The silence of the hospital room completely shattered. The transition from calm to absolute danger occurred with the exact same speed at which a skater changes direction in a combination jump.
Zinov sprang to his feet in a single fluid motion, without the slightest hint of clumsiness. His emerald eyes flicked from Bek's confused face to the skate Jake was still examining next to the open duffel bag. Within a couple of seconds, the Russian processed the entire scene: Jake had sneaked into the room in the middle of the night and was inspecting the gear.
"What the hell are you doing here, Brown?" Zinov's voice was a muted lash—careful not to raise the volume enough to draw the nurses from the hallway, yet loaded with a lethal aggressiveness.
Jake let go of the black leather boot, letting it drop back into the duffel bag with a sharp thud. He rose slowly from the floor, feeling the adrenaline burning through his veins as he physically stepped between Zinov and Bek's hospital bed.
