Not fifteen minutes after Andrei left, the door buzzed. Kenya spring-jumped to open it, follow the instructions. His chest was too painful to even think of ignoring them. He swallowed, fully conscious about what he was about to do. “Hey. So... we should head back, there's nothing else for us to do here.” Shit. His shaky voice completely betrayed his attempt at appearing calm.
Good thing Mr. Petrov was too much of a wreck to notice. He kept staring at the screen, as if it could somehow hold a clue on where his son was. “I've got to find him. And then snap that bastard's neck.”
Kenya swallowed. Threatening him was a stupid thing to do, but after the other day, he didn't thought Mr. Petrov could possibly keep his word. He dismissed the idea of calling him just for this. “Well, you won't find him here.”
Mr. Petrov gave a warning stare at the young officer. “So aren't you a goddamned cop? Why aren't you, like, searching for clues?”
Shit. Now what. Play it cool, he thought. Still, his eyes darted away from Mr. Petrov's graze. “Well, I... I don't have the equipment, like, to search for fingerprints, or, well, I guess tracking the video feed would be an idea, but we'd need the computer analysts to do that, and, well, I'm ... sure the Captain won't authorize it. Plus, man, we... we already know who he is.”
“I'm going to talk to that stupid Captain again. You coming?” Mr. Petrov's look left clear that he'd not accept a no for an answer.
Which was a good thing, since Kenya pretty much had to tag along, his burning chest reminded him. However, could going to the police be considered stupid? ... Well, the Captain seemed to be on Andrei's side, so... probably not.
They reached the Captain's office as he again was preparing to leave for the day. He sighed when the door burst open. Not that fool again. “Look, I told you...”
Mr. Petrov wasn't in a mood to listen to excuses. “I'll be quick. I've given that bastard what he wanted, yet he still won't tell me where my son is.”
“I told you I can't help you.”
“Listen to me!” Mr. Petrov howled. “We've been to a shack. There's a screen there, with a live video feed to where my son is. I demand...”
The Captain stopped him, his voice also rising. “Look, there's nothing I can do. And you can't storm into my office yelling at me what to do. Now...”
Mr. Petrov's voice turned ice-cold. “You want this to be all over the news tomorrow? I've seen the bastard.”
Kenya froze, his eyes glued to the floor. Going public was indeed a really stupid thing to do, he was sure of it. Shit. Now he'd have to call him. He felt lightheaded at the very thought. His chest throbbed with pain as his breath got faster. Shit. He leaned against the wall, trying to steady himself, but his stinging chest wouldn't let him.
The Captain noticed his reaction, but he had more pressing matters to attend. “Look, I won't try to stop you.” He said at Mr. Petrov. “But... honestly. That would be a big mistake to make.”
“Is that a goddamned threat?” Mr. Petrov roared again.
Shit. Well, guess it was time to make the call, the Captain thought. “No. Just friendly advice.”
