What. The. Fuck? Where were the drugs?

"Where are the drugs?" she mumbled incoherently, squinting into the gloom of a dimly lit room.

Movement to her left indicated another presence in the room. He stood, tall and predatory by her side, and swooped low over her bed. Brushing the hair off her forehead he asked in a deeply accented voice, "What was that, malysh?"

Vladimir Sitnikov.

What was he doing in her hospital room? Shouldn't a woman be allowed a ...