BooksBarbecue
Back The Asset
Chapters (86)
  1. Foreword
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. Afterword

Roth would come for her, she had to believe that, but if she was in Moscow the chance of her being found in time were virtually nonexistent. The Russians weren’t going to be taking any chances with her. She wasn’t headed for any ordinary jail.

She was getting colder and her shivering was beginning to get out of control. She was shaking so much the cage was beginning to rattle. She knew it wouldn’t take long for the cold to become a bigger threat than the gunshot wounds.

“What are you going to do with me?” she said, and as soon as she spoke she regretted it. It was a sign of her weakness, her desperation.

“I’m sure you can imagine.”

Laurel grimaced. She was in trouble and she knew it. The next few days of her life were going to be the worst thing imaginable. She would be tortured and interrogated in some dungeon built by Stalin, and no one would ever come to save her.

They’d pull her apart, body and soul, and strip her of anything that could possibly be of value to them. And when they were done, and she had nothing useful left to offer, they’d continue anyway, torturing her all the way to the end, prolonging the process, making her suffer as much as possible, until finally, in the end, her life would slip away from her body like a leaf falling from a tree.

She was a casualty of war and it was not going to be a happy ending.

“I’m freezing,” she whispered.

Davidov shrugged, like it was something he had no control over.

“The nurses will be here any minute,” he said. “You can tell them.”

He was old, and hunching down was difficult for him. Nevertheless, with some effort, he moved around so that he could get a better look at her face.

“Such a pretty thing,” he said. “And so much work. I almost feel guilty destroying it.”

He brought the cigar to the mesh, and carefully began sliding it through the gap in the wire. It was scarcely an inch from her eye.

Laurel’s hands were pressed against the wire and it was hard to move them, but she managed to squeeze them up past her chest and knock the cigar away.

It fell from Davidov’s hand and fell to the ground.

Davidov laughed. His face was so close to hers she almost could have clawed him through the mesh.

He was staring at her intently. “So perfect. I’m glad I got to see it so closely, this beautiful face, before I destroyed it.”

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