37
Henderson
My hand sweeps out, knocking off the porcelain horses dotting the shelf—Bonnie’s idiotic collectibles that she insists on lugging with us all over the world. They shatter with a satisfying crash, but it’s not enough to quell the rage burning inside me.
Not yet located.
The words on my computer screen taunt me, rubbing me raw from within.
Manhunt ongoing but fugitive not yet located, the email from my CIA contact states.
How the f**k is that possible?
How could they have gotten away?
According to the SWAT agents who survived the gunfight, Sokolov had been shot at least twice—and there’s footage showing his wife stealing some supplies from a hospital, so he had to have been hurt badly enough for them to risk stopping there. Yet there’s no trace of the two of them anywher
