"Yeah," another one agrees. "I'm tired of talking." The short one reaches for Tessa's arm. "Come here, sweetheart." Tessa yanks her arm away. "Don't touch me!" He grabs her wrist anyway and pulls her toward him. She twists her body and punches him in the face with a loud crack. He stumbles back as blood pours from his nose. "You bitch!" Chaos breaks out instantly.
The one behind me grabs my hair and yanks my head back hard until a scream tears from my throat. Another one grabs Tessa from behind and wraps his arms around her to pin her down. She kicks and fights as she throws her body weight around, but he throws her against the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of her. I try to get to her, but the one holding my hair yanks harder to force me back.
"Stop fighting," he hisses in my ear with his wet breath against my neck making me sick. "It will be easier if you just relax." I bite his hand as hard as I can until I taste blood. He screams and lets go. I try to crawl toward Tessa, but two other men grab me before I can take a step, pinning my arms to my sides with strength I can't fight against.
Tessa is still fighting like a wild animal as she punches one man in the throat and kicks another, but there are too many of them. The short man grabs her wrist and twists it behind her back until she cries out in pain. "Tessa!" I sob.
One of them slaps me across the face to send a burst of hot pain through my head, and I hit the ground hard and taste blood in my mouth. Tessa kicks backward to catch one of them between the legs. He howls and lets go, but another one punches her in the ribs. She crumples to the floor and gasps for air. They shove her down. One of them plants a heavy boot on her back and presses down hard so she can't move.
She claws at the ground while trying to get up, but he presses harder. She screams. Another one grabs me by the throat and slams me against the table leg. I can't breathe. Black spots dance in my vision. One of them reaches for my skirt with hands that are rough and eager.
I kick him in the face as hard as I can. He staggers back while cursing. But another one takes his place right away. He starts unbuckling his belt. The sound of the metal opening cuts through the room like a gunshot. "No!" I scream with tears blurring my vision. "No, please!"
Tessa is sobbing and gasping for air under that boot, but she is still trying to fight. The one standing over her starts unbuttoning his pants. "Stop!" Tessa screams.
"Get off me!" The one holding me down starts pulling at my clothes. I fight against him while crying and begging, but he is too strong.
I realize with horror that no one is coming to save us. I kick blindly and hit a face, but his weight crushes the air from my lungs as he forces my legs apart. "Please," I sob with my voice shaking. "Please don't." He doesn't stop.
And then, the world explodes.
A huge BANG fills the air, my eyes go blurry as more gunshots ring out. Crack. Crack. Crack. They are followed by the heavy sounds of bodies hitting the floor. The weight on top of me is gone instantly and is replaced by the smell of smoke and blood.
Gentle hands are suddenly on me and lift me from the cold floor, but my mind is too messed up to know who it is. I can't keep my eyes open as the room spins around me, and the darkness finally takes over.
Somewhere far away I hear a voice that sounds broken or screaming or maybe crying, but the sound fades away as I pass out.
Chapter 23
ROMAN
Andrei calls me less than an hour after we leave the interrogation room, his voice clipping with an urgency that sets my teeth on edge.
"We just got the report on the redhead," he says. "Come take a look."
He does not sound rushed, but I can tell something is off, so I head straight for the study.
By the time I step inside, Andrei already has the folder spread open on the mahogany desk. It is thick with documents including photos, old ID scans, and birth records. Kirill is standing beside him with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting with an unreadable expression. Andrei barely looks up at us and simply points a finger at the paper.
"We have all the basics," he says. "Name, birthdate, and immigration record. She has only been in Russia for a year. There are no listed siblings and no father, and her mother died recently, just two years back."
I flip through the pages, scanning the details of a life that seems painfully ordinary. She is a freelance attorney who graduated at the top of her class, possessing a completely clean record and a history of quiet, unassuming living. It is boring and standard.
Then Andrei pauses at the photo of her mother, and his brow furrows deep in concentration.
"This is what’s strange," he mutters while squinting at the grainy ID photo. "I know this face. She used to work here yearsago. I am sure of it." He still has not looked at the name on the file.
Kirill leans over, looking intrigued. "Who is she?"
"I don't know," Andrei says as he flips back to the name on the file. "Elizaveta Antonova. Does that ring a bell?"
I shake my head. "No. Should it?"
Before Andrei can answer, the heavy oak door swings open behind us, and the guards posted outside step aside quickly with their heads bowed. "Sir," one of them announces. "Your father is here." Kirill and I both turn in surprise. "He is what?"
Radimir Miroslav walks into the room with his cane tapping rhythmically against the floor. His face is stern and you can see from his frown lines he lived a hard life. "What information do you have on the girl?" he asks immediately, bypassing all pleasantries.
Andrei straightens his spine and hands over the folder without a word. "Here is everything we could find, sir."
