Sennoy stormed to the balcony door and flung it open, letting the chilly October air flood the room. The wind stirred the dusty gray tulle, making him sneeze as he swatted the fabric away from his face.

"Ugh, how do you live in this dump? Good thing you put away the Christmas lights, or my eyes would be burning," he said, lighting a cigarette and lying back down.

Daniel pulled the blanket up and wrapped himself in it, not intending to reply. He still shuddered with disgust from having to kiss, spread his legs, and get off from the rough treatment. His body felt weak, and he wanted to sleep, but he had to hold on until Sennoy left. Make the bed, wash until he felt clean again, then relax.

"Why are you all puffed up like a scared mouse?" Sennoy looked around for a place to dump the ashes and flicked them into a glass of water. "Dan, don't just sit there in silence. I don't like dragging words out of you."

"Don't smoke in here. I have to sleep here later," Daniel replied dryly. "And anyway, don't you have to..."

"Not yet," Sennoy interrupted, taking one last puff before stubbing out the cigarette in the glass. "I liked it tonight. Better than last time. You're still a bit stiff," he kissed Daniel's neck, sniffed, and chuckled. "You smell like milk. Always thought that. A milk boy in both scent and color. You never tan, do you? Let's go again."

Daniel looked into his darkening eyes, hesitated a moment, then nodded and rolled over onto his stomach.

"From behind now. Just don't pile into me. It hurts."

"I'll try," Sennoy said, kissing his shoulder. "You're so tender, Dan," he reached for Daniel's lips but was met with a face buried in the pillow. "What's wrong?"

"You stink," Daniel mumbled into the pillow.

"You're cranky," Sennoy replied, pulling back the blanket, lying on top of him, and kissing his shoulders. "I'll smoke afterward if kissing me bothers you. You never complained before."

"Never had to kiss you before," Daniel lifted his hips, following the movement of his hands, and hissed as the cold wind hit his damp skin. "Fuck, it's cold."

"Oh, fuck!" Sennoy jumped out of bed, took two strides to the balcony door, and slammed it shut. "Cold, nasty, painful. And I thought it'd be easier with a man. Though you..." He stopped.

Daniel instantly raised his head like an angry viper, his survival instincts flaring.

"Finish what you started. I'm not a man, huh? Just a rooster?"

"Calm down, Dan. You're a man. I don't think you're a rooster. I kiss you on the lips, touch you everywhere, even put my fingers inside your ass," Sennoy easily rolled him over and pinned him down, fingers interlocked. "You're just different. You don't shy away from things most men would. Like, you show fear openly. You seduce with a flick of your eyelashes, like a girl. Quiet, I didn't mean anything bad."

"Bullshit, let me go! I don't want to do this anymore. Get out, I'm sick of it!" Daniel twisted beneath him, trying to escape, but Sennoy was rock hard and getting more excited. A hard cock rubbed against his groin, the man's scent heightened, and his chest muscles outlined sharply. His gray eyes squinted.

Sennoy shifted, positioning himself, and adjusted his cock against Daniel's opening.

"Get off, I said!" Daniel yelled, struggling. Sennoy, panting, thrust all the way in and groaned, locking their hands again. He sucked on Daniel's neck, breathing heavily and thrusting into the creaking couch. Daniel bit the cushion, trying to escape into a meditative state. He couldn't get in the right mood, had to endure the powerful thrusts hitting his prostate, igniting unwanted arousal.

Sennoy gave a hoarse shout, took a breath, and moved downward with a sudden jerk. Before Daniel realized it, his cock was enveloped in hot, wet captivity. Sennoy sucked unskillfully but passionately, changing speeds and twisting the shaft. Desire seized Daniel, wanting to cum quickly. The sight of Sennoy's blond head bobbing was enough to make him cum. Daniel spread his legs wider, thrusting deeper. Sennoy coughed but accepted, only holding a hand at the base to avoid choking.

Daniel came with a short groan. Sennoy spat the cum onto the floor and collapsed beside him, asking hoarsely.

"Well, believe now that I don't see you as a rooster?"

"I do," Daniel smiled weakly, letting Sennoy lay him on his chest. Every muscle melted, irritation subsiding, replaced by a sense of victory. Daniel glanced at the nightstand, at the dumb teddy bear with round plastic eyes, and the decorative fluorescent grapes on the curtain. He hid a smile. "What happens to Matvey tomorrow?"

"Matvey will enjoy a good steam in his banya," Sennoy was still breathing heavily, as if he had just climaxed himself. "He'll drink some kvass with procainamide, and the heat will do the rest. Matvey loves to sweat. Why deny him that before he dies?"

"And how did you get the staff to do it? Alexander told me his father only employs long-trusted staff."

"I found the masseuse's weak spot. I told her how her son, who also worked for Matvey, died," Sennoy reached for his cigarettes, clicked his lighter, and exhaled a foul-smelling plume. "A mother's heart is ruthless to her child's enemies."

"Did Matvey really order his death?" Daniel felt a chill, listening to the steadying beat of Sennoy's heart, horrified by the realization that another heart would stop forever tomorrow.

"Nah, but he did send him out in the pouring rain to deliver a gift. Her son was a damn fool for drinking and driving. Now she thinks Matvey had muscle relaxants slipped in his beer to punish him for some petty theft, making him lose control of the car. She'll spike Matvey's kvass with procainamide and probably go to jail with a smile. Lonely old woman with a rough life - those are the ones who make the most desperate killers."

"You're a monster," Daniel rolled onto the bed, covering himself with a blanket, shivering with nervous chills, his teeth chattering. "Don't you feel any pity for her?"

"And don't you feel any pity for yourself? He ordered you to be downgraded," Sennoy propped his cheek on his fist, blowing smoke in Daniel's direction. "You could've been killed or crippled for life. Don't forget, Matvey's got blood on his hands, lots of it. So cut the sentimentality. Listen up. Three days ago, there was an explosion in the Yakut town of Chirkutay. You hear about it?"

Daniel nodded absently, starting to understand where Sennoy was going.

"So, the monotown depended on a single oil extraction enterprise owned by Matvey. I rigged an explosion in the boiler room of his company that heated the town. Bam! The whole place is without heat in minus twenty degrees. Federal authorities are all over it now. They'll soon replace the owner, especially since there are already criminal cases against him. Then they'll nationalize his business and auction it off. I'll get my creation back for less than I sold it for. No competitor will dare challenge me; I've got everything lined up. Matvey's already overwhelmed with court cases. He's an old man, stressed out, and when he heads to the banya as usual, his heart will give out. It'll look natural. And no trail will lead back to me. That masseuse thinks Kozlov's men contacted her."

"Alexander won't believe it," Daniel replied dully. "My God, you left a whole town without heat in freezing weather. There are children, old people..."

"You always focus on the wrong things," Sennoy grumbled. "After tomorrow, I'll move around the city more cautiously. I won't be coming here again. So, pack your stuff; you're moving in with me."

"I'll move when it happens," Daniel said firmly, getting up. "My roommate will be back soon, you need to go."

"Danila Ivanov, twenty-four years old, born May 5, 1995, registered in Olkhovka, Lermontov Street 28-33," Sennoy recited mockingly to his stiffened back. "Don't try anything, Danila. I know your fake identity and can find you if you run."

"H-how?" Daniel stammered, collapsing back onto the bed.

"We put some pressure on your roommate," Sennoy rustled his clothes. "Kids these days believe anything. They told him they were undercover, looking for a dangerous criminal who looked just like you. He immediately gave us a copy of your passport."

Daniel gritted his teeth. No wonder Timur had been wary recently. Damn, what a mess. Good thing he rented the room through Cian and not through Baba Songolik's contacts, or Timur would've led Sennoy's hounds to her. Sennoy laughed, circling the couch.

"Don't worry, they later told him you weren't the guy they were after. Why the pissed-off look, Dan? You know I'm careful. So, come to the address when you read the news about Matvey," Sennoy patted his cheek and smiled. Daniel stubbornly shook his head. "You're so damn handsome when you're angry. Quit playing the hero. This isn't a game; it's a real war."

Daniel breathed freely only when the door slammed shut. He rubbed his face and stood up. Gathering his torn clothes - Sennoy had gotten rough again - he opened the balcony door, letting out the cigarette smoke and the pungent smell of sex. He stripped the bed and headed to the bathroom. As the washing machine rattled, he scrubbed away the sweat, saliva, and semen, thinking intently. The game was at its climax; the next move had to be precise, striking both players at the right moment. The hot water turned cold, then scalding. Fuck Sennoy - he deserved what he'll get. But Alexander... He felt pity for Alexander despite the bitterness - Alexander had dug too deep into him, roots spreading through his entire being. He imagined Alexander, face contorted in silent screams, holding his father's lifeless body. Daniel nearly stumbled, hitting the switch. Ice-cold water shocked him back to focus, clearing his mind.

Packing was torture. Daniel methodically unhooked the tiny cameras, grinning crookedly as he looked at them. Thanks to Alexander's watch, sold through a long chain, Baba Songolik's bank account still had a decent amount, despite the spending. Sennoy had even added more during his first visit. Both lovers had unknowingly financed their own downfall.

In the bathroom, Daniel piled up the cosmetics he'd bought and meticulously inspected his skin. He had shaved before meeting Sennoy but might have missed a hair or two. He picked up the heavy glass bottle of foundation and paused, biting his lips. His thoughts clicked into place, wondering if there were any clues or if he had inadvertently set up Baba Songolik. He nodded to himself, exhaling in relief. He had taken a long and tedious bus journey to Moscow, never showing the passport issued in her grandson's name, hiding his face under a baseball cap. The model of Alexander's watch was typical - not mass-market, but not limited edition either, making it hard to trace. It had been sold through a string of hands to a shady guy running a semi-criminal business. He wasn't likely to get caught, and even if he did, he had nothing to tell. Daniel paid cash in stores and rented a room through Cian using Danila Ivanov's fake passport. Let Sennoy look for him.

Daniel unscrewed the cap, poured a dense, pleasant-smelling mass onto his fingers, and began to rub it into his skin, trying to remember the master class from the pretty consultant. She'd been excited to learn Daniel was to appear as a woman in a corporate theater club and spent an hour teaching him how to transform himself. He applied the foundation, brushed his cheekbones pink, mixed blush with foundation, and beat it into his eyelids with his fingers. Holding his breath, he drew lines along his upper lashes and sighed dejectedly as he picked up the mascara, which refused to cooperate. After an hour of huffing and puffing and a couple of makeup updates, Daniel finally threw the mascara into his makeup bag and pulled a light blonde wig with fashionable curls over his head. He looked into the mirror.

A beautiful blonde with long eyelashes looked back at him, the kind that makes people turn and dream of the impossible. A little androgynous, but androgyny was in vogue. Perfect. Daniel pulled off the sheet he'd wrapped around himself to keep his clothes free of makeup and spun around, checking himself from every angle. His shoulders were a bit broad for a girl, but with his hair down, the width was less noticeable. The huge bust, which had cost a lot, also served as a distraction. His oversized feet were hidden beneath flowing palazzo pants - thanks to the cosmetics consultant's suggestion. The blonde he'd created looked natural. It was safe to go.

Daniel stepped out of the door, concentrating on his gait: not spreading his legs like a man, but walking more evenly like a woman. He adjusted the strap of a large, shapeless bag, took a fleeting look around in the evening twilight, and swallowed a lump in his throat. In a car not far from the entrance, a familiar stout man and a colleague stared at him, nervous shivers running through his skin.

Agent 007 sighed, calming himself, and focused on his steps: smooth, confident, feminine. A beautiful girl hurrying to a late date, a little nervous, which was natural. In the oily black archway, Daniel gasped for breath, slapped his thigh to regain his senses, and sped up. The main thing was to reach the subway, then jump from station to station, get off the street at a place of his choice, and catch a bus. If he was followed, this route would make it clear.

Daniel entered the Kaluzhskaya apartment at eleven, hoping the roommates were asleep. But no such luck: Zhargal, carrying a mug of tea, nearly dropped it, staring at him.

"Huh?"

"Part-time theater work," Daniel explained briefly, pulling off his wig. "Don't mind it."

"Fucking hell!" Zhargal replied with feeling, sipping his hot tea loudly. "At first, I thought God had heard my prayers and sent me a girl right to my door. Oh, my gosh! I'd never have recognized you: a girl is a girl, and a very beautiful one at that."

"That's good," Daniel replied, kicking off his too-tight shoes with relief. "I'm glad I wasn't recognized. Is Edik asleep?"

"Yeah, for a while now," Zhargal continued to look at him with an amused mix of admiration and disgust. "Holy shit, can I get a makeover like that too?"

"If you want," Daniel took off his wig and went to the bathroom. "But I.T. guys are paid well enough; why should I work in the theater?"

Maxim answered the phone with a sleepy, irritated voice.

"Listen, Daniel. Just because I'm helping you doesn't mean you can pull me at any time of day or night. I have to get up very early!"

"I'm sorry, Maxim. I won't call so late again. Did you find out who at my consulate is working for Alexander?" Daniel held his breath.

"Yeah, I did. She's just a secretary, Natalia Danilova, if I remember correctly. Do you... do you want to take her out?" Maxim paused, clearly uncertain.

"Not at all, Maxim," Daniel chuckled unhappily. "You've gotten to know me well enough by now. I'm not capable of such measures. I just wanted to know who to watch out for. A secretary doesn't make decisions, and I don't care if she tries to burn me."

"Do you realize, though, that Alexander will rush to you even if his father is dying?" Maxim asked uncertainly.

"I understand. But who knows, maybe Alexander will be too busy," Daniel changed the subject instantly. "He has a lot on his plate with his business. You said yourself he's selling everything in a hurry. And don't underestimate his love for his father. Thank you for the information; it reassured me. It's good to know he doesn't influence the important people at my consulate."

"You're welcome. But if anything happens, I won't be able to help you, okay?"

"Of course. Goodbye, Maxim."

In his room - clean, cozy, and furnished with Ikea furniture - Daniel, still warm from his shower, hastily chewed a sandwich, drank some water, and collapsed into bed. His body gradually released its tension, feeling a heavy, cotton-like weight. Everything had gone according to plan, and now all he had to do was be patient and watch the news. A full twenty-four hours and... an invisible orchestra would play Daniel King's aria. Let's not let anything go wrong.