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Lauren slowly pushed up into a sitting position, feeling a lot stronger than before. “What time is it?”
“Ten p.m.”
“I slept a long time…”
He put his fingers beneath her chin, holding her still. “Stare at my nose.”
Lauren almost smiled, remembering Alex speaking nearly these same exact words to her. His touch wasn’t harsh, but gentle instead. His straight eyebrows drew down, his shadowed, blue eyes intent under them as he moved the light slowly back and forth across her eyes. His mouth pursed and he released her chin, getting up, stepping away from her.
“You have a level-two concussion,” he said, his voice flat.
Lauren watched him walk away, to one end of the huge, oval cave. She felt a breeze moving through it and shivered. She laid her back against the cave wall, bringing her knees up against herself. Morozov opened up a large green canvas bag. He drew out what appeared to be two blankets.
“Now,” he said, tossing them down next to her, “get warm.”
Grateful, she whispered, “Thank you.” Dizziness overtook her and Lauren closed her eyes, not moving for a moment.
“There’s no need to tie you up,” he remarked, going back to the same bag. “You couldn’t take two steps without falling over. If I were you, I wouldn’t think about trying it.”
Lauren had to keep her cover. Pulling one blanket across her shoulder, and draping the other over her drawn-up legs, she felt warmer immediately. “Please, I’m an American. I’m here on vacation—”
Morozov gave a harsh laugh. “Really?” He stood and walked back toward her, something in his hands. Crouching down near her, eyeing her with amusement, he said, “Then why are you wearing a hog’s tooth? I don’t think many civilians go around with one. Do you?”
Her heart squeezed with fear. Lauren stared at him. Morozov was grinning and he shook his head.
“You are a sniper, Lauren. A Marine Corps Recon sniper if I don’t miss my guess. What? You think we’re stupid? I was Spetsnaz black ops. It takes one to know one.” His smile disappeared.
“Who else knows?” Lauren asked, her voice low and urgent.
Shrugging, Morozov said, “Only me. I saw it as I was taping up your scalp wound.”
“What are you going to do with this information?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Not yet.” He handed her a half a loaf of bread and took out his knife and cut a block of cheese in half. “Here, you need to eat. Keep up your strength.”
Lauren gratefully accepted his food. “Thank you…”
Morozov sat down, cross-legged, near her feet. “You don’t look like an operator, but from what Volkov told us, you are one.” He grinned a little. “You’re the first person I’ve ever known to take him down. He’s a CQC, close quarters combat, specialist.” His grin widened as he tore off a piece of the bread with his teeth. “Couldn’t have happened to a better person. And then, to make this even better, you, a woman, did it to Volkov,” and he laughed quietly, enjoying the joke.
Lauren found herself ravenous. The cheese was salty. Pure fat and protein; something that would fuel her body, pour strength back into her. The bread was old and very dry, but it would fill her up. She watched the Ukrainian eat, his gaze never in one place too long, listening, sensing, like all operators always did. She felt that Morozov was basically a kind person. For whatever reason she wasn’t afraid of him. Maybe because Alex had spoken so warmly and fondly about him.
“So, I know,” Nik murmured, “you won’t admit to anything to me about that hog’s tooth.” His brow fell. “They will torture you, rape you, and you will die, Lauren. It will not be a pleasant death for you.”
Her throat tightened and she stared into his bleak gaze. He seemed upset by this outcome. Did he have that much conscience left within him to feel sympathy for her? An ounce of humanity still left within Morozov? Hope flared in her. She finished off the cheese, rubbing her hands against the wool blanket. “Then let me go.”
“And be killed by them for letting you escape?” he scoffed.
“I think you care, Nik,” Lauren began softly, holding his stare. “I don’t think you want to see me hurt by your team. Do you?” She held her breath, watching his eyes come alive with confusion, anger and frustration.
“It cannot be.”
“Where did your team go?”
He shook his head. “You have balls. You’re the one who is the prisoner. You’re not to ask questions. You are to answer them.”
She felt that he was just waffling. It wasn’t anything obvious. Just the tone in his voice. Lauren wasn’t sure what to do. If the rest of the Russian team came back, she knew she was going to die. It was only a question of when, not if. And did Alex or Killmer know where she was? Were they tracking her?
Looking at him, she whispered, “If you saw me in the village, then you saw Alex Kazak. Didn’t you?”
