The car sped through the streets of Moscow, its tires making a crunching sound over the cold slippery road. Dmitri clutched the steering wheel of the car, his knuckles white as he sped through the winding streets of Moscow. Yelena sat in the backseat of the car, holding Fiona close to her, speaking softly to her in Russian. Ivan sat in the passenger seat of the car, looking anxious, glancing occasionally at the rearview mirror.
Unbeknownst to them, a black SUV followed at a discreet distance, its headlights turned off. Inside the vehicle, two of Natasha's men watched the family's car closely, ensuring they stayed on course. Natasha had planned every detail, from the funeral to the hospital visit, and her men were there to ensure everything went smoothly.
"Они направляются в больницу, как и ожидалось," one of the men said, his voice calm but alert. (They're heading to the hospital, as expected.)
