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 tattoos, we believe he is the senior. W
