I grab the phone and read the text message that just came in.
BOSS:We have the girls. Do what you want with the idiot boy.
My heart is beating frantically as I dial in the same number the text came from. It takes a couple of rings, but then I hear a deep raspy voice that feels vaguely familiar.
“I thought I told you not to fucking call me on this number.”
That voice. It’s unmistakable.
Boris Sobakin.
I hang up and drop the phone into my pants pocket. “Fuck!”I bellow.
“We’ll get them back, Uri,” Nikolai assures me.
But I barely hear him. The only things ringing in my ears right now are my own doubts, my own sense of inadequacy. My own fucking failures.
Because if I can’t keep them safe…
What good am I?
TO BE CONTINUED