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The way he narrowed his eyes indicated more confusion than a man of his stature within my organization should have. But perhaps I was reading more into his reaction than I should. However, every avenue was still on the table.

Including who I could trust.

He turned his head away from me, scanning the room as I’d done before. “Let me take you to the main office.”

“First. I need to see where they were kept.”

“Are you certain you want to do that to yourself?”

“How many times do I need to remind you that your attempt at handling me isn’t in your best interest?”

“What’s going on with you, Maxsim?”

I moved around him, heading toward the door, stopping just inside. “Things will never be the same, Sergei. My child is drawing pictures of monsters instead of sketches of her dog. The day after her second birthday party we had to take her to the hospital for terrifying tests. She placed stuffed animals around her in a circle in her room as if hoping they’d protect her from evil spirits. I was supposed to protect her, but I didn’t. Mina calls me her hero. What a crock of shit.”

My brigadier knew when to keep his mouth shut. “I’ll show you where they stayed.”

The room wasn’t the way I’d pictured it in my mind. There were no chains hooked to the wall or on the cot they’d stayed on. There was a window that had been mostly blocked off, and a locked door.

Yet I needed to feel them in the room, which was why I eased onto the side of the bed. I hung my head, somehow able to feel their spirits. I’d sworn an internal oath to keep them safe. I’d struggled with finding the right words to keep them from sounding hollow.

I’d imagined the fear they’d experienced and had blamed myself.

No more.

Now I had a chance to turn the tide and would.

“Where is the office?”

“Not far away.” He led me down two corridors to a room. The set up remained, a basic office with cheap furniture and even file cabinets.

“They were mostly empty,” he told me.

“Meaning?”

Sergei wasted no time moving around the desk to where a cassette tape recorder had been left. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of these.”

“Yes.” I was fascinated and headed to the other side of the desk.

“Now we know how the recordings were done.” He pressed play and I immediately heard her voice. My name. Telling me she loved me. But there were several other recordings.

“Interesting.”

“The fucking mind games were going to continue for an indeterminate timeframe. My question is why leave them behind?”

I managed to laugh. “To continue fucking with me and nothing more.”

“Well, then you’re going to find this equally as interesting.” He handed me a photograph taken by a polaroid camera from at least thirty years before when my father was maybe a little older than I was now.

Two men appearing as friends, standing in front of a new car. My father had his signature cigar in his mouth. The other man I didn’t recognize, but looked familiar. I snatched it from his hand. There was no writing on the back, no indication why the photograph seemed to be of importance.

But the clue was exactly what I needed.

“Now we know this involves your father.” Sergei made the statement with complete reverence. Omar Aristov was the reason he was even alive.

Why was the man’s face so damn familiar?

“Was there anything else?”