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

a dead-end answering machine—not something she could transmit the files with. They left her high and dry, honestly.”

Wolfgang assimilated the news and wondered if it changed anything. He decided it didn’t and turned back to Edric. “Can you walk?”

Edric nodded.

“Good. The team is on their way. We’ve got to get Koslov.”

“Why? We need to extract immediately.”

“No. This man risked everything to expose what he thought was state-sponsored illegal weaponry. When he discovered he was actually being used by a terrorist network, he risked his life to thwart them. We came here to get him out, and that’s what we’ve got to do. Whatever it takes.”

Edric sighed. “Damn you, Wolfgang. You’re too good a man for this job.”

Wolfgang grinned. “Tell Megan, won’t you?” He walked to the door, peering out through the window again. From somewhere in the distance, Wolfgang heard the shouts of guards rushing down distant hallways. The voices grew louder, joined by the perpetual whine of the fire alarm.

“Get up!” Wolfgang said, motioning to Edric. “They’re coming!”

Edric hauled himself into a sitting position and swung his feet off the bed, his hand still cuffed to the cot. In the pool of light spilling through the narrow window, his face looked even worse than before. A spiderweb of bruises ran across his cheeks, and his nose was stuffed with tissue paper.

Wolfgang winced. “Ivan really worked on you, didn’t he?”

Edric grunted, and then something flashed on the other side of the window.

“Stand back!” Wolfgang ducked to the side, then the door shook violently.

A moment later, it crashed open, and a big man in full firefighter gear with a giant oxygen tank on his back stepped inside. He took off his helmet and flashed Edric a big grin. “’Sup, boss?”

Megan piled in behind Kevin, also dressed in firefighter gear. Hers was designed for a woman but still much too big for her, gathering around her ankles and sliding around on her shoulders like a sleeping bag.

She flipped her visor up and motioned to Wolfgang. “Hands!”

Wolfgang held out his hands, and Megan produced a small set of bolt cutters from her pocket. She cut the chain between his wrists, then hurried to free Edric. “Kevin, get the smoke ready!” Megan snapped.

Kevin hurried out of the cell, sliding the tank off his back and setting it down in one corner. Wolfgang and Megan helped Edric up and guided him out of the cell to where Kevin’s duffle bag waited.

“Dress-up time!” Megan said. She unzipped the bag and dumped out two more firefighter suits, complete with boots and helmets.

Wolfgang and Edric changed as shouts erupted down the hallway.

“That would be the real firefighters,” Kevin said. “Let’s go!”

Wolfgang pulled on a fireproof jacket. “Wait! We have to find Sparrow. Check the other cells.”

Megan grabbed his sleeve and jerked him toward the door. “We don’t have time. Kevin, start the smoke!”

Wolfgang jerked his arm free. “I don’t have time to explain—we need Sparrow.”

He broke into a run down the short hallway, glancing into one detention cell after another. They were all empty, with stripped mattresses on metal cots. No prisoners. No sign of Sparrow.

“Wolfgang!” Megan shouted. “We have to go!”

The stomps in the hallway pounded louder now. Kevin hesitated over the bottle, one hand near the nozzle as he glanced between Wolfgang and Megan. Wolfgang continued to run, checking the last five cells one at a time and grinding to a halt at the fourth one.

“Here! She’s here! Kevin, come on!”

Wolfgang wrestled with the lock. It was electronic, and the door wouldn’t budge. Kevin appeared next to him a moment later, the bottle in hand. With one powerful heave, he slammed the base of the bottle downward, obliterating the electronic lock. The door clicked, and Wolfgang shoved it open, concluding that the cell was better designed to keep people in than out.

Before he crossed the threshold, he already knew she was dead. Sparrow lay on her back, foaming saliva trailing down one cheek and her empty eyes staring up at the ceiling. Wolfgang slid to his knees and grabbed her wrist out of habit, feeling her cold, thin skin under his touch. Her eyes were sunken in, and patchy blotches covered her neck.

“She’s dead,” Kevin said. “Can we go now?”

Wolfgang held up a hand, his mind still racing. The frailty of her body—the way her skin clung to her bones, and the look in her eyes—he’d seen it all before. He felt through her pockets, finding nothing but a worn photograph of her with a man he didn’t recognize. He pocketed the picture, then saw something glistening beneath the edge of her neckline. He pulled the shirt down just a little and exposed a metal chain around her neck, disappearing beneath the shirt. A quick tug of the chain produced a metal tag, stamped with Russian writing on one side.

“Wolfgang!” Kevin bellowed.

Wolfgang snatched the tag, breaking the thin chain and jumping back to his feet. He gave Sparrow another long glance, feeling a sudden wave of sadness consume him as he stared into her forlorn eyes. He nodded. “Okay. Let’s go!”

They barreled out of the cell, and Wolfgang scooped up a helmet. Megan waited by the door, supporting Edric with one arm as Kevin slammed the bottle down on the floor and twisted the knob next to the nozzle. Wolfgang heard a soft click, then a hiss as gas burst from the top. A moment later, dense white fog filled the room, clouding near the floor and spilling toward them.

Chlorosulfuric acid. A smoke screen.

“Let’s roll!” Kevin said, pushing from behind.

The group crashed out of the dentition facility and into the hallway, immediately colliding with four Russian firefighters carrying axes and fire extinguishers. They paused in confusion as Megan and Wolfgang crashed ahead hauling Edric, his body limp and his shoes dragging.

“Gaz! Gaz!” Megan shouted.

The brigade of firefighters looked toward the clouds of white smoke billowing from the detention facility, and their eyes turned wide. They walked backward, shouting into radios as Megan, Wolfgang, Edric, and Kevin