That Time in Moscow by Logan Ryles (summer reading list .TXT) 📕

the icy depths of the Moskva River, Wolfgang was back in the hotel room, freezing cold and exhausted.

“What happened?” Kevin bellowed, his face a shade of hellfire red.

Wolfgang wheezed and held up a finger again.

“Back off,” Megan snapped. “Lyle, make some coffee. Kevin, find some blankets.” She patted Wolfgang on the back, helping him to clear his throat, then guided him into the sitting room.

He sat down and rubbed his hands up and down his arms. A moment later, Kevin appeared with a blanket, tossing it at him with a semi-disgusted scowl. Wolfgang took it without shame, wrapping it around his shoulders as his heartbeat finally slowed.

How is it possible to run so hard and be so cold?

“Where’s—” Kevin started, but Megan glared him into silence.

A couple minutes passed, then Lyle appeared from the minibar with a Styrofoam cup of coffee. Wolfgang slurped down a scalding sip and nodded his thanks. He didn’t like coffee, but right then, he would’ve drunk hot dishwater.

“Are you injured?” Megan asked.

Wolfgang shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Okay. What happened?”

Wolfgang ran his hand through his hair and sat forward, taking another sip of the coffee.

“There were Russians at the club, looking for Sparrow, I think. They got Sparrow and Edric.”

“Got them? What do you mean got them?” Kevin said.

“I mean they arrested them!” Wolfgang glared at him. “What do you think I mean?”

Megan held up a hand. “Calm down, both of you. Wolf, start from the beginning.”

Wolfgang rubbed his tired eyes. “There was a Russian . . . he recognized me from Paris.”

Megan frowned. “From Paris?”

“You remember the guy I beat over the head with a toilet lid? At that hotel in Paris.”

Recognition dawned over Megan and Kevin.

“Yeah, well, he was at the nightclub. He recognized me, and I guess he assumed I was there because of Sparrow.”

Lyle appeared from the next room, carrying a laptop. He flipped the laptop around. “This guy?”

Wolfgang peered at the screen, then snapped his fingers. “Yes! That’s him. How did you know?”

Lyle smirked. “Your watch, dude. We saw the whole thing.”

Wolfgang glanced down at the watch, suddenly remembering the camera mounted in its case. In the heat of the moment, he’d completely forgotten about that feature. “So, you saw me . . .”

“Toss his ass in the river?” Megan finished. “Yeah, we saw it. Hell of a thing to do to an SVR officer.”

“SVR?”

Lyle tapped on the laptop, then spun the screen around again.

“Ivan Sidorov, Russian Foreign Intelligence Service.”

“Wait, his name is actually Ivan?”

He scanned the screen. The document on view was some kind of personnel file, maybe from the CIA, boldly featuring Ivan’s face at the top of the screen with details about his identity written beneath.

“Holy cow,” Wolfgang muttered. “He’s a senior officer. This guy is a big deal.”

“Yep.” Lyle flipped the computer shut, then sat down. “And I’m guessing he’s not the president of your fan club.”

Wolfgang winced, remembering the chunks of ice floating down the Moskva River.

Did I kill him?

“We’re screwed,” Kevin said, turning from the group and running both hands through his hair. “You guys realize that, right? The SVR has Edric. They have Sparrow. We’re screwed!”

“Kevin.” Megan snapped her fingers. “Sit. Now.”

Kevin dropped to a chair like a cowering dog, ducking his head to avoid her gaze.

Megan’s eyes blazed, then she turned back to Wolfgang. “Did you see where they took Edric?”

“No, Ivan had three guys with him, and they all went after Edric and Sparrow. There’s no way they got out.”

“So, they took them to the Ministry of Defense headquarters,” Kevin muttered. “Then a freaking gulag!”

Megan snapped her fingers again, and Kevin actually flinched.

The powers of a big sister.

Wolfgang rubbed his temples, closing his eyes and trying to recall everything he could about the other three Russians with Ivan—the ones who took Edric and Sparrow. They were big, they were ugly, and they were Russian. Beyond that, he couldn’t think of any distinguishing details.

“I’ll phone it in,” Lyle said. “We better pack up.”

Wolfgang looked up. “What?”

Lyle picked up the computer and shuffled toward his bag. “I said I’ll call it in to SPIRE headquarters. We’ll need to leave the city until we hear back.”

“Leave the city? Have you lost your mind? They have Edric!”

Megan held up a hand. “Calm down, Wolfgang. Lyle’s right. It’s protocol.”

“Protocol? To hell with protocol!” Wolfgang stood up. “We’re not leaving this city until Edric leaves with us.”

“Bold words from the guy who lost him.” Kevin said.

Megan started to interject, but Wolfgang spoke first. “You’re right, Kevin. I did lose him. So, now I’m gonna get him back, and the three of you are going to help me. Because that’s your job. Understand? Lyle, unpack that computer.”

Lyle hesitated, then everybody looked at Megan. She said nothing.

Wolfgang pinched his eyebrows together. “Seriously? How is this even a question? You want to quote protocol and—”

Megan held up a hand. “Wolfgang, chill. You’re right . . . we’re not leaving.”

Wolfgang nodded a couple times, too wound up to calm himself down. “Damn right, I’m right! Lyle, hand me that computer.”

He sat down again and fumbled in the pocket of Edric’s coat, producing the flash drive a moment later and accepting the computer from Lyle.

“What’s that?” Lyle asked. “It could have a virus! Don’t put it in my—”

Wolfgang ignored him and jabbed the drive into the side of the laptop, then navigated to the files application while everybody else leaned in.

“Where did you get that?” Megan asked.

“Sparrow brought it for Edric. He left it behind. I guess he knew he was gonna get caught.”

The group grew quiet as the files populated. There were over a dozen, all PDFs, all titled in Cyrillic. Wolfgang double-clicked on the first one, then expanded it to fit the screen. It was a diagram depicting what looked like a scuba diver’s backpack. Wolfgang zoomed in on it, then panned from one end to the other. The schematics detailed pipes, wires, and various electronic components, but all the notes were in Russian. Wolfgang clicked out of the file and opened the next four. All the designs were similar