|36| Green plants

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My white dress shirt was rolled up to my elbows and a few of the first buttons were undone, revealing a few tattoos

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My white dress shirt was rolled up to my elbows and a few of the first buttons were undone, revealing a few tattoos. I eyed the pinboard with the many photos and newspaper clippings in front of me intently.

We were all together in Sergej's main computer room. He had brought us here about ten minutes ago and hadn't said anything since.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Anastasia pacing up and down the room. She had no patience.

She was wearing a simple dress that I found in the closet in the hospital room. Sergej must have been waiting for her for a long time. I helped her into the bathroom before we went here. Her hair didn't look so tangled now. She hissed at me when I tried to comb her curls. Chuckling, I walked out of the room afterwards and waited centuries before she was done.

Sergej was sitting in front of the computers, typing away excitedly on the keyboard. I don't know what he was doing, but he knew that Anastasia and we were coming here and he also knew what we were coming here for.

My gaze floated around the room for a moment and it landed on Raffaele. He was sitting on a chair, staring at the silent man observantly. I turned my head further so that my gaze fell on Iwan.

He was standing awkwardly next to the door. I don't blame him. The man without a tongue was a living legend around Russia. Power outages, hack attacks, and all sorts of technical attacks against the government fell to his account. I googled him on the flight to here. You can't escape him in the modern world.

That's apparently the point of why we're here.

I turned my head a little more and looked at Thomas. He was looking directly at Anastasia. His face expressionless and tense. His hands were clasped in front of his body. He nodded at her, his gaze asking formally, "Are you okay?"

My gaze darkened slightly.

Quite the bodyguard. She nodded at him, whereupon she turned to Sergej and watched what he was doing.

I gave Thomas a warning look, to which he gave me a slight nod. He swallowed hard before turning to the man in front of the computers as well.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, rapidly typing things that I could barely perceive. That was all he was doing. Anastasia told me that he hardly ever left the house. If anyone was an introvert, it was him. He hated people. In that sense, he hated everything.

He liked sweatsuits, computers, and Crocs. That was pretty much it.

I turned my body, and therefore my head, back to the pin board. It was stretched out across the entire wall. You could barely see the wooden base of the actual bulletin board, so covered in notes it was.

The pieces of paper had just about everything on them that you could imagine. Pages on which components were explained. English as well as Russian newspaper articles. I could even see a few French and German texts.

His SaviorOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora