Chapter 85: Obran, Felecia

Tuesday. St. Petersburg, Russia.

OBRAN PACED THE HOTEL room, phone pressed to his ear. He'd expected to have news of his daughter's swift return by now. Instead it was radio silence.

Where the hell was she?

He had many enemies. It came with this line of work. The kind of people he helped make vanish didn't like anyone knowing their secrets regardless of the fact that Obran had helped them in the first place. To his clients, he would always be a loose string they could do nothing about.

The phone kept ringing.

But to become the target of an American investigation?

He'd never seen that coming, and that worried him.

If Skilman hadn't insisted on using the Horsemen, Obran would have steered clear of them. He'd worked on few enough Americans that bringing those four men in seemed like a bad idea. Wasn't it obvious to Skilman? Using Americans against Americans?

The phone went to voicemail. He hung up and dialed again.