Cellophane wrapped bundles are stacked inside. Each one has a sticker with an embellished letter “V” on it. “Vacation. Visitor. Various,” Alexei mutters, pulling the packages out and stacking them in our duffel bags. He turns to me, his silver tooth gleaming. “I’m practicing my English before I take it out on them.” His thumb jerks over his shoulder at the two bound and gagged men kneeling on the concrete.
