“You saw what I did. How can you still want anything to do with me?”
“Yes, I saw. And I don’t judge you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve seen it before. We all have the beast inside. All of us.”
“What do you mean you’ve seen it before?”
Piotr straightened his long neck and leaned back.
“Back in my hometown, in Poland, there were two serial killers in the area. Nobody knew at the time because the police were still connecting the dots. The killers were going around with a hammer and screwdriver and butchering anyone they saw. Children, women, homeless people, anyone who couldn’t fight back. One day Juva, this kid from our town, was playing with his friend in the woods and they both got killed. A man from our village was driving by and saw the killers through the trees. He stopped and went closer without them seeing him. He recognised them. It was Luka and Robert. They lived in our town. They were standing over the bodies and laughing. Instead of telling the police, the man went and told Marja, Juva’s older brother. When Marja saw the bodies, he lost it. Really lost it. It was the devil’s work. You couldn’t even recognise the boys’ faces. Marja found them, and he stabbed and beat them both the same way they did to Juva. Most people agreed that he did the right thing. But that look everyone gave you before, that’s how everyone in our town looked at Marja. That’s the look people give when they don’t understand. They can’t see how someone can go there. Everyone was shocked. But not me.”
“Why not you?” asked Frederich, engrossed by Piotr’s story.
“Because I was with Marja when he did it. We were childhood friends. He told me to stay home, but I went with him to look for Luka and Robert. I held the gun so they wouldn’t escape. Marja loved his little brother more than anything. Seeing the young boy die like that, it broke him. It was never supposed to happen, not like that. It was a horrible thing. Once Marja went over the edge, he was never coming back. I saw the devil in his eyes. He had no choice. Nobody chooses to cross over. And I know you didn’t choose it either.” Piotr studied Frederich’s face. “You’ve done it before, haven’t you?” he said.
Frederich looked up and locked eyes with Piotr, unable to breathe, unable to say a word.
“Whatever made you like this, it wasn’t your fault. I’m telling you, nobody chooses the devil. The devil chooses them. So stop blaming yourself. That bastard pointed a gun at you. He took you there. Every choice I’ve seen you make tells me you’re a good person, and I’m sorry you have to carry this. Just like I was sorry for Marja. But you have to accept that it is there.”
Accept? What did Piotr know about it? It was one thing to witness it. Having it inside you was something else entirely.
“You tried to stop me,” said Frederich. “Why did you help Marja kill those guys?”
Piotr gave an ugly, lopsided smile.
“Because the devil was in me too. The hate came like fire. I wanted Marja to kill them. Not hurt them, or scare them, or take them to the police, but destroy them. After, I was ashamed. Like you. I felt like a monster. I didn’t want to feel that kind of hate again.”
“Does what happened have anything to do with why you joined The League?”
Piotr nodded.
“The police came looking for us, and Marja gave himself up. I ran away. The League was my only chance to avoid being locked up.”
“Do you regret what you did?”
“No,” said Piotr with a cold voice. “We did what was necessary. I just regret that we had to do it.”
Frederich said nothing. He could only nod his acknowledgement of Piotr’s torment. Piotr looked away over the plain.
“I can’t get rid of it, can I?” said Frederich.
Piotr shook his head.
“I don’t think so.”
“So what do I do?”
Piotr turned to face Frederich.
“You go back and see what Scheffler wants, and you keep being yourself.”
Frederich nodded and placed a hand on Piotr’s shoulder.
“Thanks,” he said then leaned in and gave his friend a firm hug. He then pushed off and marched away through the trees toward the facility to look for Scheffler.
Frederich reentered the facility and found the training hall empty. A light was on in the mess hall with murmurs coming from inside. Scheffler appeared in the hallway in the distance. When Frederich noticed him, Scheffler turned around and walked back inside. Frederich followed.
He found Scheffler in his office, leaning against the front of his desk with his legs spread and his arms crossed.
“Door,” said Scheffler.
Frederich shut the door behind him and leaned on the other side of the desk next to Scheffler.
“That Kalakia, I swear,” said Scheffler, shaking his head and biting his lip. “He knew. He had you pinned from the start.”
Frederich waited. Where’s he going with this?
“You know,” continued Scheffler. “I went through some bad shit when I served. But I was never helpless. We did our homework and we took care of business. Planning. Precision. Preparation. Twenty-four seven. We were always a step ahead. I don’t know what’s happened to me. I’ve lost the edge. There was no way anyone would get the slip on me if it were a few years ago.”
“You served with the British military?” asked Frederich.
“SAS,” replied Scheffler. “Who dares wins, ey? Those bastards today got us at the perfect time, when we were the most exposed. They’d have cleaned us up if you hadn’t shown up.”
“If I wasn’t already out there, I would have been killed with everyone else.”
“That’s right. But destiny doesn’t give two shits about what-ifs. Who trained you, Abel?”
“My father, Kraas Abel. He was Spetsnaz.”
“Ah,” said Scheffler, lifting his head to the ceiling. “Now it begins to make sense.”
“Was your father military?” asked Frederich.
“No, my old man was
