The jeep stopped at the edge of a village.
The village was small, with dozens of stone houses scattered on the hillside. A few children were playing by the roadside. When they saw the jeep, they stopped to watch.
She was dragged out of the car and pushed into a stone house.
The house was dark and cold, with only a bed, a chair, and a tin stove.
The door was locked from the outside.
She sat on the bed, looking at the closed door.
She thought of the words on the phone.
"Wait."
Wait for what?
Wait for someone to rescue her.
Who would come to rescue her?
She didn't know.
She only knew that her dad didn't sell her out.
March 28, 1998, 5:00 PM, London, in an apartment.
Andrei Petrovich sat in front of the computer, watching the flickering numbers.
