Page 119 of Rebellion

It was from seven hours ago.

Fuck. How long had they been working on Oleg?

He immediately tried to call her.

But it didn’t go through.

“Fuck. Shit. Her phone is going straight to voicemail,” he said.

Anisimov tensed, and Oleg’s grin widened even though he now couldn’t open his eyes and blood was everywhere. Hewouldn’t last much longer, which Colm wouldn’t care about if he wasn’t holding answers about Sofia’s safety.

“Who are you working for?” Anisimov asked. “Is it Callahan?”

Rogan had gone to have a chat with Callahan this morning while Sofia was still asleep. He’d denied any knowledge of anything.

But that didn’t mean that Colm trusted him.

“Callahan is . . . obsessed with father . . . death. Be . . . downfall . . . but he know . . . Sofia dreams.”

Shock filled Colm. “How the fuck would he know about her dreams?”

Oleg smiled again. “Me . . . tell . . . him. You think . . . I don’t . . . see . . . drawings . . . not around when . . . she dream.”

Shit.

If Oleg had told Callahan that Sofia had been drawing one of his gang tattoos and that she’d been having nightmares about it, he might have thought she knew something about his father’s death.

It was a bit of a stretch, but Callahan seemed to be grasping whatever lead he could.

“Doesn’t explain how you knew I shot Danill nor who Rafe guy is,” Anisimov demanded.

“Fuck . . . you.”

That was enough for Viktor to start the drill again. And use it this time.

“I . . . tell! I . . . tell! Stop!” Oleg cried.

Viktor drew back.

“Rafe work for . . . man was . . . angry at you. Supposed to . . . kill Sofia when . . . useless.”

Thank God Rafe had stopped.

“And Danill? How did you know I killed him? Who was helping you?”

They needed to go. Get to Sofia. Did Callahan have her?

Colm was going to kill him. He then noticed that Viktor was busy on his phone. What was he doing?

Oleg suddenly slumped, his eyes going dead.

“Fuck!” Anisimov said. “Have you tracked her?”

Viktor nodded. “Got where her phone last pinged, plus the trackers on her car and in her shoes have her at the same location.”

“Her car?” Anisimov frowned. “Her car... she doesn’t drive herself. Only Arseni drives her.”

Viktor stared at him. “And he knew about Danill.”

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