Black Dawn - Page Three - Viktor Radovic
BLACK DAWN: Page Three
VICTOR RADOVIC: BLACK DAWN BASE OF OPERATIONS, LONDON.
The abandoned factory was vast, echoing, and heavy with damp. Viktor Radovic stood in the heart of the makeshift command centre, smoking in silence, the embers flaring briefly as he drew in a lungful of smoke. Overhead, a row of flickering industrial lights cast jittery shadows on the stained bulletin board holding a world map riddled with red markers, each one puncturing its surface like a wound.
Across from him, the Englishman in his tailored suit paced, restless and anxious. Viktor had little patience for men like him, confident when in control, unravelling when it slipped through their fingers. A man of wealth and privilege, but his hands had never been truly dirty. Viktor knew his kind well. Useful, for a time. Disposable, in the end.
“Everything is in place?” the Englishman asked, his voice sharp with aristocratic unease.
Viktor’s steel-grey eyes pinned him in place. He let the silence stretch, watching the man squirm beneath it. “Everything,” Viktor said finally, “is exactly where it needs to be.”
The Englishman stopped pacing. His face was pale, his carefully composed features betraying flickers of doubt. Viktor could almost hear the frantic calculations in his head, attempts to reconcile the plan with the fear tightening his throat.
“You sound so sure,” the Englishman muttered. “But Rand... his capture wasn’t part of this. Why are you so fixated on him? He’s just another MI6 operative, isn’t he?”
Viktor’s expression darkened. “Rand is not just another operative,” he said. “He is the key.”
“The key?” The Englishman frowned. “What does that even mean? How can one man…?”
“Stop.” Viktor took a step forwards. Though the Englishman was taller, he still shrank beneath the weight of Viktor’s gaze. “It is not your role to ask why. It is your role to do what is required. Nothing more.”
“Yes, of course,” the Englishman said quickly, forcing a smile that failed to reach his eyes. “I didn’t mean to…. It’s just.... A bit unnerving, that was all. The way you fixate on him. What if he doesn’t cooperate?”
Viktor exhaled a slow stream of smoke between them, watching the Englishman flinch. “Rand doesn’t need to cooperate,” he said, his lips curling at the edge. “I only need him here. The rest is already decided.”
The Englishman nodded, but unease clung to him like a second skin. He turned to the map, staring at the sea of red markers, then back at Viktor. “And what if something unexpected happens?” he murmured.
Viktor’s expression was void of humour. He had little patience left for the Englishman, and under different circumstances, he might have disposed of him already. But not yet. He still had his part to play. He ground out his cigarette beneath his boot.
“Unexpected?” His voice was almost amused. “No, my friend. Every contingency has been accounted for. The Black Dawn does not rely on hope. We thrive on precision.” He let the words settle, then added, “And everyone is predictable.” His gaze flicked over the Englishman, his next words hitting their mark. “And expendable.”
The Englishman stiffened. “Viktor, no…. I’m with you. I’ve come too far to back out now.”
Viktor’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. The Englishman winced. “Good,” Viktor murmured. “Then focus on your part and leave the rest to me. The dawn is coming. And it will be glorious.”
A low rumble of an engine echoed through the factory. Viktor released the Englishman and turned towards the sound. The massive warehouse doors were groaning open revealing the piercing headlights of a van. “And here he is. The key to Phase Two.”
The Englishman took a wary step back, his gaze darting between the van and Viktor, as if questioning whether he truly belonged in this moment. Viktor didn’t acknowledge his doubt. His attention was already on what came next.
Thomas Rand was about to learn that the dawn was inevitable. And no one, not even him, could outrun it.
Next scene coming 19th November.
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