The doctor reluctantly prepares a syringe. As the drugs enter my system, making everything fuzzy, I hear Harrison giving orders.
"Put her in the secure wing. Twenty-four hour monitoring. Then we make her start talking. I want to know everything—who the Morozovs work with, their safe houses, their contacts. She'll break eventually. And when she does, we'll send her off to spend eternity with her beloved husband.."
I won't break,I think through the haze.
As consciousness fades, I force myself to observe. Three guards in the hallway. Cameras in the corners but not complete coverage. The doctor keeps medical supplies in an unlocked cabinet. The window has bars but they're rusted.
Gather intel. Find weaknesses. Survive.
For the baby. For Mikhail's memory. For revenge.
The last thing I see before the drugs take me under is Harrison on his phone.
"Yes, Ghost is dead. The woman is secured... No, she bought it completely. Thinks he's really gone... The baby? Still viable. Could be useful..."
Something in his tone makes me wonder, even through the sedatives. The way he emphasized "thinks" he's gone...
But then darkness claims me, and I dream of Mikhail's eyes, promising he'll find a way back.
I wake to harsh fluorescent lights and the antiseptic smell of medical facilities. The monitors beep steadily—both my heartbeat and the baby's. Still alive. Both of us.
"Mrs. Kozlov?"
The doctor from before stands beside my bed, checking charts. We're alone, I realize. No guards in the immediate room.
"The baby?"
"Stable. The bleeding stopped. But you need to remain calm."
"How can I be calm? My husband is dead."
He glances toward the door, then leans closer. "Things aren't always what they seem," he whispers, so quietly I almost miss it.
"What?"
"Harrison likes his games. His psychological torture." He adjusts my IV, using the movement to cover his words. "The video he showed you—"
"Jensen!" Harrison's voice makes us both jump. "Are you bothering my patient?"
"Just checking her vitals, sir."
"Leave us."
The doctor—Jensen—squeezes my hand briefly before leaving. A message?
Harrison pulls up a chair. "Feeling better?"
"Go to hell."
"Such language from a federal agent to her superior."
"Former federal agent. And you are nothing to me."
"I’m your host.," he corrects. "You're my guest until you give birth. Then we'll reassess."
"You mean you'll steal my baby and kill me."
"Possibly. Or perhaps I'll keep you alive. Ghost's widow could be useful. Break you properly, rebuild you as an asset."
