Codename Romeo: Rogues and Rescuers Book One

by Leroux, Lucy

  He didn’t close the privacy curtain. Like Ethan, he faced the glass wall and open door that separated the recovery room from the hallway. The busy nurses’ station was at the far end of the hall, but there was a fair amount of traffic outside. They kept their eyes on the passersby, automatically assessing each for threats as they talked.

  “The surgery went well. Barring any unforeseen complications, Viktor should make a full recovery. One of the girls who was injured is in critical condition. I don’t know what happened to the other one—the one who’s not in the morgue.”

  “I’ll call Rivera. Maybe she was taken to another hospital.” He glanced at Viktor. “I’m sorry. I know you were hoping we could pull this off without any of those girls getting hurt.”

  “That was a long shot either way.”

  Jason winced. “What now?”

  Ethan put his hands in his pockets. “You head on home. I’m going to stay here for a bit.”

  “No, I’ll hang here,” Jason offered. “You should get back to Juliet and the baby. They’ve got to be wondering where you are.”

  “It’s fine. I’m texting her about the delay,” Ethan said, taking out his phone. “And I’ll only stay long enough to get a plainclothes PD out here to guard the door.”

  “Hmm. All right then. Why don’t I make a few calls and get the ball rolling on that?”

  “Thanks, man.” Ethan sat in the only chair, settling down for what he hoped would be a short wait. After a few minutes, Jason came back in to inform him the protection detail would be along soon. Then, he left.

  Ethan messaged Juliet to tell her he’d be at Donovan’s soon. She replied with something short and sweet that made him want to leave immediately.

  She must be exhausted after watching Luna all day. Even on days when they both were available to watch her, they still went to bed drained.

  Well, the toddler wasn’t entirely responsible for them falling into bed fatigued and well…sated. A memory flashed through his mind of this morning. He would have been to work on time, but he had lingered in bed after waking up to watch her sleep.

  You are pathetic. Despite the situation, a smile teased his lips.

  Stop distracting yourself. He had to make some plans. He didn’t want Juliet to feel like she had to stay at home all day with the baby, having totally given up on her dreams and goals. She needed to go back to school, to figure out what she wanted to do in life.

  Juliet would need time for that. Putting Luna back into her old daycare wasn’t an option, but they could find a new one in Beacon Hill, even if he had to take out another loan to do it. In the short time he’d had the pair living with him, he’d learned the price of decent childcare was fucking insane.

  He checked his watch, wondering where his relief guard was. Knowing the attitude of those nurses, they might have redirected his cop elsewhere. Ethan decided to run out for a minute to check.

  Outside, the nurses’ station was incredibly quiet. The only one there hadn’t seen anyone who didn’t work at the hospital for over an hour. Resigned, he returned to Viktor’s room.

  He paused at the threshold. The opaque white curtain had been drawn around the bed. A faint gurgle alerted him there was trouble.

  Ethan’s gun was in his hand before he could blink. He yanked the curtain, weapon raised, then almost dropped it.

  A strange tattooed man was looming over the bed. The tats on his arms identified him as part of the Komarov crew, and he’d been sent to kill. But he hadn’t counted on Viktor.

  The giant was still half-unconscious. His eyelids were barely cracked, yet he had his big meaty hand wrapped around the slighter man’s neck. Despite having been shot, he was somehow managing to strangle the life out of his would-be attacker.

  Groaning, Ethan stalked up behind the attacker. “All right, enough,” he hissed at Viktor.

  He wasn’t even sure the man could hear, but Viktor lolled his head in Ethan’s direction. The bleary-eyed glance was comprehending, but he didn’t let go. The man being strangled wheezed raggedly, his eyes red and bugging out of his head.

  “Damn it.” Ethan tried to yank Viktor’s hand away, trying to get him to let go, but it was as if the oversized hand were a steel vice. “Let go!”

  “No.”

  Frustrated, Ethan took out his gun and hit the hapless assailant. The guy stopped gurgling and slumped, passed out.

  “Okay, now you can let go.”

  Viktor gave him a drugged yet baleful glare, but he opened his hand. The other guy fell to the ground.

  Fuck. “Did your people find out you were helping us?”

  “I don’t think so. This is unrelated.” The words were slow and hoarse.

  Ethan was skeptical. “Are you sure?”

  Viktor tried to shrug, but winced.

  Ethan tsked. “I guess it takes a hell of a lot of anesthesia to keep you under. The nurse said you weren’t due to come out for hours.”

  In fact, it was lucky there had been enough of the right drugs on hand to do the surgery at all. Viktor could have woken up in the middle of it.

  “There…will be more.”

  Ethan sighed. “If this isn’t about you helping us, then why did everything go down at that brothel?”

  “I showed an interest. But I don’t think they know about the plan. Internal. Coup.”

  Each halting word was dragged out of him as if they had come from the depths of his soul.

  “Huh.” It shouldn’t have surprised Ethan, but the gang unit had told them the Komarovs were stable. There hadn’t been any changes in the upper echelons of the group for years. I guess someone thought they were overdue.

  “They killed her.”

  Ethan blinked. “Who? Not your cleaning girl?”

  “No, the other one. The one who went back to the brothel.”

  The girl he had been trying to save with that raid. “Shit. Sorry.”

  Viktor flicked his fingers in acknowledgment.

  Footsteps sounded. Ethan glanced up, but the nurse rushed by without bothering to turn their way.

  “You’re not wrong. More will come. Many more.”

  Fuck. This was just what Ethan needed right now.

  “I need to get you out of here.”

  Viktor didn’t answer—he acted, tearing out the IV taped to his wrist. He didn’t even flinch.

  “I guess you’re on board with that plan.”

  The Russian rolled his eyes. Ethan hurried over to help him sit up.

  “Wait here. I’m going to find a wheelchair.”

  Ethan hurried out the door, wondering how the hell he was going to get the Russian version of the Jolly Green Giant out of the hospital without anyone noticing.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Although he found several, Ethan didn’t choose a wheelchair. Viktor was incapable of blending in. Even sitting, the Russian was tall enough to make people turn and stare.

  Ethan ground his teeth, wondering what the hell to do when he was forced to step to the side as an orderly with a gurney holding an elderly man wheeled past him down the hall.

  Where do I get one of those?

  Ethan pivoted, following the orderly. The man disappeared into a room halfway down the hall. He loitered in front of the vending machines as the attendant wrapped up, talking to the patient in a reassuring tone. Ethan couldn’t make out the words, but it must have been something about getting tests because he pointed to the bed and left it there before leaving.

  A plan formed in his mind, but pulling it off was a lot more difficult than the TV shows and movies made it appear.

  Ethan tried to find a lab coat to cover his clothes, but he failed. Next, he tried to secure a pair of scrubs, but there wasn’t a stack of neatly folded ones conveniently at hand.

  Eventually, Ethan found a pair of extra-large scrubs in a hamper. They weren’t clean, but they didn’t have obvious bloodstains. Reluctantly, he pulled them on in the bathroom. Remind me to scour with a Brillo pad when I get home.

 
Grinning in what he hoped was a friendly manner, Ethan went back to the old guy’s room. He’d hoped the patient would have dropped off in the interim, but luck was not on his side. The old guy was wide awake and watching Jeopardy.

  “Excuse me, I need to borrow this.”

  Ethan grabbed the gurney, rushing out the door while expecting the man to protest. Instead, the old coot waved him on. “Fine with me. I’m not in a hurry for that colonoscopy anyway.”

  Stifling an unexpected laugh, Ethan went back to Viktor’s room. The Russian approved of the plan, at least until he heard the rest of it. “We’re going out through where?”

  “The morgue has a separate entrance,” Ethan said, helping Viktor climb on the gurney.

  Then he grabbed the bedsheet and threw it over Viktor’s face. “Just try not to exhale enough to move the cloth. Someone might notice if the corpse is still breathing.”

  * * *

  Viktor’s head spun, but he forced his eyes open anyway. He was in a large four-poster bed. He squinted at the fancy lamp on the bedside table next to him. There was an equally expensive-looking armoire under an antique mirror on the wall.

  Gavno. Panic rushed through him as he took in the sumptuous furnishings. Was he at the Komarov’s house?

  Two men argued in the hallway. “I can’t believe you brought him here, Ethan,” an unfamiliar voice said.

  Viktor relaxed, collapsing on the down pillow. If the FBI agent was here, then there was no way in hell he was at his father’s house.

  Ethan said something, but the stranger interrupted. “You were the one who was hell-bent on keeping the girls hidden, then you bring him here? You should have taken him to the hotel. We have protocols for this sort of thing.”

  “If you mean the gold stars, you know those rooms are for women and children on the run, not seven-feet-tall Russian gangsters,” Ethan argued. “Besides, this place was closer and he was bleeding again. Donovan stores a lot of medicinal equipment here. Even some drugs because he buys them out of pocket and ships them overseas for his practice in Africa.”

  “You know you’re going to have to move them now, right?”

  Ethan’s voice was resigned. “Yeah, I know.”

  The other man said something else, but Viktor didn’t catch it. He sniffed. He didn’t know what the man meant by moving, but his full height in socks was six foot five. People always exaggerated when it came to how tall he was.

  A vague memory came back. He’d gotten dizzy in the SUV last night. The bandage around his abdomen had started seeping, bleeding through until the waistband on his jeans had been soaked.

  He’d been awake long enough to climb out of the car in a narrow two-space garage and up some stairs. He didn’t remember anything about this house, but he could have sworn he saw a dark-haired woman hovering over him at one point.

  And if the pair in the hall were talking about hotels, then the other man must be Jason White, Ethan’s partner at the FBI. Viktor knew all about Jason and his hotel heiress wife due to their connection to the MacLachlans, the city’s other big crime family.

  He closed his eyes, his head pounding. Viktor let the men’s argument wash over him. It grew quieter after a minute. He must have slept, but his eyes flew open when he felt a presence.

  Viktor started. A small human stood on the bed next to him, staring down as if it were trying to decide what he was. It was wearing a pink shirt that said, ‘Future FBI Agent’.

  Oh. White hadn’t slipped when he’d said girls, plural. There were at least two females here, and one came in miniature.

  The little girl gave him a thorough inspection. A tiny finger went up, and she pointed it at him. “Play,” she said. She waved a small toy bear in his face. It was also wearing an FBI T-shirt.

  “Um…”

  “Play.” This time, it was an order.

  This one could run a crew someday. Viktor shrugged. “Okay,” he agreed.

  Playing meant getting the toy repeatedly shoved into his face. Uncertain what to do, Viktor made growling noises, trying to sound like a bear.

  That amused the child to no end. Her little chortles brought someone running.

  Viktor’s eyes widened as he got a clear view of the woman who came in. All he remembered from last night was a cloud of dark hair. In the light of day, the stranger was young and gorgeous. Her features were model perfect with skin that glowed like those Brazilian models in lingerie ads.

  “Hi,” the woman uncertainly said. She scooped the little girl off the bed, scolding her gently. “Don’t bother the nice man.”

  Viktor’s lip quirked. No one in their right mind had ever described him as nice. But this girl hadn’t even hesitated when she said that. However, she did hurry out the door.

  “How do you know I’m nice?” he asked, making her stop. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot, but that’s not something I hear a lot.”

  “Ethan wouldn’t have brought you here if you weren’t,” she replied. Her tone was almost convincing. She turned to leave again.

  “Is this an FBI safe house?” he asked.

  She hesitated, clearly wondering how much to tell him. “No. It belongs to Ethan’s friend. We’re staying here temporarily.”

  Because you’re hiding, too, he thought, putting together the pieces from the snippets of conversation he’d overheard. Interesting—and fucked up. He shouldn’t be here.

  Viktor had other places to be and quite a few men to kill. The one who shot him for starters…

  Ethan Thomas appeared in the threshold. He leaned in to whisper something in the woman’s ear. She nodded in response, telling him quietly she would be packed up and ready after the child napped.

  Viktor spent a lot of time in the background in the course of his work. His main job was to stand behind his superiors during meetings of the higher-ups, being large and intimidating. Despite that, most people treated him like furniture. But Viktor paid attention. He was observant, and he could read body language like it was his mother tongue.

  These two were sleeping together. Viktor let his lids drift down, but he was still watching as Ethan’s hand wrapped around the back of the woman’s neck in a proprietary fashion. He didn’t kiss her, but he didn’t have to. The possessive gesture was mirrored by the heat in his eyes. A flare of jealousy sparked across Viktor’s system, but he squashed it.

  The FBI agent was in love with his damsel in distress.

  For a moment, his mind wandered to Sacha, the girl his superiors had given him, but he ruthlessly cut the thought off. Viktor couldn’t afford an investment like that. He had business to take care of first.

  The girl disappeared with the little one and Ethan came inside, greeting him shortly.

  “Any more trouble at the hospital?” he asked, wondering how many more men his enemies would send after him.

  “The guy you almost choked to death was gone by the time the uniforms got there. No one else showed up.” He checked Viktor’s bandage with a critical eye. “My partner and I have been on the phone. We found a place where you can recuperate. We’re going to move you in a couple of hours, once we get a doctor over here to check you out.”

  Viktor knew without being told this one would be a real FBI safe house with more agents. There would be an offer of witness protection in exchange for testimony he couldn’t give.

  Feigning exhaustion, he thanked the agent and pretended to fall asleep. Once he was alone, he sat up, carefully testing his body before getting out of bed.

  Viktor found formal stationery in the desk by the window. He grabbed a pen, then scrawled a message on the thick paper.

  You don’t have to move your women. No one will learn their location from me.

  Viktor hesitated, debating adding a promise to get in touch. In the end, he decided not to.

  From here on out, there would be no help from the FBI. Not that he needed it. Because this time around, Viktor wouldn’t be trying to save anyone.

  Chapter Thirty

  Ethan forced his
face to impassivity as his boss tore him a new one. Viktor had bolted from Donovan’s Beacon Hill house yesterday morning after they spoke, leaving a short note behind. Now Ethan was being reprimanded for acting on his own and for failing to secure Viktor in a sanctioned FBI safe house right away. Jason, too, although the decision hadn’t been his.

  According to the gang unit, the Komarov family was in a full-fledged civil war. It had erupted a few days ago out of nowhere.

  In retrospect, Ethan should have expected the disappearing act. Viktor’s singular reason for coming to him and the FBI had been to help the women forced into prostitution by the family he served. But now Viktor had been shot by someone in that crew.

  Ethan knew what that meant. The big Russian was an eye-for-an-eye kind of man. And even though he appeared to be a loner, the man might have relationships and ties Ethan didn’t know about. If blood was going to flow, Viktor was the type to wade back in and make sure the right people were doing the bleeding.

  “Another thing, where the hell did you take him?” Robert Angel snapped, interrupting his own lecture to switch over to interrogation mode.

  “A secure undisclosed location,” Ethan hedged.

  “He needed a place where he could swiftly be administered medical attention,” Jason interrupted, backing Ethan up despite having argued against taking Viktor to Donovan’s. “The Russian’s wound was bleeding again, and Ethan had his hands full treating him. It was a triage situation.”

  “That’s not what triage means,” Ethan corrected. “But I did have to make a quick call. I was getting everything in motion to transfer Viktor to FBI custody when he walked out on his own steam—something any surgeon would say was impossible given the nature of the wound. But he somehow managed.”

  Ethan may have been exaggerating, but only because Viktor was a beast. The man had shaken off the anesthesia in record time, and he had been on his feet hours after a gunshot wound. Ethan predicated his recovery would be remarkable, which didn’t bode well for the guy who had put a hole in him.