Nikita

"61.5240° N, 105.3188° E," Nikita read out to him self.

The coordinates had been integrated into his car system by Rael. He had requested that Samantha was being held in because he needed to deal with the woman himself.

He was going to get answers from her, no matter how long it took, because only he would want to go back home and deal with Natalya. 

"General coordinates?" Nikita asked Rael as he headed into the outskirts of Todorov. He was going to get answers.

"Yes, sir. The exact coordinates will activate once you're out of Todorov. I calibrated the system to ensure no one was tracking you," Rael said, her voice calm and quiet. She knew there would be people after him, and while Nikita could protect himself, they still were worried about him.

Nikita was a good man with a harsh fate, but that didn't even scare him anymore. He had already come to terms with that, and nothing that happened was going to scare him anymore. 

"Alright. Make sure everything is ready when I come there. Track the source of the killswitch and send it to me. Also, inform Kyle that the Natalya operation is on hold, though I will still need the rough draft I requested. Is that clear?" Nikita said to Rael, who gave him a faint yes.

They knew there was no time to play, especially now that Nikita was out of the hospital. They knew he would utilize everything they had, every opportunity to fix that shit, and there wouldn't be any hesitation. 

It was already two o'clock when Nikita reached the black site, right about the time when the press conference was scheduled.

As much as he wanted to rush into the building and ask Samantha all the questions he had, he needed to watch the press conference. He needed to see whether he had made the right decision trusting his friends to take care of everything for him.

Nikita had been skeptical about it all at first, but there was no reason to anymore. He needed help, and they had agreed, even though he had ambushed them, so the least he could do was trust that they could do whatever he had ȧssigned them.

He had made it evident that he was in no way superior to them. He had made them understand that their bond would always be the same because they were there and tentatively about to work for him.

Of course, he expected monthly reports, but still, it was something they could efficiently work around. After all, his friends were loyalists who believed in more good than bad. They were crazy yet, but that didn't mean they had no idea what the society expected of them. 

"We'll cut the normal programming short because there is a press conference ongoing in Todorov hospital. We are being informed that it is about the Pavlenko group. Stay tuned, and the normal programming will resume after this," one of the new reporters said.

What could go wrong, right?

Nikita could see the press-ready, they were all hungry for information, and that wasn't anything new. They would always want more, need more, and they would always have the urge to be the first to break the news.

Qiao Xi and Carrie had not come out yet, and Nikita couldn't help but think that they were still being morally supportive of each other. He wanted to take it all back and get the probable pressure off their backs, but he knew that the force wouldn't do him any good.

He wasn't the most stable person right now, and offering himself as a sacrifice in the name of friendship and family would make it weird.

"Oh well, it seems they are here," the reporter said, making Nikita focus on the screen and what he saw; boy, they looked absolutely different.

Qiao wasn't in his military uniform. He didn't want the public to judge him and start questioning his ability as a soldier to make things right and still save people. He hadn't wanted people to think he would be a biased officer of the law.

Sure, he was still a soldier; none of that had changed, not even for Carrie. However, the least they could do was respect the occasion and their military uniform right here and now, and it would save the form so many things.

Maybe when the world had already accepted that they were the heads of Pavlenko and that they were the reigning power, they could get in their uniforms and work their ȧsses off. 

Qiao was in a dark blue suit, one that made him look like he had come out of the cover of a magazine. His jaw was sharp, and his hair was neatly laid back. It was almost impossible to tell that he had agreed to do this in exchange for his best friend trying to get better.

Oh, the sacrifices they had made. On the other hand, Carrie was in a white suit that made her ooze power. The suit didn't even hide her fierce nature; and instead, it magnified it all.

She looked like the real boss, and Qiao was her ȧssistant, but that didn't matter. Carrie always hated formal wear, and she always despised suits; hell, their group of friends all despised suits.

Nikita and Ren always preferred to be in their medical attire over their suits, any time of the day, while Carrie and Qiao preferred their military clothes over anything official.

To them, official wear meant the clothes they had been worn for their careers, and nothing would ever change that; however, as Nikita watched them, the court helped but smiled. They had actually made adjustments to fit the occasion.

They had made the sacrifices for him.

They hadn't lied to him.

His friends had stayed loyal to him even when they risked being ridiculed, and he couldn't have been any more thankful for it all. The way they walked towards the podium was all the ȧssurance Nikita needed to know that they would nail this.

They would be excellent at this, too, an additional aspect of their long list of abilities. He has powerful friends, and he loved it.. All he had to do now was listen to them and know whether he had made the best choice or not.