Page 108 of Unspoken

"When?" Vlad demands, his tone harsh.

"Maybe fifteen minutes ago," offers the teenage boy not meeting Vlad's steely gaze.

"Some other men came in asking for him," the girl adds. "I don't know who they were, but they didn't look friendly."

"They broke the cookie display," the boy says.

"We will not break anything," Vlad supplies sternly, pulling out a few hundred dollar bills from the inner pocket of his jacket. "We are looking for my brother." He hands the bills to the girl. "For the cookie display."

"Where did they go?" I press as my blood continues to run cold. I was certain I’d find him here.

The girl hides the money into her apron’s pocket. "They left right after him. He went out back." She points a shaking finger toward the rear of the diner where a sign indicates bathrooms.

"Show me," Vlad commands.

The girl leads us to the back, her steps hurried and unsteady. I shove the door open, the metal groaning under the force of my desperation. Outside, I find Ivan standing like a massive,suited-up, armed abnormality in the desert, his eyes fixed on the ground. As we approach, he lifts his head, his expression dark.

"Sasha went that way," he reports, gesturing into the distance where the silhouettes of structures linger.

"Let's go," Vlad orders, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. He turns to Ivan. "Take the lead on foot. Follow the tracks."

I step forward, my resolve unwavering. "I'm coming with you," I declare, meeting Ivan's gaze.

Vlad nods, a flicker of understanding passing between us. He rushes back to the front of the restaurant to bring the SUV over. The rest of the vehicles with his silent crew fall into formation around him. The engines roar to life, and we set off, the tires kicking up dust as we leave the asphalt behind.

Ivan and I forge ahead, our eyes scanning the ground for any sign of Sasha's passage. The tracks are faint, barely discernible, but we press on, fueled by a potent mix of fear and adrenaline.

The SUVs crawl behind us. Vlad’s window is down and occasionally he and Ivan exchange words in Russian.

As we draw closer to the abandoned structures, Ivan slows his pace, then his hand is in the air. Suddenly, the air erupts with the staccato burst of gunfire, bullets zooming past us like angry bees.

"Get down!" Ivan shouts, diving for cover behind a rusted oil drum.

I follow suit, dropping to the ground and scrambling toward the nearest SUV.

"Get in!" Vlad’s door swings open. He reaches over and I grab his hand. I’m inside the vehicle, in the back seat. I watch Ivan pushing his way to the other SUV while Vlad’s crew opens responding fire.

"Go around," Vlad barks at the driver, his voice barely discernible over the racket of gunfire.

The vehicle lurches forward and changes course. We circle the cluster of structures to avoid more bullets.

As we get closer, I spot shapes darting across the rooftops, their movements frantic. "There!" I shout, pointing at the figures. The driver reacts instantly, steering the car toward the entrance, tires screeching against the old, cracked asphalt and leaving burn marks.

Several of us, including Vlad and Ivan, leap out of the vehicles and rush into the building.

"We need to find stairs," I supply.

"We'll have to split up," Vlad says, his voice tight with tension. "You take the east side. I'll cover the west." He gestures at Ivan to follow him.

I nod. My Glock is in my grasp. The rest of the crew starts fanning out to secure the perimeter.

I dart into the dark corridor and press forward. Somewhere above me, I hear the pounding of footsteps. The sound is a dull echo in the empty, ravaged space. At the end of the corridor, there is a staircase, the railing not finished. I take the stairs two at a time, my lungs burning with the effort. When I emerge onto the roof, the harsh desert wind hits me like Vlad’s blow to the face.

As I turn around and scan the expanse of the rooftop, then glance at the nearest building, I spot Sasha with his blond hair ruffled by the same harsh wind. His pursuer is drawing closer.

A hot rush of adrenaline races in my veins. I break into a sprint, leaping over the gap between buildings with reckless abandon. Gunfire erupts somewhere around me, the bullets ricocheting off the concrete and metal.

I duck and weave, my mind focused solely on reaching Sasha. The distance between us seems to stretch out endlessly, each step feeling like an eternity.

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