The Moscow safehouse was a basement under a butcher shop. It always smelled of cold meat and bleach. Better than the last place. That one smelled like a gas leak and panic. Borealis sat on his cot, a blanket pulled around him. He was staring at the wall. Hadn’t said a word in two days.
Jax watched him from across the room. He was cleaning the Glock again. Kenji was upstairs, listening to the police scanner. They’d pulled Borealis out of the research block three nights back. It wasn’t clean. He didn’t fight. Just let them lead him. Like he wasn’t sure they were really there.
That was the thing.
In Tokyo, they broke Kenji’s body. In São Paulo, they drowned Caiman in the dark.
Here, Voss did something else.
Borealis was tall, thin. Hair so blonde it was white. Eyes like pale water. Right
