Read Online Eternal Empire by Alec Nevala-Lee - Free Book Online

mesh running from floor to ceiling and guards stationed at each end. In one corner, a group of West Indians were playing dominoes, shouting with excitement at every move, while other prisoners watched television or stood in a line for the pay phones on the far wall.
    Sasha continued through a separate gate, which led to the space reserved for enhanced prisoners. A few cleaners were playing cards, while others were shooting pool. And in the corner was seated a tight circle of inmates, five in all, who turned to look as Ilya approached.
    Ilya returned the scrutiny. Most of the men seemed to range from twenty to their early thirties. Some, like Sasha, had the usual meaningless tattoos, while the youngest had no marks at all.
    Seated at the center was Grigory Vasylenko. The old man was smaller than Ilya remembered, over seventy by now, his hair and mustache white, along with a fine layer of scruff on his cheeks and chin. He was wearing his jacket indoors, his hands lost in their sleeves, and yet a core of hardness remained, along with a look in his eyes that made Ilya feel as if he were back in Vladimir.
    Vasylenko regarded Ilya for a moment, then spoke to his men. “Leave us alone.”
    At once, the others stood, their eyes fixed on the newcomer, and departed one by one. Vasylenko gestured for Ilya to sit down, then motioned for the book in the younger man’s hands, which Ilya handed over. “Still lost in the myths of the Jews, I see. It must have been hard to survive on your own for so long.”
    â€œIt’s what I was taught to do,” Ilya said. “I was once told that a man can reach his full potential only when he has been left with nothing.”
    Vasylenko smiled slightly, evidently recognizing his own words. Looking across at the
vor
, Ilya marveled at how easy it would be. Seated a few feet away from him was the man who, long ago, had ordered the death of Ilya’s parents, transforming him into a killer who was unknowingly serving the very forces he hated. More than enough reason, Ilya thought, to end it all now.
    But there was another reason to hold back. The death of one man was nothing compared to the survival of the system as a whole. And the possibility still remained, as remote as it might seem, that there was a larger picture elsewhere that he would be allowed to see. “I hear your leave to appeal was granted.”
    Vasylenko gave an absent wave. “Yes. I do not have much hope of success, but for now, I will go along with the charade. If nothing else, it will be good to have a change of scene.”
    Looking into the old man’s eyes, Ilya saw the true meaning there. “When will it be?”
    â€œOne week from now,” Vasylenko said calmly. “But I expect that Dancy has told you this already. He claims that you have been quite helpful in giving him insight into the situation on the ground. What have you said?”
    â€œI told him that you’re the last of your kind,” Ilya replied, knowing that Dancy would have passed along most of this information. “Once, in prison, the thief was king. But I’ve seen the men you control here. Outside, there are those who still honor you and what you represent. But not in this place.”
    In response, the
vor
only grunted. “And what do you expect for such insights?”
    â€œNothing,” Ilya said. “But what I expect and what I need are two different things.”
    Vasylenko laughed softly, shaking his head. “I asked you here, Ilyuha, because I wanted to look in your eyes. Dancy thinks you can be trusted. But I know you too well. I’m aware that a man like you, who has so often put revenge above his own best interests, might have other reasons to get close to this lawyer, when in fact you haven’t changed at all.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Ilya said. “There are things no man should be willing to forgive. But a man might be willing to forget the past, at least for a