Chapter 16
Poland, ABW Headquarters
Petrov Tomas Fyodorovich, a skinny man, covered in Russian gang tattoos, displayed none of the fear he felt. Unconsciously, Petrov would brush his short-cut blond hair back with his left hand. His tobacco-stained right hand played with an empty metal ashtray, gripping the edges and spinning it.
Jakub, Rico, Boyd, and Chang watched Petrov in an adjoining room through a one-way mirror. “His body language says he’s ready,” said Jakub. “How do you want to handle this?”
Boyd looked at Rico, “You and Chang speak Russian. I think we shouldn’t let Petrov know this right away.”
“Yes, I agree. We will ask in English if we have questions, and you will translate. What about the other prisoner, Rodchenko Lev Georgiy? Which one is the senior man?”
“By Petrov’s t
