Chapter Seventeen
Rurik
Kosice, Slovakia
The afternoon sun reflected off windshields, glaring into Rurik’s face as he made his way down the line of RVs, hands in pockets, feet scuffing the earth. The meeting with Ivan and the others had started an hour ago. Yet when he arrived at Ivan’s camper, he hesitated outside the door, wishing he had somewhere else to be. Anywhere else. But, except for hiding out in his RV, he had nothing to do. The Markarovs had taken over the whole circus.
He knocked and when someone called, “Come in,” he opened the door and trudged up the steps.
Inside, Ivan rolled his wheelchair back and beckoned Rurik toward the kitchen. Seated at the table, Misha and Vadim gave him overly-cheerful smiles.
Fakers.
Rurik slid into a seat and glanced around. The place looke
