Something hard surrounded my wrists and pulled tight. A second later, another one tightened around my ankles. Then a hard circle of metal pressed against my cheek through the bag. The barrel of a gun.
I stopped screaming.
The van’s suspension sunk as Luka’s muscled body landed next to mine. I heard him kicking and thrashing as they tried to secure him.
“Stop struggling,” said a voice in Russian. “Or we kill your little bitch.”
Luka went still.
And the van sped off.
I don’t know how long we drove for. My heart was hammering so fast that I thought I was having a heart attack. The bag over my face meant I couldn’t breathe properly and someone was still pushing a gun into my cheek.
Then I felt something against my hand. A big, strong finger rubbing against my thumb. Luka had stretched out his bound hands to meet mine. I grabbed his finger and clung to it with all my strength.
Minutes or hours later, I was hauled out and thrown to the floor. I cried out as my shoulder hit concrete. Luka landed with a grunt next to me.
I was pulled up to an awkward sitting position and the bag was pulled off my head.
Darkness. The person who’d pulled off the bag stepped back into the shadows and disappeared, leaving Luka and I alone. A lone light overhead cast a pool of light around us.
“Are you okay?” asked Luka.
I nodded breathlessly.
“No,” said a voice from the darkness. He spoke English, but with a strong Russian accent. “She’s not. Because she’s with you.”
From the echo, the room was vast. A warehouse, maybe. I searched the darkness for any sign of the man who’d spoken, but there was just blackness.
Then a single point of light exploded, glaringly bright. A match. A second later, a cigarette tip glowed orange.
He walked towards us out of the shadows. A short man in a cheap gray suit. I’d never seen him before, but his piggish eyes reminded me of his son’s.
“Hello, Arianna,” said Olaf Ralavich.
I twisted away from him, trying to get closer to Luka. He laughed and squatted down near our bound feet. I knew he was the equivalent of Vasiliy and must be about the same age. But time hadn’t been so kind to the head of the Ralavich family. Where Vasiliy had maintained his muscles, Olaf was flabby. And where Vasiliy radiated a kind of cold, calculated charm, Olaf was all swagger and brutish violence. A thug, not a criminal.
And he was staring right at me with those dark little deep-set eyes.
“So you’re the one who saved my son,” he said to me. His English surprised me—it was at least the equal of Vasiliy’s or Luka’s. But he spoke with a sneer I couldn’t imagine either of them using. Vasiliy might have hated me—maybe still did—but he’d never sounded like this. Olaf spoke as if I was a lower species, as if all women were.
He turned to Luka. “I heard you were letting some blyadischa order you around,” he said, glancing at me as he casually called me a whore. “But I didn’t believe it until now. What is it she’s got between her legs, Luka, that gives her such power? Shall we see?”
Luka kicked out viciously, but Olaf dodged it easily, laughing. My blood ran cold. We were all alone here, tied up and powerless. Easy targets for whatever Olaf and his men wanted to do to us.
Olaf walked around to our heads and squatted down again. “My son is still in the hospital. They may not be able to fix his face. Only the whores will want to fuck him, now.”
“He was chaining up women,” said Luka in a low growl. Even bound on the floor, he managed to exude menace. If he was scared, he didn’t show it. “Letting men pay to rape them. I should have killed him.”
“If you had,” said Olaf mildly, “I would have killed you already. But since you just made him suffer, I’ll just make you suffer. I’m going to teach you a lesson, Luka. About how you and your father can’t just steal our business.”
Shit! This wasn’t just about Luka beating Olaf’s son. This was about the gun deal. But how did they even know about that? I stared at Luka, terrified. Now they’d beat him, right in front of me.
Two men stepped out of the shadows and grabbed Luka’s shoulders, then hauled him up to his knees. He struggled, but they knelt behind him, their knees grinding painfully into the backs of his legs, pinning him there. Then they wound their fingers into his hair so that his head was held still.
Olaf pulled out a knife and my blood turned to ice water. But then he crouched down and cut the zip-tie that bound my ankles. I looked up at him in confusion and hope.
Olaf grinned. “She’s going to have to open her legs,” he explained.
I remember screaming—a single, long wail of horror that left my throat raw. Then I started shuffling away from him across the filthy concrete floor.
Someone behind me put their boot against my shoulder, stopping me from moving any further.
“Don’t you touch her!” screamed Luka. For the first time, there was fear in his eyes. He hadn’t cared what they did to him. But this...I knew this would tear him apart.
I tried to struggle to my feet, but my hands were still bound behind my back. Olaf grabbed the front of my dress and pulled it away from my body, as if he was going to lift me up by it. Then he slashed with the knife again, cutting it all the way down the front. My bra strap was sliced through and then I felt the cold of the knife against my groin and my panties were cut.
I writhed in disgust, trying to hide my nakedness from him, trying to turn over. He put his shoe on my bare shoulder and slammed me back down onto my back, then hunkered down over me. He stared into my eyes, but spoke to Luka.
“First,” he said, “I’m going to fuck her. Then my men will fuck her. Then we’re going to take her to one of our places—you know the sort, Luka. The ones that made you so angry. We’ll chain her up and let the suits play with her. They’ll like a nice American girl. We’ll get her some new dresses, so they can rip them off. Again and again.”
Luka thrashed and pulled at the men holding him, almost tearing his hair out by his roots. But they held him fast.
I stared up at Olaf. This wasn’t anything like the games I’d played with Luka. All I felt was sick, cold fear.
Olaf unfastened his belt. “Hold her down.”
The room suddenly burst into light and noise. It was as if dawn had broken in fast-forward, a slice of light sweeping across the floor until it filled the whole room. It was so bright, after the darkness, that I couldn’t see a thing. There was a rumbling like the end of the world and the roar of car engines. I twisted and tried to cover myself, screwing my eyes closed and pulling myself into a tight little ball on my side. For long seconds, all I could hear was gunfire. I prayed for death. That would be better than what they’d been going to do to me.
Running footsteps and shouting in Russian. Then a voice I recognized.
Yuri.
Something soft dropped over me. I opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was a man I didn’t recognize—one of Olaf’s men, I presumed—lying on the floor just a few feet away. He’d been shot through the head.
I turned away from him, trying not to throw up.
Yuri was standing behind Luka, cutting him free. The last time I’d seen the head bodyguard had been in the car, after the crash. “I thought you were dead,” I croaked.
Yuri grimaced. “Death would have been less painful,” he said. He was bleeding from a cut on his head and I saw that he was using only one arm, the other hanging at an odd angle. Somehow, though, he’d managed to pull off his suit jacket to lay over me.
Free at last, Luka got to his feet and ran to me, sweeping me up into his arms. I looked around, blinking in the sudden light.
We were in a warehouse, as I’d suspected. But now the huge door at one end was open, letting in daylight. Two black SUVs were parked just inside. The whole place was swarming with men in black combat fatigues. Vasiliy had sent an army.
I looked back to Yuri. “How did you…?”
>
Yuri snorted. “Idiots think I’m dead in car and don’t put bullet in my head. I wake up and you and Luka are gone.” He nodded at Luka. “I track his cell phone and call Vasiliy for backup.”
I looked up at him in wonder. I’d always thought of Yuri as just a big, dumb lunk. I was just realizing he was a superb bodyguard, something he hid behind his dour manner. Probably deliberately.
Yuri caught my look. “Is not—how you say it?—is not my first rodeo.”
Luka looked down at me and tenderly stroked my cheek. He didn’t ask if I was okay—I think he could see that I wasn’t. He just stared into my eyes, his own full of guilt and pain.
One of Vasiliy’s men staggered up to us. “Olaf got out the back.”
Yuri swore and kicked one of the dead bodies. Then he nodded us towards the SUVs. “We go. Before police arrive.”
Luka carried me towards one of the SUVs. I looked around at the devastation as we went. Six dead, two of them Vasiliy’s men. I started to shake in Luka’s arms.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay.”
I knew it wouldn’t be. I saw now just how brutal his world could be. Tomorrow, I’d escape it forever...and lose Luka forever. And with Olaf gunning for him like this, I knew it was only a matter of time until this world killed him.
“Those fucking fucking fucks!” yelled Vasiliy in Russian. “Who the fuck do they think they are?!”
The SUVs had taken us directly to his house—Vasiliy had insisted. There was an antique suit of armor at the top of the stairs and I watched as Vasiliy kicked it apart, sending metal clattering down the stairs. “Fucking fat little jumped up son of a whore thinks he can threaten us?!”
He spun to face me, his chest heaving with rage. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked in English.
I nodded. I was wearing a spare set of combat fatigues which Yuri had found for me. They were enormous and looked ridiculous, but at least they covered me and that made me feel better.
“No one,” spat Vasiliy, “messes with my family.” He said it in English and he met my eyes as he said it. There was regret there, beneath the anger. An apology for not trusting me, before. I was one of them, now, and the thought send an unexpected flood of warmth through me.
I’d never really been conscious of how much I missed having a family until that moment. And then I remembered how I was about to betray them, and I wanted to be sick.
“He won’t stop,” said Luka. “Not unless we abandon the gun deal.” His voice didn’t leave any shred of a possibility that that was going to happen. He was as stubborn and as proud as his dad.
Vasiliy started to curse again, talking about payback. Then he remembered me and sighed, shaking his head. “My apologies, Arianna. You do not need to hear this. The maids have prepared a room for you and Luka. Please.”
Being able to take a hot bath to wash Olaf’s touch off me sounded like the best thing in the world. But first, I gave Luka a long hug. “You’ll stay right here?” I asked. “You won’t go off on some stupid revenge attack?”
He touched his forehead to mine and let out a long sigh. “There will have to be retribution. But not tonight, myshka. I’ll be here.” He hugged me close and then took my face between his hands. “I never meant to let my life hurt you, Arianna. I’m sorry.”
I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes. He was sorry, and I was about to destroy him. I nodded quickly and turned away, trudging up the stairs to the next floor.
I knew that the next morning, just as I ran out on him, he’d be ready to go and attack Olaf and his gang, turning this into a full-on war between the families. Maybe, maybe he’d survive the next few days...just long enough for the authorities to arrest him. I actually started to wish that I could betray him sooner. At least in prison, he’d be safe.
Or would he? I knew that the gangs controlled the prisons. Did the Malakovs have the right influence in the right places? Was it better that Luka was shot in a gang war or stabbed to death in a prison yard?
I sighed and shut myself in the bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was luxuriously appointed. There was a bathroom with a huge corner tub and I immediately ran a deep, hot bath. I stripped off my clothes and climbed in, letting the heat soak into me. It made me feel cleaner on the outside...but it didn’t do anything to lift the deep, dark stain that was spreading through my insides.
I was lying almost completely submerged when a noise from the bedroom startled me. My cell phone ringing. It was in my purse, which had been with me in the car when Olaf had attacked us. Now the purse was on the bed—Yuri must have salvaged it from the wreckage.
I jumped out of the tub, naked and dripping. For Adam to be calling, something must be wrong. Maybe he couldn’t extract me tomorrow. I grabbed the phone and was holding it in my hand, about to answer, when a thought echoed in my head. Something that had been swimming around and around ever since the warehouse. How did Olaf know where to ambush us?
My phone had been with me in the car. And Adam had told me to make sure I kept it switched on.
He’d tracked me and guided Olaf right to us.
I fell to my knees in defeat as I answered the call.
“Hello, Arianna,” said Adam.
“You’re working with Olaf Ralavich,” I whispered.
I sat there naked, the water drying on my body, as the pieces dropped into place. Vasiliy and his dad had both talked about the “corrupt CIA” who controlled the guns and drugs. It had never occurred to me that it might actually be true.
Adam knew Russia. He’d worked in Moscow for years. When he moved up to head of the Special Activities Division at Langley, he was in the perfect position to help his Russian friends get their guns into the US. Hell, he might have even sought the position for that exact reason. He’d probably been squirreling millions away in Swiss accounts, a cut of every gun deal the Ralavichs had done.
Until he’d heard that the Malakovs were trying to muscle in, of course. Then he’d panicked. He’d needed someone to get information on the deal. Someone utterly disposable, someone too naive and eager to please to question why Malakov was such a high priority.
I’d been a pawn, right from the start. Roberta, Nancy...they’d tried to warn me something was wrong and I’d ignored them.
“You don’t want Luka arrested,” I said. “You never did. You want him dead.”
Adam made a scoffing noise. “I don’t give a shit about Luka. Vasiliy still controls the deals. Without his face and name, the buyers will come running back to Olaf.” He sighed. “Fucking Olaf. I told him trying to scare Vasiliy off wouldn’t work. So we’ll just have to move to plan B.”
“You’re going to kill him,” I whispered in disbelief. “You’re going to kill Vasiliy.”
“No,” said Adam. “You are.”
“After this call,” said Adam, “you’ll take the back off the cell phone and remove the battery. There’s a capsule filled with liquid. You’re going to dump that into Vasiliy’s drink.”
“Poison.”
“A drug. He’ll have a heart attack a few hours later.”
“Never. Jesus, you must know that. You know I won’t do it.”
“Oh, but you haven’t heard the best part,” said Adam. I could hear the victorious smile in his voice. “You haven’t heard what I’ll give you in return.”
“I don’t want it!” I almost shouted it. “Whatever it is, I don’t want it!”
He paused for effect. “You get Luka.”
There was silence for a moment.
“I only want Vasiliy,” said Adam. “Luka walks. And with the gun deal in pieces, I’m sure someone as...persuasive as you can tempt him away from crime. You can have a life together.”
I sat there stunned. It was everything I wanted. Luka and I could jet off into the sunset. He’d never need to know I was CIA. I could be with him.
If I killed his father.
I shook my head, ashamed that I’d considered it even for a split second. “Go fuck yoursel
f,” I hissed.
Adam sighed. “Then you leave me no choice. I’ll have both Vasiliy and Luka taken out.”
“You—-You said you didn’t care about Luka!”
“I wanted to do it clean and quiet, with no questions from the authorities. A heart attack does that. But if you’re going to force me to openly kill Vasiliy, I might as well take his son, too. Wouldn’t want him coming after me for revenge. And you know I have the resources to do it. I just wanted to exhaust every other avenue first.”
“Please!” I begged.
“Don’t be pathetic, Arianna. Make a choice. We both know which one you’re going to choose.”
I slumped against the wall, my brain racing, searching for a way out and finding none. The thought of killing Vasiliy made me sick. But the idea of losing Luka as well….
My silence was all the answer he needed.
“Good girl,” said Adam. “I’m proud of you, Arianna. I always knew you had potential.”
I wanted to hurl the phone across the room, but I couldn’t because I couldn’t risk damaging the capsule. I wanted to howl in anger but I couldn’t risk Luka hearing. So, as Adam ended the call, all I could do was thump my fists uselessly on the bed. And then slump to the floor, the shame of my own stupidity coming out as hot, painful tears.
By the time I’d cleaned myself up, it was nearly time to do it. I couldn’t risk Vasiliy going to bed. If he was still alive in the morning and Adam got wind of it, he’d think I’d double crossed him and kill Vasiliy and Luka as well.
A brand new dress and underwear had been discreetly hung on the doorknob of the bedroom while I’d been bathing—Luka must have sent one of the maids out to buy them. With them on and the necklace Luka bought me around my neck, I felt a little more human.
For a second. Until I remembered what I was about to do.
Yuri was at the foot of the stairs, cleaning one of his many guns. His arm was in a sling. He looked up at me. “Okay?” he asked gruffly.
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