I throw the axe to the ground and blow out a hard breath. I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and stand motionless, just breathing, until I know my voice will sound steady. Then I fish my cell from my pocket and dial the Lenin Hotel in Moscow. When a woman at the front desk picks up, I tell her to connect me to room number 427. Then I wait, heartbroken and sick to my stomach, for Spider to answer the phone.
