Page 71 of Wicked Arrangement

I don’t like the fact we’re being led down a one-way route, it could be another trap. Fortunately, we don’t encounter anyone as we make our way into the factory’s heart. When the corridor finally ends, we enter the main, disused factory floor where we’re able to quickly dispatch the small group of men patrolling there. We move toward the one main room the dead men appeared to be guarding. Inside, there’s a control room with several CCTVmonitors under the supervision of just one man. So, that’s how they knew where we were coming from to attack.

He cowers in the corner, his gun shaking in his hands as he realizes he has no place to run, there’s only one way in and out of the room. Before he can react, I fire, killing him instantly. Now we have access to the control room, we can see where the rest of the men are. There are surprisingly fewer than I would have anticipated, I’ve no doubt we can easily take them. There’s no sign of Sharkozi, not that I expected him to be here, he’d rather let others do his dirty work.

I didn’t come here today for Sharkozi, I came for Kim and my sister. Finally, I spot Marta, alone and tied to a chair but seemingly alive. But where’s Kim?

“I’ve got eyes on Marta here, seems she’s at the far end of the building. Can anyone see Kim?” I ask, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

“Found her!” Fedor exclaims, pointing to one of the screens.

Kim and Marta have been placed in separate parts of the building from each other. We’re going to have to split up. And I’m going to have to make a choice, I have to decide if I’m going to go with the team to rescue my sister or to one looking for Kim.

I don’t have time to agonize over it. I have to trust my gut. And my men.

“Fedor, you lead group one after Marta, I’m going for Kim with the others. We’ll meet back, in the middle, if either team encounters issues once the target is secure, we double back to help. Artem and the others should be here soon. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they echo in unison as we head off.

Kim is closer to us, which makes her the more obvious person to save first. At least that’s what I’m telling myself is the reason I chose to go to her first. I can double back once I know she’s safe, to get Marta. I can save them both. I have to. I can’t let myself think of the alternative.

Chapter 36

Kimberly

It takes me a minute to realize where I am and what’s happening when I groggily come to, the sedative finally wearing off. I realize with panic that I’m tied to a chair, in a dark room that smells damp and disused. Then, it all comes flooding back to me in a horrifying rush. The kidnapping. Marta and I were drugged and put into the trunk of a car by masked men.

“Marta?” I call out into the gloom, hoping she’s there.

I strain my eyes to hear her but there’s nothing, just the sound of a dripping faucet somewhere and the squeaking of rats—something I won’t allow myself to dwell on lest my fear renders me completely useless. I hope that means Marta has been taken elsewhere, and that she’s still okay. I can’t let myself consider the alternative, that the reason she’s not responding is because she’s already dead. I strain against my restraints, and they painfully cut into my flesh but won’t budge.

How long have I been here? Where am I? Does Yaroslav know we’ve been taken?If he does, surely he must be looking for me.

I try to quell the scream of panic that threatens to bubble up in my throat. I need to stay calm and think rationally. I have to try to get myself out of this situation.

If I’m still alive that has to be a good sign, surely that must mean that whoever took me wants me for something. That I’mbetter off alive than dead to them, at least for now. Slowly, my eyes start to adjust to the darkness and my head stops spinning so badly. I can’t help but fret about the unborn child in my stomach and the effect the drug and stress might have on them. It’s the one thing that keeps me calm. I have to try to control my anxiety levels for the baby’s sake.

My eyes roam around the room, searching for clues as to my whereabouts or tools I can use to escape, but there’s nothing. They’ve left me alone and afraid in this godforsaken empty hellhole.

What if no one comes? What if I’m left here to slowly waste away and starve to death? I’ve heard that it’s the lack of water that kills you first. How long does it take to die without water? That might be a worse fate than whoever kidnapped me coming and finishing me off.

Neither prospect is comforting. I don’t want to die here.

As I sit, my mind races through all of the possible scenarios of how this situation could play out, each one more terrifying than the last. I try to focus on my breathing and think about everything I want to do if I get out here alive instead.

I want to tell Yaroslav how I feel about him. I want to raise our baby together and be the best mom I can be. I want to visit Gran and tell her how much I love her and that she’s going to be a great-grandma. I want to go back to Charleston and visit my parents’ graves. I want to apologize to Amelia for not being a better friend. I even want to try to find it in my heart to forgive Noah, though I don’t think I will ever allow him back into my life. I want to finally pursue my dream career. Maybe I even want to marry Yaroslav someday and have a family. There are so many things I wish I could do. I need more time. This can’t be howmy life ends, alone and cold, tied to a chair. When I’m gone, will anyone even know or will my body be thrown away like trash, never to be found?

I have no idea how much time has passed, but all of a sudden, I hear a noise. A loud banging in the distance. As the noise gets closer, I realize it’s the sound of gunfire.

It’s like music to my ears, the sound of imminent rescue. There’s no way my kidnappers would be firing randomly unless under attack. It has to be Yaroslav. He’s found us. He’s here!

My heart leaps at the prospect of rescue. There’s no doubt in my mind that Yaroslav will be the one to win this fight. These people have no idea who they’re messing with.

I knew he’d come for me.

Yet an insidious, niggling doubt tries to worm its way into my brain. What if the only reason they’ve come is to save Marta? She’s family after all. I could be left behind.

Before despair can kick in, I hear fighting, so close it must be outside the room I am in. Then, the door opens, and I’m momentarily blinded by the bright light that floods the room. Silhouetted in the doorway I can make out the impressive figure of a man, a shape I know well.

“Yaroslav!” I cry out giddy with emotion, though my voice breaks and sounds weak and horse from shouting.

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