20. Wise Advice #3

“Ona govorit po-russki?” he asked. Does she speak Russian?

“Ty idiot?” Natasha seethed. “Konechno, ona znayet.” Are you idiot? Of course she does.

“Oni etogo ne delayut — tak kto teper' idiot?” he barked. They don't, so who's the idiot now?

“Zamolchi!” Natasha barked. Shut up!

The guard stood there glaring at Natasha.

“Perestan' tratit' moyo vremya. Otvedi nas k nim,” Natasha said. Stop wasting my time. Bring us to them.

A rumble ripped from his backside… the guard passed the most heinous-smelling fart. Forcing herself not to gag, Halston stopped breathing as they followed him toward a door on the other side of the building.

“Ty otvratitelen,” Natasha said. You are disgusting.

They finally agreed on something, but Halston wouldn’t give Natasha an inch. The saying, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend’, did not apply to Natasha.

They were all her enemy.

Always had been. Always would be.

Halston homed in on the tattoo on the back of the man’s neck. Another dragon tattoo, same as Natasha’s, only this one was black outlined in red.

Bratva.

In those few seconds, she deduced that Natasha’s tattoo might have been a sign that she was tied to a Bratva. In her case, she’d been engaged to one… until Gabriel gunned him down the night he was ambushed.

The Bratva opened the door. Natasha tossed her a nod. “Go.”

Flexing her fingers into fists, Halston entered the back room. Natasha followed after her. As she took in the scene, she gasped.

Twelve people were shackled to twelve cots.

Six on one side, six on the other. Two prisoners were standing, one man was lying down, the remaining nine were sitting on their beds.

As she stared from one to the other, her heart broke from the defeat in their eyes.

A woman who had been seated, rose. It was her mother.

Across the room from her mom stood her dad.

“Ohmygod,” she murmured, the shock vibrating through her.

Halston cracked her knuckles.

This is war. Full-on war.

She could take out the Bratva guard, no problem. She would take joy in eliminating Natasha. But she’d have to separate them first, disarm the guard second.

That’s the challenge.

As she glanced around the room, she had no idea if there were surveillance cameras hidden in the high ceiling or mounted in the corners.

“Who are they?” Halston asked.

“No one to you,” Natasha replied. “They do job for us. You tell them what to do.”

“YA tebya ne ponimayu. Govori po-russki,” said the Bratva. I don’t understand you. Speak in Russian.

“YA skazal tebe zatknut'sya,” Natasha snapped. I told you to shut up.

The Bratva trained his weapon on Natasha’s face. “Russkiy.” Russian.

This bickering might get Natasha killed, so Halston stayed quiet.

Ladno, kak skazhesh',” Natasha said. Fine. Have it your way.

“Otkuda oni?” Halston asked. Where are they from?

“How the hell do I know!” Natasha yelled.

“Na kakikh yazykakh oni govoryat?” Halston asked Natasha. What languages do they speak?

“Ask them!” Natasha screamed.

The Bratva pointed his gun at Natasha again.

“Help me,” moaned the man lying on the cot.

Halston’s mother walked as far as her shackled legs would allow. “Il ne va pas bien et a besoin de ses médicaments,” she said in fluent French. He is not well and needs his medication.

“Bonjour, Maman. Pourquoi as-tu été enlevée?” Halston asked. Hello, Mommy. Why were you kidnapped?

“Ce sont les scientifiques avec qui Papa et moi avons fait le tour de l'Europe. Des experts des réseaux électriques,” her mother replied. These are the scientists Daddy and I toured Europe with. Power grid experts.

Perevodit',” Natasha said. Translate.

“Muzhchine na krovati nuzhny lekarstva. Yemu nezdorovitsya,” Halston said to Natasha. The man on the bed needs his medication. He’s not well.

“Yesli oni ne delayut togo, chto im govoryat, oni poluchayut pulyu v golovu,” said the Bratva.” If they don’t do what they’re told, they get bullet in head. “Nado posrat'.” I need to take a shit.

He left through the only door in the holding cell.

“If he were the last man on earth, I’d go in the other direction,” Halston murmured under her breath.

Natasha laughed. “Same.”

“How can I help?” Halston asked. “What do you need me to do?”

“The main scientist—Devereux—needs to finish job,” Natasha said. “My English not strong.”

Halston walked closer to the chained group and asked her mom. “Quelles langues parlez-vous?” What languages do you speak?

“Anglais, francais, italien, danois, et chinois,” her mom replied. English, French, Italian, Danish, and Chinese.

Since her father only spoke English—and Natasha would understand them—she directed her question to her mother. “Que veulent-ils que Dr Devereux fasse?” What do they want Dr. Devereux to do?

The color drained from her mom’s face as she explained the reason they’d been taken.

This is much worse than I thought.

Halston wanted to awaken from this hellish nightmare, but she had to address the harsh reality… and handle the situation like a boss lady. What other choice did she have?

If she didn’t, they’d end up dead.

Her included.

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