Page 62 of Blazing Embers

I shake my head. “No. We can’t be too sure where Petra’s allegiance lies. She is, after all, one of them, even if she was only a test subject for a short while.” I rub my chin. “As long as Clyde and his team are hovering, at least the baby isn’t vulnerable.”

“Are Carla Craft, Galina Mirochin, and Nikolas Vasilikis still at the Morozov farm?”

“Yes.” Viktor nods. “No change there.”

“Good, the general said he’d keep them there while my brothers and our other men search Vegas for that box and photo.” My eyes narrow. “If they leave the Mirochin Mansion, ask Ilya to send one of the men to search it. Sabrina could’ve brought it with her.”

“Will do, boss.” Viktor nods.

Sabrina being detained by General Ergorov might just be what I need to get to see Sabrina.

I pause. “Send reinforcements to Ilya. Make sure he shadows Oleksi. Every movement, every breath.”

“Yes, boss.”

I pick up the doctor’s report again. The RMSAD asked for a meeting for damage control. Good. I’ll use it to get a one-on-one with their newest prisoner: Sabrina Craft. She came to Russia in search of Tara. Which means she doesn’t know where Tara is. Yet.

I glance at my phone. The doctored photo of Konstantin at the Georgian border, with a blurry image of Tara still visible, remains there. It was enough to fool Carla Craft and her friends. Sent them chasing ghosts while we searched Vegas for the box.

My chest burns. Tara. That woman has cost me everything. And I still don’t know if my child was a girl or a boy. She gave birth in secret. Hid every trace. But now I have to wonder if maybe… maybe she didn’t give the child away. Perhaps the baby is still close. I glance at Sabrina’s patient file. Maybe a lot closer than I realized. And Sabrina knows the truth. She’ll talk. She’ll have no choice.

“Get Pavel,” I snap. “Have the car ready. And make sure Ilya gets his bonus for this information. I think it’s what I’ve been looking for.”

“Will do.” Viktor smiles slightly, pride shining in his eyes.

“Looks like your little brother’s earning his place. I’ll talk to the General about DG training after this,” I promise.

My phone rings. I glance at it. Konstantin.

“I’ll get the car for you.” Viktor steps out of the office.

“Tell me you have something,” I answer the call.

“I have something,” Konstantin says, voice sharp. “And you’re not going to like it.”

My stomach knots. “What do you mean?”

“Switch to video.”

I do. The screen lights up with his face. He is wearing dark sunglasses, an island-style blue cotton shirt, and a hat. There is a ridiculous coconut cocktail in hand. Behind him, a beach. A golden, glittering paradise.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“A private island. Off Greece.”

“You’re calling me to show me a beach?”

He turns the camera. “Wait for it.”

I sigh. “Konstantin?—”

Then I hear it—a familiar voice. “Come on, slowpoke. I’m just as waddly as you are.”

That voice. That laughter. And then… the soft giggle of a child.

My blood freezes.

Two figures walk into frame. A man, a woman. A baby carrier on the man’s chest. And the woman?—

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