There was an address: Sosnovskoye Highway, kilometer 115."
Anna was already dialing Dorokhov's number.
"Check the sanatorium at kilometer 115 of Sosnovskoye Highway. Possibly a former Soviet facility, now presumably owned by Berkut. Organize a tactical team. And request a search warrant for all properties connected to Berkut."
Rain poured down, turning the road into a slippery gray ribbon. Anna kept peering at the road signs through the wet windshield. Kilometer 112… 113… The turn to the old sanatorium should be somewhere around here.
Dorokhov sat beside her, reviewing documents.
"'Forest Glade' Sanatorium opened in 1978. Specialized in treating neuroses and psychosomatic disorders. Closed in 1996 due to lack of funding. In 2010, the property was sold to a private individual. Guess who?"
"Berkut," Anna answered, slowing down before a sharp turn.
"Almost. A company called 'New Path.' But its sole founder is Alexander Viktorovich Berkut. All documents in order, all permits obtained. Officially—a rehabilitation center for children and adolescents with mental trauma. But for the past five years, no activity. Electricity bills are paid, taxes are filed, but it's as if there are no patients."
"As if," Anna repeated. "Or they're simply not officially registered."
At the 115th kilometer, a sign appeared: "'Forest Glade' Sanatorium—2 km." Half-erased letters, a rusted arrow. Anna turned onto a narrow road leading into the forest.
"Is the tactical team in position?" she asked.
"Yes. Waiting for our signal. They've secured the perimeter but aren't moving in yet."
After two kilometers, they reached a high fence. Once-white concrete panels were now covered with moss and graffiti. The gates were locked with a massive padlock. To the left of the gates was a small door with an intercom.
"What's the plan?" Dorokhov looked at Anna. "The warrant will only be ready in an hour."
"No time to wait," she took out her pistol, checked the magazine. "Position the team. On my signal—move in."
Anna approached the small door and pressed the intercom button. Silence. She pressed it again. After a few seconds, a raspy voice answered:
"'Forest Glade' Sanatorium is closed to visitors."
"Police!" Anna said loudly. "Open up, we have questions."
Silence. Then the sound of a lock being opened. The door opened slightly.
Anna exchanged glances with Dorokhov, who was already coordinating the tactical team's actions over the radio. He nodded. She pushed the door and entered.
The sanatorium grounds looked neglected. The asphalt paths were cracked, with grass growing through them. The fountain in the center of the circular alley had long stopped working; rainwater had collected in its basin. In the distance stood a three-story building—the main building, once painted white but now gray.
Anna walked slowly along the alley, keeping her hand on her holster. Not a soul around. Only the sound of rain and rustling leaves.
A person stood at the entrance to the building. Tall, wearing a dark raincoat with a hood. When Anna came closer, he pushed back his hood, and she recognized Igor Sokolov.
"Detective Sviridova," he smiled slightly. "Doctor Berkut is expecting you."
"Where is Sophia Velichko?" Anna drew her pistol and aimed it at Sokolov.
"She's safe. Inside," he didn't look frightened or surprised. "Doctor Berkut knew you would find this place. He… foresaw your arrival."
"Hands behind your head. Slowly. And take me to Berkut."
Sokolov complied, smiling strangely.
"You don't understand, detective. This isn't just a meeting. It's… an invitation."
Dorokhov appeared behind Anna, weapon at the ready.
"The team is in position," he whispered. "Give the signal?"
She hesitated. If they started the raid, Sophia's life could be in danger. They needed to find her first, ensure her safety.
"No. I'll talk to Berkut first. Keep the team on standby."
Anna nodded to Sokolov:
"Lead the way."
Chapter 10: Labyrinth
Inside, the sanatorium building was not nearly as abandoned as it appeared from the outside. Dim lamps illuminated a long corridor with several doors on both sides. The air was dry and warm, with a slight scent of antiseptic—like in a hospital. Each step echoed hollowly.
"Where are we going?" asked Anna, keeping her pistol aimed at Sokolov's back.
"To Doctor Berkut's office. Third floor, west wing," he spoke calmly, as if conducting a tour. "A surprise awaits you there."
"What kind of surprise?"
"You'll see," Sokolov smiled slightly. "The doctor has prepared everything very carefully."
They climbed a wide marble staircase to the second floor. Here the corridor split in two—right and left. Sokolov turned right, toward another staircase.
"Why are you doing this?" asked Anna, trying to keep her voice steady. "Why all of this?"
Sokolov stopped but didn't turn around.
"You wouldn't understand. No one understands until they experience it firsthand," he spoke quietly, as if sharing something intimate. "What Doctor Berkut does isn't just an experiment. It's… human evolution. A chance to become something greater. To see beyond the ordinary."
"You kidnap and torture children," cold contempt sounded in Anna's voice. "Is that evolution?"
"You're mistaken, detective. We don't cause them pain. We… liberate them. It's like taking off a heavy backpack after a long day. Only the backpack is the limitations of one's own personality."
He moved forward again, continuing to speak:
"Doctor Berkut has found a way to go beyond individual consciousness. To touch something… greater. You can't even imagine what opens up there, beyond the boundary."
Anna caught strange notes in his voice—a mixture of religious ecstasy and fanaticism. It seemed Berkut was truly not just a leader to them, but something of a guru.
They climbed to the third floor. It was noticeably brighter here—modern lighting fixtures, fresh paint on the walls. Nothing resembled an abandoned sanatorium. Sokolov stopped in front of large double doors at the end of the corridor.
"The doctor is waiting for you inside," he stepped aside. "Alone."
"That's not happening," Anna gripped her pistol tighter. "Open it."
Sokolov shrugged and pushed the door. Behind it was a spacious office with panoramic windows overlooking the forest. Modern furniture, elegant design, paintings on the walls. And books—hundreds of books on shelves from floor to ceiling. Alexander Viktorovich Berkut sat behind a massive dark wood desk.
"Anna Vitalyevna," he smiled, rising to meet her. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation."
"Where is Sophia Velichko?" Anna aimed her pistol at him, not wasting time on pleasantries.
"Safe, I assure you," Berkut gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite his desk. "Why don't we talk first? There's so much I'd like to tell you."
"I'm not going to play your games," Anna remained standing in place. "Where is the girl?"
Dorokhov, who had quietly entered the office behind Anna, kept Sokolov at gunpoint.
"Maybe we should search the building?" he suggested. "The team is ready."
Berkut sighed with theatrical disappointment.
"How banal. I expected more understanding from you, Anna Vitalyevna. But if you insist…" he pressed a button on his desk. "Igor, escort Detective Sviridova to the laboratory. Show her our guest."
"Dorokhov,