Misha didn't know how long he'd been here, but he could make an educated guess - not long enough for anybody to miss them. He hadn't seen David. Hadn't eaten much or slept much. He was saving up a big hate for whoever was running this operation, and he was going to kill whoever put a hand on his brother.
Pacing did nothing but use up energy. He spent the time keeping limber and ready for the next fight, and trying to figure out who snatched them. It wasn't Red Room. And hating. Did he mention hating?
Tessa's appearance in front of the plexiglass immediate put him on edge. She couldn't hear him through the soundproofing, but he was inviting her to leave and commit a sexual act on herself. In Russian, no less.
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