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Anastasia Lenkov wants to live a normal life as a nurse after escaping her old, brutal life. But her past keeps catching up with her. She is on the run from the Russian mafia, because her father, the boss, will n...
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"Fifty-nine."
"Sixty."
Dead silence hung over the room.
I remained in my position for a few moments, and then I turned my head back slightly. No one was there.
She was gone. Gone - just like that.
A low growl, which should have been an exhale, left my lips and I stood up. I grabbed my gun and walked out of the room. I knew where I had to go.
With one step after another, I walked down the hallway she was in earlier. Something must have happened. Something.
Soon I stopped in front of a door. It had a code lock. I exhaled frantically, grabbed the knife from my trouser pocket, and tried to pry the door open. It didn't move a millimeter.
Fuck.
I kicked it causing it to shudder under my shoe.
How did Anastasia get through this door? My eyes lingered on the code lock.
I thought about her words.
She was talking a bunch of shit. She wanted me out of here, but why and for what? Her words ran through my head.
I froze. My hands fell to the side of my body. I understood. She was a genius.
Two plus two remains four, Ramirez. It doesn't matter how much you want it to be a five.
I quickly moved to the code lock, typed in a few numbers, and the door opened. I stared at the unlocked door.
The code was 2245.
I took a deep breath and moved through the door, my gun drawn. There was no one in the hallway.
There were two doors in this place. I opened the one to my left. With the gun in front of me, I looked into the room. It was completely empty. There was a smell of blood in here. Slowly I stepped out and went to the other door.
My hand pushed down the handle and I stared up at the night sky. This was the exit. My eyebrows drew together. Anastasia had led me to the exit.
What the hell was going on?
The sounds of gunfire were louder here and I walked along the wall of the house toward the sounds. In the courtyard in front of this warehouse was a complete battlefield. My men were standing behind the old equipment and firing at the Russian guards.
I saw Thomas sitting behind an old trailer. His face was terribly bruised. He was refilling the magazine of a gun while being shot at.
As soon as it stopped, he stood up and fired back. In the darkness, you could almost only see the flashing of the guns. That's what I was thinking anyway. The next moment, however, the clouds drifted past the moon and it shone down on the happening with its full power.
