The silver identification tag pressed into the meat of my palm until the metallic edges drew a tiny, sharp drop of blood. Inside the speeding military ambulance, the fluorescent tube flickering overhead cast long, skeletal shadows across Sasha’s sleeping face. He was breathing softly now, the clear plastic mask fogging up with every steady, warm exhale as the medicine did its work. But my eyes were fixed on the small leather pouch hidden under my long apron skirt. Leo Alex Gervas. My missing brother's name was staring back at me, written in thick, fading ink, and the fresh, wet blood on the brass buckle was warming my cold fingertips.
HE IS IN CAR THREE.
The words carved into the silver plate pulsed in my mind like a second heartbeat. The caravan of state security vehicles was moving at
