So, here's a taster of what I've got so far. Enjoy!
The second man, Taras, had been a trusted Boevik in Luka’s brigade for years. But his loyalty was to Ivan first and foremost and so he, too, would have to die once Marya was safely in Luka’s hands.
The three of them sat in a small, warm pub, just two streets from the house where Marya was held. Pyotr and Taras drank local beer and talked about the grim weather. Luka drank water and said nothing. He’d never been one for alcohol, not since reading about the execution of the last Tsar of Russia and his family. The executioners had been so drunk beforehand, they’d botched the entire execution, leaving survivors to be bayonetted. The thought of it, the chaos and unnecessary suffering of that night, had stayed with Luka. He prided himself on always killing quickly and cleanly.
He knew it was a bad thing to be proud of. But he had so little else.
While his men talked, blithely unaware of their impending fate, Luka watched the snow fall outside and ran the plan through his head once again. Rolan’s intelligence said the girls would be moved at midnight, back into Russia. Europe’s boarders were in chaos with migrants surging across the continent, and slipping sex slaves from country to country was frighteningly easy in the midst of such disorder. If the traffickers made it out of Poland it would be near impossible to find them again.
So they had one shot to grab Marya.