“Wait a sec.”Rami removed his phone from his pocket.“I have Mila’s file.It mentions Irinia’s family and the people Mila was working for here.”
“Her uncle, right?”
“Yeah, Boris something,” he mumbled.A minute later, he handed the device to Ghost.“Second page.”
Ghost read the list of names.Beside each was a driver’s license photo.
Boris Smirnov, age 61, married to Katia Smirnov, age 58
Denis Smirnov, age 33, son of Boris and Katia
Denis was the one sitting right in front of him.
“HeyRon.”Ghost snatched the duct tape from the end of his bed and knelt next to him, showing his captive the screen.“This guy look familiar?He looks a lot like your ugly ass.”
Denis shrunk back.
Ghost ripped off a strip of duct tape and slapped it over Denis’s mouth.Without hesitation, he brought his gun to Denis’s knee and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER 24
Mila’s head swam.Her forehead throbbed, and a low ringing sound pulsed in her ears.She tried to open her eyes.The ringing grew louder.Nausea slammed against her throat.Saliva flooded her mouth and her heart jackhammered in her chest.
She had to calm down.If she threw up, she’d probably pass out.
Breathe.Then you can think.
She squeezed her eyes shut and took a slow breath in through her nose.When the nausea subsided, she took stock of her body.She sat upright in a chair, her wrists bound in her lap.The weight on her arms told her it wasn’t tape or rope that constrained her.She moved her wrists.Chains rattled.
Panic flooded her.
She snapped open her eyes.The room spun and the need to vomit hit her again.She swallowed.Her mouth was as gritty as sandpaper.
She sat in front of a table.The smells of hay and animals filled her nostrils, transporting her back in time.It wasn’t the same barn as Irinia’s.Logic told her it was impossible she’d been taken to Russia.But the illogical part of her brain had been thrust back into the past.
Once again, she was a terrified little girl wanting to feel safe.
This time it wasn’t her parents she longed for.It was Ghost.
Where the hell am I?
She didn’t dare try to swivel her head around.Not until she got her bearings.She scanned the room with her gaze.Even the table in front of her was positioned like the one in Russia twenty years ago.
A lone chair sat across from her.
Fear crawled up her neck, its tiny legs like metal tacks in her nervous system.She brought her attention to the chains binding her.Shackles surrounded both of her wrists.The steel loops were secured to the tabletop.
Irinia.
Tears stung her eyes.Tears of fear.Anguish.Anger.
She’d been stupid to think that she could escape Irinia.That the sick, twisted woman would ever stop torturing her.But this?Chaining her up in a barn again?It was a mindfuck on steroids.
Irinia knew how to get in Mila’s head.
Mila had broken the ties that’d bound her to Irinia, though.The woman had been effective in her brainwashing over the years, but all that had receded when she met Ghost.He’d brought her to life again.
The wooden door on the opposite side of the room rattled open.Irinia stepped inside.She was in shadows, but her rigid posture was unmistakable.As she walked further into the barn, the light reached her.Bathed her in a warm glow.