The coded message was only five words long, but they might as well have been a bullet.
THEY TOOK LUKA.
Jake stared at the decoded text, and the noise of the Party Congress around him dissolved. The shouts, the clatter, the endless speeches—all gone. The world collapsed into silence and panic.
Luka.
Not a random name. Not a soldier lost in the fog of war.
Luka, the first man Jake had ever recruited in this new life. The quiet one who'd stood with him in the tannery, face grim as they'd planned their first purge. The man who had witnessed Danilov's turning. Who had seen Fikus die. Who knew that their "trusted agent" was a captured assassin working for both sides.
He didn't know some of the secrets.
He knew everything.
And now he was in the hands of the Okhrana.
Jake's mind, honed by months of paranoia and fear, kicked into overdrive.
Luka was brave, but he wasn't Kamo. He wasn't built for torture. Under the patient, methodical cruelty of Stolypin's interrogators, he would talk. It wasn't a question of if. Only when.
Days. Maybe hours.
And when he talked, he would tell the truth—every impossible word of it.
A truth so wild, so conspiratorial, that it would destroy Jake's empire from both sides.
To Stolypin, it would mean exposure. To Lenin's men, it would mean betrayal.
Jake pressed a hand to his temple. The situation wasn't just bad—it was terminal.
He couldn't save Luka.
He couldn't stop the interrogation.
So he had to do the only thing left: destroy the credibility of whatever Luka said before anyone could believe it.
He had to poison the truth.
He found Leonid Krasin in a pub near the Congress hall, deep in discussion about dynamite chemistry with another operative. Jake waited until the man left, then approached.
"Krasin," he said quietly, "we have a problem."
The older man's eyes narrowed. Jake's tone alone was enough.
"One of my key… financial operatives was captured during the retreat in Tbilisi."
Krasin straightened. "How much does he know?"
Jake's answer was immediate, a lie constructed mid-breath. "He knows the routes—the couriers we planned to use to move the funds. If the Okhrana breaks him, the money is compromised. We need to move it now. Pass it through the network to Berlin before they can act."
Krasin's calm expression tightened. He understood instantly: this wasn't ideology. This was logistics.
"I'll handle it," he said. "Thank you for acting quickly."
Jake nodded, letting just enough weariness show. "The funds are secure for now, but we can't take chances."
He'd done it. In a few sentences, he'd turned Krasin's focus entirely toward the money—away from the captured man who might blow everything apart. And in doing so, he'd bound Krasin even closer to his cause.
One fire contained.
The real one still burned.
Back in his small room, Jake sat at the edge of his bed, hands clasped, eyes fixed on the floorboards.
Stolypin.
Within days, the Prime Minister would receive two conflicting reports.
One from Tbilisi: Luka's interrogation, every ugly truth poured out under torture.
And one from "Danilov," Jake's own carefully managed puppet.
When those reports met, the contradiction would be total. Stolypin would see it instantly. He'd realize he'd been played.
And then he'd burn the empire down to find the man who'd made a fool of him.
Jake stood, pacing. His pulse hammered. He couldn't prevent Luka from talking—but he could redefine what Luka's words meant. He could make the truth sound like a lie.
It would take something monstrous.
Something cold.
He sat at his small table and pulled out his cipher book. His fingers hovered over the paper for a long moment before he began to write.
URGENT OPERATIONAL UPDATE. A CRISIS HAS DEVELOPED. MY LEADER, SOSO, HAS DISCOVERED A TRAITOR IN HIS INNER CIRCLE. A MAN NAMED LUKA.
He stopped for a moment, exhaling slowly.
He was killing Luka twice—once in reality, and once in reputation.
He kept writing.
EVIDENCE INDICATES LUKA HAS BEEN WORKING FOR THE MENSHEVIKS, FEEDING THEM INFORMATION AND SPREADING RUMORS AGAINST SOSO'S LEADERSHIP. AN INTERNAL PARTY TRIAL HAS BEEN ORDERED. THE SITUATION IS VOLATILE.
Then came the final, essential twist: making Danilov indispensable.
I HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED TO GUARD THE PRISONER UNTIL HIS EXECUTION. THIS WILL ALLOW ME TO GAIN SOSO'S FULL TRUST AND ACCESS TO HIS INNER CIRCLE. I WILL REPORT MORE SOON.
He put down the pen. The message was perfect.
When it reached Stolypin, the Prime Minister would read it first. Then, when the interrogation transcripts arrived—full of Luka's "wild" claims about double agents and secret plots—they would appear exactly as Jake wanted them to: the desperate fabrications of a dying traitor.
The truth would discredit itself.
He sealed the cipher and stared at the page for a long moment.
Luka's life was already over.
Now, Jake had taken his name too.
It was the most ruthless thing he had ever done—and the most necessary.
He leaned back in his chair, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the London street outside.
He had outmaneuvered Stolypin again.
But this time, it didn't feel like victory.
It felt like damnation.