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Four weeks later . . .

Balakovo, Russia:

I screamed as the electricity powered and burned through my body, making my limbs spasm and my bones rattle. It lasted exactly six seconds, then the taser was pulled away from my stomach. I sagged.

"You are stubborn woman," A guy I had come to known as Boris drawled in a thick Russian accent. "Why do you not speak and your agony will be over?"

I breathed in through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. "Fuck. You."

The taser touched my skin again and I screamed, feeling that he had turned up the crank. The shockwaves coursed through my body until all my insides felt toasted, grilled. Then the electricity stopped.

"The bitch isn't speaking," Boris said to his buddy who I had also gotten a name on. Viktor. "Perhaps she is stupider than we originally thought."

"What did you expect? She's a woman. An American one."

There was a moment of hoarse chuckling while I tried to gain just a little strength. I was caput. Two weeks in this hell and all my energy reserves were spent.

'It's going to be a cakewalk, Wilkins. Get in, gun them down, get out. Simple.'

My ass.

The cold floor in the basement I was lying on started to chill my exposed body. They had stripped me from everything except my underwear, which they had graciously let me keep on. For the most parts.

"So we kill her too, like her friends," Boris voiced in Russian. They still hadn't discovered I understood them. "If she won't speak, then she is useless to us."

"Wait!" Viktor said, clearly holding Boris back with his arm. "She might not be willing to spread her country's secrets, but that doesn't mean she won't spread... other things."

"You want to fuck the broad? She's an American agent."

"I don't fucking care, I've been on this job for three months. She's the first bitch who's come in here. Have you seen the tits on her?"

Boris snorted loudly and then spat on the floor. "Fine, do whatever you want, she's dead anyway, but do me a favor and make her scream, yeah? This bitch just waisted two weeks of my life."

"I will do much more than just make her scream."

"Then go crazy, my brother."

~~~

Four weeks earlier . . .

"So you're saying there's no way to figure out what he downloaded?" I snapped, running my hands through my hair which I had been doing for the past hour. "None at all?"

"It's like I said, this virus is unlike anything I've ever seen before," Zac, our tech whiz, repeated while typing away on the super computer. He had been trying to salvage the damage done and pick up any trace that might lead us to a clue that could tell us what Vincenzo had stolen. "It's a whole new kind of virus, state of the art. Maybe even a skeleton key. Those Italians have upped their game. I can't even trace the USB's brand so that it could possibly tell us where they purchased it." He shook his head. "I'll tell you this though, they don't sell these kind of USB's in Walmart."

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