Beneath the Surface

by Amy McKinley

  Jack released her hand to spread his palm over the small of her back as she stepped alongside him. The slight touch let her know which direction to go, and the world narrowed in anticipation.

  They rounded a corner, avoiding being bumped by the crush of people in the early-morning hour. Pigeons shared the sidewalk, making navigation even trickier. A flash of short blond hair caught her attention, and she increased her pace.

  Jack shifted her to his left side, freeing his right hand. He maneuvered her so he would pass Sergei instead of her. “Duck your head.”

  Gritting her teeth, she did so, peeking through her lashes to see if Sergei noticed her. The message from Jack was clear: the next few seconds would be his to mold. Fine. If he didn’t do something, she would handle Sergei herself.

  They were a few steps from Sergei. Jack lengthened his stride, and she matched his. The warmth of his hand left the small of her back. As they were parallel to Sergei, Jack crowded him, checking him with his shoulder. He herded him into an alleyway between shops. Game on.

  Turning on a heel, she followed as Jack subdued the irate Russian spy. The tear of fabric was loud in the narrow passage. She peered around Jack. Sergei’s shirt was torn, and she saw a crescent-shaped scar above his heart. She recognized the scar. It slayed her still as the memory of her sister filled her mind. He had the list.

  Rage bubbled inside her. Starting in the pit of her stomach, it spread outward, and her body tensed to fight—to inflict maximum damage.

  Jack shoved Sergei back, and they continued to exchange blows. The dull thud of knuckles striking flesh both soothed her and fueled her to deliver a few of her own.

  Sergei hit the side of the brick wall with a grunt, and she double-checked the entryway to the alley. No one paid attention.

  When she looked back, they were on the ground. She took a step forward. Sergei had his arm wrapped around Jack’s neck in a chokehold. Jack rolled, and Sergei was a monkey on his back as Jack arched, got his feet under himself, and pushed them up. Using the hold Sergei had on him, he contracted his abs and lifted off the ground. Then he curled up and lifted his knee, smashing into Sergei’s face. With Sergei’s grip loosened, Jack separated from the other man then cracked his elbow into Sergei’s nose. Once free, he rounded on him, raining punches on his head and body.

  Sergei delivered a roundhouse kick, and Jack slammed against the wall. Hannah clenched her teeth. This will go on forever. They weren’t paying her any attention.

  Sergei advanced, but so did she. With a hand like a knife, she karate chopped Sergei in the neck, directly in his Adam’s apple. He choked, staggering backward. She squatted and swept her other leg, taking his out from under him. As he crashed to the ground, his head cracked against the pavement with a dull thud.

  “Are you going to tie him up or something?” If she touched Sergei again, she was liable to give in to her urge to kill him. She turned to Jack after a quick perusal of Sergei’s face. Blood leaked from his nose, and his right eye was swollen closed.

  “You’re full of surprises.” Jack grinned.

  Sergei’s good eye flared when Jack shifted, and she saw that he got a good view of her. He staggered to his feet. Jack closed the distance between them. Sergei’s foot slapped down as he widened his stance, ready for Jack’s next assault. With a half turn, he attempted to go around Jack to get to her.

  “Let him.” She tapped Jack on the shoulder, and he chuckled when she increased the pressure. He stepped to the side, still within arm’s reach, probably to jump in if he thought she couldn’t handle it. She could.

  All she saw when she looked at her Russian comrade was blood in the snow and her sister’s fight to give her a message before her last breath.

  Rage unlike any she’d felt before consumed her. He’s too confident, mockingly so. She wouldn’t be surprised if the asshole had something to do with Elsa’s death. She launched herself at him. In a series of calculated hits, despite her rage, she knocked him down. Following him to the ground, she pounced. Her knee rammed into his balls. No amount of training could silence his reaction to that pain. His mouth opened in a high-pitched scream. Grasping his hair, she lifted his head then slammed it against the pavement. The cry abruptly ended.

  His partially closed eyes locked on hers, and a laugh bubbled past his bloody lips. “Figured it out, did you?” he wheezed.

  “You and my sister.” Through a haze of red, she forced the words out, not letting any others past her taut lips. The ice trickled back into her veins. She had to calm down. He needed to fill a few things in.

  Sergei’s gaze skimmed over her hair. “It’s a shame about your hair. You resembled Elsa so much when I saw you on the plane.” He smirked. “You’re different. Refreshing. She was weak but served a purpose.”

  Enough. “Where is the weapon? The list?”

  He laughed again. “There is nothing you can do to me. We are cut from the same stone, Hannah.”

  Jack growled at Sergei’s words.

  “No. That we are not.” She shoved aside her need for revenge on the organization and instead hardened herself to extract information. “You have plenty to lose. Your precious list is the least of your concerns. Your usefulness to the organization and to Russia is what you should be worried about.”

  He spat, and it hit her in the cheek. Jack retaliated and brought his booted foot down on one of Sergei’s kneecaps, crushing it.

  Hannah tsked as she wiped at the wetness on her cheek. “There goes your leg. The recovery time for a shattered kneecap is what… Eight weeks at minimum? You won’t be needed when they use the weapon, especially since you won’t be able to bear weight on this leg. You’re useless. Speaking of the weapon, where is it?” She pursed her lips. “Maybe we can compromise and spare your career.”

  “Never. Did you learn nothing from your time back home?”

  A slow smile spread across her face, one she hoped broadcast her dark intent. “How much good will that list do you once you are no longer useful to them?”

  “I’ll never give it up, no matter what you do to me!”

  “Oh, I think you will.” Movement caused her to look up. A man stood at the entrance to the alley, leaning against the brick wall and blocking them from passersby. Another man stopped and did the same.

  She glanced at Jack and relaxed at his unconcerned attitude. Must be more men from his team.

  Sergei sneered. “You’ll be too late. We will take back what was ours and restore things to how they were—how they should have remained.”

  She moved her knee and lodged it into his solar plexus, adding more weight. “They’ll have no use for you once we’re done with you. Tell me where the weapon and list are, and I may spare you enough that you’ll recover. Slowly and painfully, but a recovery all the same.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Not the right answer.” She grabbed his right hand. She bent his finger straight back, holding it and pressing down for maximum pain. “It’s not in your hotel room.” When he didn’t respond, she worked her way through each one on that hand, breaking them all. He breathed through the pain. “Nor is it in your possession. So where is it?”

  His laughter was strained. “You’ll never find it.”

  “I’ve got plenty of time, Sergei. And you have plenty to lose: your hearing, eyesight, the ability to walk, even the use of your arms. We both know what will happen to you when they find you. Permanent retirement.”

  The zeal she’d witnessed in his demeanor shifted and morphed into malice. There he is. The change that came over his features encouraged her, and she held her breath. He’ll give me something to go on.

  The moment he realized she wasn’t going to kill him, his gaze turned flat. “You’ll never find it. But I will tell you one thing. You’ll never expect who it was that ordered your family’s death. My promotion was based on an order to kill your weak, useless sister.”

  Her body jerked, and a scream built in her gut and clawed for release, but she held it in. He will
die. She lurched forward with the intent to end his life, her knife suddenly in her hand. In a downward arc, she aimed for his heart. Suddenly, a viselike grip clamped on her wrist. She growled in pure frustration.

  “Not yet.” Jack grunted. His boot connected with Sergei’s jaw. Out cold, Sergei couldn’t speak. Jack wrapped his arms around Hannah and pulled her from Sergei’s body. “You can’t kill him.” Her body trembled with the need to inflict damage. She stumbled against Jack’s strong hold, but he turned her into his embrace.

  Dammit. He’s right. We still need this bastard, for now. She dropped her head to Jack’s chest and let him comfort her, feeling something she hadn’t truly had since her sister’s death: acceptance.

  Fabric rustled. The other men were going through Sergei’s pockets. She rested her cheek against Jack’s chest, his arms still wrapped around her like a vise. Tears of anger and pain threatened, but she refused to let them fall. It wasn’t the time. She placed her hand flat against his abdomen and gave a little shove.

  As his arms loosened, he bent to her ear. “They’ll take him in. We know enough for now.” He squeezed her arms before releasing her fully. “We need him alive in case we can’t locate the weapon or the list.”

  Jack was right, but she wanted so badly to end Sergei’s life in the most painful way possible. Vengeance. The two men who were rifling through his pockets pulled out a keycard. They handed it to Jack, but not the cell phone. It was quickly dismantled and placed in an aluminum bag that was produced from one of the men’s pockets.

  The one closest to her lifted his bottled water, and she held her bloodied hands out in front as he ran the water over them. Red splashes turned pink before they left her skin completely. Jack was next, with a cloth pressed against a bloody and swollen cut. He’d fared much better than Sergei in the fight. Admiration for him pushed past the dullness of her emotions.

  “We’ve got this,” one of the men said. She didn’t care enough to pay them too much attention. Her mind whirled with what needed to be done, what she hadn’t been able to finish, what she’d learned about her sister, and who needed to die.

  Jack unwrapped his sandwich and took a large bite. They needed to replenish their energy. Despite Hannah’s churning stomach, she peeled back the wrapper of her BLT and took a small bite, not knowing what they’d encounter next.

  City blocks had passed beneath their unhurried strides. They’d covered a few miles, both quiet. He must’ve known she needed to process what she’d heard and that she needed time to calm down from the killing rage that consumed her.

  God, Elsa. Why? Why did you get involved with Sergei? Why was your death necessary to advance his rank?

  Disgusted, she was forced to acknowledge that Elsa wasn’t spy material. It wasn’t new information to her, but she’d covered for her, thinking it should have been enough. Never had she realized Elsa was expendable. Elsa wasn’t capable of ruthlessness, she was often distracted, and she lacked a killer instinct. She would have been happiest being a wife, staying home, and raising babies. Unlike me.

  It wasn’t meant to be. Their lives weren’t their own from the moment they’d become wards of the Academy. From the time her parents died, they’d lost a choice.

  “We need to prepare.” Jack broke into her musings. “The UN meeting is tomorrow.”

  “Yes. Was Rich or Connor able to track where else Sergei had been?”

  Jack leaned back, crumpled the food wrapper, and shot it into a nearby garbage can. “Yes and no. Sergei was in New York after Colombia. Washington looked to be a short visit before he came back here. There isn’t a visual record of his returning from Colombia. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t fly with an alias and disguise. Most likely, that’s the case, and they’re still searching for visuals of where he could have gone.”

  “Right.” Her mind whirled as she tried to think where he could have stashed the list. “He probably stashed it here, in New York. He wouldn’t have kept it on him, and if the assassination will happen at the UN meeting, he would’ve planned a quick exit from here.”

  “I agree. Better to keep it hidden. More effective bargaining chip.”

  “Exactly.” There were too many places he could have gone and could have stashed a small flash drive. At least that’s what she assumed he’d kept the information on. Paper wasn’t practical or safe.

  “I already texted Rich and Connor to send over a list of every place they tracked Sergei stopping or even pausing for a few minutes.” He finished his water. “They’ll focus on that. We need to prepare for the UN Security Council’s meeting here.”

  It made sense that someone at the meeting would be targeted. They would channel their attention there, but she had an agenda first, one she would make damn sure was met. The list would be found.

  Chapter 28

  Russia

  Hannah—17 years old

  I hated it there. I didn’t despise everything about it, but what they were grooming us to be was horrible. I was in many combat sessions, but my sister was not. I did like them, but it bothered me that they separated us. They were molding us to be different. Playing to our strengths.

  But Elsa was mine—she was home to me.

  She was due back from her dance class any minute. In the small bathroom off of our room, I quickly washed the blood from my knuckles and dabbed at my swollen lip. The cut looked worse than it was.

  The sound of the door opening and closing drew me from the bathroom to see if she was back. The worst was when one of the instructors barged in. There was very little privacy.

  “Hi.” I couldn’t say why, but it was a boost to my flagging spirit to see her smiling face. “How was dance?”

  “Hard.” She laughed. “But we danced with partners today. That was fun.” Her eyes widened. It was the same as always.

  One.

  “Hannah!”

  Two.

  Her hand gently cupped the side of my face, and I wanted to cry even though the bruising had become normal for me. The punishing blows I took left visible damage, but it wouldn’t always be like that. I was learning.

  Three.

  “You should switch to my classes. They’re safer. I’ll talk to the instructors for you.”

  “No.” I broke contact from her touch. “I’m better at this. It won’t be too long. Soon, I’ll be the one delivering the bruises.” Her intervening on my behalf wouldn’t be good for either of us. “Don’t say anything. It looks worse than it is.”

  I pressed my lips into a thin line and readied myself to hear the dream she returned to every time we had this discussion. “It won’t be long until they send us to America.”

  “Why do you think that’s where we’ll go?”

  “I’ve talked with a lot of the others. Some study French or Mandarin heavily. Their TV access is only to those areas. Ours is American shows and movies. That’s where we’ll go.”

  She was right. I just wondered what else she knew. She was the social butterfly. I absorbed all the psychology behind building relationships just as she had, but she excelled at it. She loved it, but I did what I had to. Making connections and maintaining them didn’t come as naturally to me. I had to work at it, forcing myself. Elsa thrived in social situations.

  “Have you heard anything?” My heart rate spiked. I didn’t want to be separated from her. Being around her settled the turmoil that battled inside me. I was angry at the senselessness of our parents’ deaths, at not having any other relatives, and at the loss of our old life. I missed our parents desperately, the laughter, the way Mom would fuss over us, and how she would secretly talk to us in Russian at home when our dad was at work.

  I missed our dad too. He believed in us, insisting that we could do anything if we set our minds to it. He showered us with enthusiastic praise despite the times when we disappointed him. I missed how he would laugh or yawn with his whole body, cuddling up next to him to watch a movie, riding on his shoulders when we were younger so we could get the best views, and his hugs.
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  God, I missed hugs from our mom and dad.

  That wasn’t our reality anymore. “You didn’t answer me, El.”

  “Hmm?” She set her brush down, her hair no longer in a tight bun. “Oh. No, I haven’t heard anything really. I know our placement will be soon by the classes. They’re pairing us up more often now. They brought in this boy… He was partnered with Evangeline. I don’t know why, though.” She scowled. “He hasn’t been in all the classes with my group. I don’t know if they will pair some of us with others, you know, like boys who study in the same classes as you—more technical and combat than social skills.”

  “He wasn’t paired with you, though, so why bring him up?” I wanted to slap my forehead because it was such a dumb question. She brought him up because she had another crush. My sister and boys. They were like air to her.

  “He’s cute. That’s why I brought him up.” She twirled her hair with a finger. “He won’t be with Evangeline long. Not after he talks or dances with me. They’ll see we’re better suited for one another.” She flopped on her bed. “I hope I get to go to America as a couple. Set up a home in the suburbs.”

  “It’s not going to be as wonderful as you think, El. You’ll have to get information, report it to handlers, and not get caught.” Plus, they’d taken her ability to have a child. She will be used for other purposes. I hated to think about that. I also refused to say it to her. Still, I wished she would understand.

  She laughed, and tension spiraled inside me. She didn’t get it. Not really. My sister liked to live in a fantasy world, more so when she didn’t like the reality presented to her.

  Our reality was dangerous, and the danger would only escalate once we were placed.

  Chapter 29

  Jack

  Jack paced back and forth while Hannah sat on the edge of the bed. They were back in the hotel, brainstorming. Rich and the rest of Jack’s team, at least the ones not in Colombia, were handling Sergei, who was undergoing interrogation at an offsite safe house. Afterwards, they would lock him up in a private cell at the CIA. A holding cell there was preferable to jail because he was too valuable. They needed instant access until the weapon was found and the assassination averted.