Nikolai purses his lips. “Don’t project your own guilt back at me, brother. I’m just your muscle.”
He’s right—I am projecting. With a grimace, I open the trapdoor and descend. My footsteps echo against the cement walls as we go lower, the temperature chilling faster and faster with every step.
Alan is lying on the thin mattress against the wall when I appear. He scampers upright when he sees us. “Are you letting me go?”
My snort comes out through the nose. “You’re either stupid or delusional if you thought that would ever happen.”
He deflates instantly, leaning against the wall. “What then?”
“I’m not letting you go unless you earn your freedom.”
“I don’t have any more information, I swear. I told you—”
I hold up a hand and he shuts up instantly. “All you have to do is play along.”
“Play along?” Alan repeats. “I don’t understand.”
I roll my eyes and turn my back on him so that I can talk to my brother. “Are the men on standby?”
“I just got a call from Stepan. They’re ready. I’ve got everything set up upstairs in the shed. Now, all we need is to keep him talking long enough.” Nikolai’s gaze veers past me towards our captive. “You really think he’s up for the job?”
“He’ll find a way.”
The skepticism in Nikolai’s eyes is far from subtle. “I’ll be upstairs.”
“How long do you need?” I ask as he makes his way to the stairs.
“Not long. Thirty seconds should do it. But the longer you keep him on the line, the better.”
“Got it,” I say with a nod as I wave him away. Then I turn to Alan where he’s cowering against the far wall of the cell. “Now—let’s talk.”
Alan’s lips have gone an unappealing shade of gray. He looks barely human, with those sunken-in cheeks and milky-white irises.
I fling a bag at him. He catches it out of mid-air and eyes it cautiously until he catches the scent. Then, realizing what it is, he tears into it like a wild animal, stuffing the burger down his throat in huge chunks.
He finishes the food in four bites and then downs the bottle of water I roll toward him. After he’s done, he starts licking the brown paper the burger was wrapped in. “You got another one?” he asks between slurps.
“I might. Would you like that?”
“Yes!” he cries out, stumbling forward and dropping the burger wrapping. “Tell me. I’ll do anything.”
“Like I said, all you have to do is play along.” I pull out his phone. “I’m going to send a text message to your boss.”
“He’s not my—”
He stops short when he catches the expression on my face. I’m confident he won’t interrupt me again. “I’m going to send a text message to your boss, and then I can guarantee he’s going to call right afterwards. You’re going to pick up and have a conversation with him. Keep him on the phone as long as possible. Be believable. He can’t know that you’re here with me.”
Despite the cold room, Alan’s forehead is suddenly tainted with beads of sickly sweat. “I… O-okay. I can do that.”
I take a step forward. “Let me be very clear: if you give anything away, whether by accident or intention, you’re a dead man.”
Alan nods. “I understand.”
“Good.” I open his phone and pull up the text message thread. I take a deep breath, then press send on the fake messages that Nikolai and I crafted.
ALAN: the boy got out. we’re combing the area but it looks like he’s long gone.
ALAN: call me back ASAP and lemme know what you want me to do
I can’t tear my eyes away from the phone once the messages have gone through. I’m guessing that Sobakin has his phone on him at all times, so it shouldn’t—
READ: 11:47 A.M.
Instantly, my whole world coalesces down to one word. Call. Call. Call, you motherfucker. I can hear Alan's uneasy rustling next to me. My breath plumes in the chill air in clouds of white. Call. Call. Call, you—
The phone starts to vibrate.
“You’re up,” I tell Alan. “I’m putting you on speakerphone. Make sure you play your part.”
He nods so hard that the sweat flies off his forehead. Scowling with disgust, I hit Accept.
“How the fuck did you lose the boy?” It’s definitely Sobakin on the line. His deep voice is unmistakable. “He’s a mental case.”
My hand tightens around the phone. Even Alan looks at me with wide eyes and takes a step back as though he’s worried I’m gonna blow up and he’ll be caught in the line of fire.
“I dunno, boss. Some of my men… they’re idiots.”
“All your men are idiots,” he growls. “It doesn’t matter. I got what I wanted. The boy doesn’t matter anymore.”
“B-but… he might go back to—”
“Let him,” Sobakin snarls with a dark laugh. “By the time he gets to his brother, it’ll be too late.”
He hangs up a second later and I feel my blood boil with fury. What the hell did that mean? It’ll be too late. Too late for what? Too late for whom?
“I-I did what you asked,” Alan whines shrilly. “I played my part. W-will you let me go now?”
My eyes connect with his. He shrinks back. Part of him must know what’s coming, even if some little shred is still holding out hope that he’ll survive this ordeal.
But it doesn’t take long to dispel him of that notion. I lunge forward and grab him. I beat the shit out of him until my fists ache from the effort. He screams and begs for mercy the whole time. But until my knuckles are coated in blood and he’s well and truly unconscious, I don’t stop.
It doesn’t seem to matter. Beating this useless mudak to a pulp gives me no relief, no satisfaction. It doesn’t save anyone. Not Alyssa, not Polina. Not my own cursed soul.
All I feel is a gaping emptiness that gets larger with every passing second.
When I’ve had enough, I lock the cell and return upstairs where Nikolai is sitting at the makeshift table with his laptop in front of him.
“Well? Did you get his location?”
“Yeah, I got it.” He turns to me and stops short when he sees the blood on my hands. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” I growl as Sobakin’s words repeat over and over again in my head. “But it will be.”
5
ALYSSA
I thought things were bad before. That was nothing compared to the hours after Polly was taken.
I underestimated the warmth she brought in this cold cell. I underestimated how much seeing her next to me gave me strength and purpose. When she was here, I had a reason to be calm and focused. To project confidence until it almost felt real.
But now?
Everything just feels fucked.
My hope dwindles faster with every passing second. Even after I finish the contents of the plastic bag of food that those Russian assholes left me, I can’t bring myself to feel anything more than fear.
None of it is for me, though. Every time I close my eyes, I see Polly. Alone and shivering, marooned up on an endless stage with a horde of leering men standing around, licking their lips, wondering how much it will cost to get their hands on her. I struggle against the restraints again and again, even though they’ve proven they aren’t going anywhere and my wrists are basically one giant, pulsing, bloody nerve ending.