[Ethan's POV]
The freight train tore through the Carpathian Mountains like a rusted iron bullet, its steel wheels screaming against the tracks.
Claire and I were huddled in the freezing darkness of a cargo car, surrounded by wooden crates of untaxed machine parts. The wind howled through the gaps in the sliding doors, carrying the bitter chill of the Ukrainian winter. We were two hours away from the Hungarian border. From there, it was a straight shot to Vienna.
I was sitting on a crate, meticulously stripping and cleaning my Glock in the dim light of Claire's penlight.
"You've checked that magazine three times," Claire said, her voice vibrating with the motion of the train. She was wrapped in a thick wool blanket, her breath pluming in the air.
"Volkov's men were sloppy," I said, snapping the slide back into place. "Isabella won't make that mistake again. If she knows Jake is heading to Vienna, she's going to send her best."
