brother, clinging to the copilot's seat to maintain balance amidst the shaking.

"It's that our engines are about to fail," declares our younger brother through clenched teeth, freezing us all in place. "How can they fail?" I ask, leaning over his shoulder as he points to a light. "We're out of fuel, no fuel means no engine," he explains, "the amount loaded wasn't enough."

"How is that possible?" I ask, straightening up as Grigori struggles to sit on the copilot's seat. It was a common route we took with this jet; the technicians should have been accustomed to preparing the plane, such an oversight was impossible. If it wasn't intentional. "Rasili," I hiss between clenched teeth as Grigori looks up at me, confused. "Why would he do that? If we crash, Selina won't survive either."

"He doesn't want us to crash, he wants us to land, but not in San Francisco," Roman responds, grimacing as another light turns on, "with what we have left, we can easily make a landing at Fremont Aerodrome, but we don't have enough to go further."

"They've probably set a trap at the aerodrome. They're waiting for us," I say, jaw clenched. I didn't know how that bastard got information about our flight, but he wouldn't lay a hand on Selina anytime soon.

"What do we do?" Roman asks, looking at me over his shoulder. I take out my phone from my pocket and dial Sasha's number, but nothing, no network. "We don't have many options. We'll land and we'll fight," I say, gripping his shoulder. He stares at me for a few seconds and nods, "I told you we should have armed the plane," he grumbles, turning around, "be ready to land in twenty minutes," he says, pressing buttons.

Grigori and I quickly join Selina, who looks at me with wide green eyes, she had paled and was trembling slightly, "what's happening, Nikolaï?" she asks, getting up, but a new jolt makes her stagger. I catch her before she falls and settle her back into her seat, buckling her seatbelt. "It'll be okay, don't move. We'll land in twenty minutes, and a committee will probably be waiting for us," I say, and she tenses up. "He's here, isn't he? He found me? Oh my god, Rafael and Sienna! Did he get them too?" she exclaims, trying to get up, but her seatbelt prevents her.

"Hey, look at me. I talked to Sasha a few hours ago while you were sleeping. They arrived safely, they're okay, don't worry," I reassure her, "and you'll be safe too, Selina. I won't let him get you, I swear on my honor," I say with a firm tone, determined to act on my words.