Of course she did. Of course my fierce, stubborn wife had fought.
"Stay alive," I told him. "Help is coming. You stay alive, you hear me?"
He didn't respond. His eyes had closed, his breathing gone shallow. I pressed my fingers to his throat—pulse still there, weak but present. He needed a hospital. Needed surgery, blood, things I couldn't give him.
I left him and kept searching.
***
I found Yelena in the storage room.
She was crumpled on the floor amid scattered linens, her face swollen, her lip split, blood matting her gray hair. When she heard my footsteps, she flinched—then saw who it was and let out a sob.
"Mr. Chernov. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"
"Where did they take her?" I knelt beside her, gentler than I'd been with Kirill. She was a civilian, innocent, had stayed loyal when she could have run. "Yelena, I need to know everything."
"I hid her." Tears streaked through the blood on her face. "The hidden panel, like you showed me. But they were searching everywhere. I tried to lead them away, make them think she'd gone the other direction. They caught me. Beat me." Her voice cracked. "I didn't tell them where she was. I swear I didn't. But they found her anyway. They found her, and they took her, and I couldn't stop them—"
"You did everything you could." I gripped her shoulder, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You kept her alive long enough tobe taken. If they'd found her earlier, she might be dead. You gave me a chance to get her back."
"They said—the one with the scar—he said Pankratov wanted to meet her." Yelena shuddered. "They put her on a boat. I saw from the window before I... before I passed out. Southeast. Fast boat, military style."
Southeast. The same direction Kirill had said.
I was already calculating distances, possibilities, destinations. Pankratov had properties scattered across the Aegean—safe houses, warehouses, bolt-holes for when things went wrong. But if he wanted to interrogate her, hold her, use her against me—he'd need somewhere secure. Somewhere isolated.
I called Semyon.
"Tell me you have something."
"Working on it." Keys clacked in the background. "Armenian movements in the Aegean over the past forty-eight hours—I've got boat rentals, helicopter charters, supply purchases. There's a pattern forming."
"Where?"
"Small island about sixty kilometers southeast of your position. Officially abandoned—old shipping facility from the Cold War era. But satellite imagery shows recent activity. Boats, vehicles, generator power."
Sixty kilometers. An hour by fast boat. If they'd taken her there—
"That's where they have her."
"Vasily, we don't have confirmation—"
"I don't need confirmation. I need men." I was already moving back through the house, toward the helicopter. "Everyone you can reach within two hours. Armed, equipped, ready to breach a fortified position. I don't care what it costs. I don't care who you have to call. Get them there."
"I've already started. Greek special forces owe us favors. Private contractors out of Athens. I can have thirty men ready to move within ninety minutes."
"Make it sixty."
"Vasily—"
"She's pregnant, Semyon." The words tore out of me, raw with fear. "She's carrying my child. If anything happens to her—if anything happens to either of them—"
I couldn't finish. Couldn't let myself imagine the possibilities.
"Sixty minutes," Semyon said quietly. "I'll make it happen."
***
