CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Don’t make a move,” a voice said in English with a thick Slavic accent. “Drop the gun.”
Remi let go of the g*n and it fell to the carpeted floor with a thump.
She stood in an office. A filing cabinet to her right. Opposite her, a desk and an older desktop PC. To her left … she didn’t dare turn that direction.
“Step forward,” the voice ordered.
She took a couple of steps forward, getting out of sight of the doorway and any possible help. Gunfire continued in the warehouse. She had no idea who was winning or losing. Did it even matter now, at least as far as she was concerned?
“I … I am an officer of the American FBI. If you kill me they will execute you.”
She didn’t think that was true, but maybe it might help save her life.
“I knew you were coming sooner or later
