The Volkov Affair

by Taylor Lee

  At that moment, Nicki split the screen again and a picture of a handsome blond man appeared on the screen. Within minutes, the techies had combed the FBI database and the profile of twenty-nine-year-old Aiden Franks scrolled across the screen. His rap sheet was several pages long. Early into the clipped history of rape, armed robbery, drug dealing and armed assault, it was clear that the blond-haired charmer was a very bad dude, and the palpable concern in the Cave ratcheted even higher than it had been before.

  Twenty minutes later confirmation came from Cameron that Rob and James stated Aiden Franks was the last person they saw with Hillary—although he had introduced himself as Aiden Forester. A clipped note accompanied the confirmation.

  R.

  Additional scars applied. Rob and James agree going forward they won’t withhold info. Will continue to seek additional facts when subjects stop crying long enough to respond.

  Cam

  P.S. Never knew one guy had so much piss in him. Danny says we’re going to restrict liquids for a while or allow them to wear Depends. Come to think of it, diapers might add interest to the videos we’re making for You Tube.

  Laughter and guffaws at their teammate’s gallows humor echoed throughout the Cave.

  Within the hour Rafe had a team of six men covering Mindy’s house and dispatched agents to update Senator Chambers, Bernie Schwartz and Judge Peterson, and their wives. The rest of the day was spent organizing a team to cover the Saturday night party as soon as Mindy received confirmation of the city where it would take place. A skilled internet child pornography expert assumed Mindy’s e-mail and texting persona. No one would guess that Jeff Phillips, the grey-haired, 250-pound former Army Ranger sitting at his computer reviewing specs for an armed assault on the party site was the same person who kept up a running chatter with Mindy’s friends in flawless teenage girl-speak. Jeff’s goal was to be as convincing to Volkov and his minions when they connected with “Mindy,” as he was to her girlfriends who sought his opinion on their Brazilian bikini wax, and whether they should sleep with their latest boyfriend, or make him wait a night or two to whet his appetite.

  Chapter 27

  Throughout the day more of the puzzle pieces fell into place as the teams reported in. Rafe now had over fifty agents working the case, not counting Vlad’s team that was scouring the Russian mob for clues to Volkov’s identity. Twenty-five agents were preparing to cover the party once they had a bead on the location. Nicki was the heroine of the day. Every ISA agent—whether in person or via email—congratulated Nicki on her breakthrough work. They crowed that it was her persistence, and her insights, that put them within range of finding the kidnapped girls. Nicki was gracious but reminded the admiring throng that while they had made huge progress they still didn’t have a clue where the girls were… or who the hell Volkov was.

  Grayson and Caleb settled into the comfortable armchairs next to the sofa in Rafe’s office as Rafe rifled in his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Glenfiddich. He plunked the bottle and three glasses on the coffee table in front of them and sunk down on the sofa with a weary grunt.

  “Damn, what a day!”

  Both Caleb and Grayson nodded in agreement. The three of them had not stopped working since early morning and it was nearing dinnertime. They’d agreed that they had done all they could until the next morning, when “Mindy” got the final location for the Saturday night affair.

  “I don’t know about the two of you, but I think a drink is in order.” Rafe held up the bottle of Scotch and grinned when both Caleb and Grayson snatched a glass from the table and held it up to him to fill it.

  Caleb gave an uncustomary sigh and grimaced, “Hell yeah, and don’t stint on the booze, bro. May as well fill it to the top. I’m gonna need a couple of these to get my mojo cranking. Can’t remember the last time I’ve sat on my ass for nine hours straight.”

  Grayson chuckled in agreement and raised his glass to Rafe.

  “I know we still don’t know exactly where we will be tomorrow, but I gotta tell you, we are a hell of a lot closer than I thought we would be. Thanks to Nicki, by tomorrow morning we’ll likely have the city pinpointed and be on our way to discovering the exact location. Damn, it’s gonna feel good to finally get a venue nailed down. No one can case a joint the way we can and it’s gonna be sweet to crash that party ISA style.”

  Rafe nodded in agreement but cautioned, “I don’t have to tell you that even though we’re likely to have enough information to crash the party, that doesn’t mean we will find the girls. No telling where the bastards have them sequestered. There’s no way they will be at the party site. But you’re right. We had a huge breakthrough today, and once again Nicki and her instincts led the way.”

  “Here, here,” Caleb shouted and Rafe and Grayson joined him in clicking their glasses in a salute to their absent colleague.

  Rafe stood, his nervous energy making it impossible to sit in one place. He paced the room, unable to get Nicki out of his mind. She’d barely acknowledged his congratulations, and just shook her head when he suggested she join Caleb and Grayson in his office for a celebratory toast. Not that he blamed her. This room held a landmine of memories.

  Rafe tried to concentrate on Caleb and Grayson’s conversation, but his mind kept drifting back to the scene last night. He could still see Nicki marching through the doorway, her cheeks flushed and eyes blazing and hear Grayson’s chuckle as he got out of the way of certain fireworks. But there was nothing funny about her anger or her hurt. Remembering her anguish when she ran from the room, Rafe shook his head as if to extinguish the memory. Dragging his hands through his hair he asked himself again, as he had all throughout the day, why he had sent her that stupid text. Christ, what had gotten into him? Wasn’t he the guy everyone looked to as a master strategist? Right! And as if the text message wasn’t bad enough, he’d jumped all over her like a caveman threatening to kill anybody who so much as touched her. His gaze landed on the sofa. Remembering the sight of her gorgeous body stretched out before him he groaned out loud.

  “Uh, Rafe. Back here, man.”

  Rafe looked up startled to see both Grayson and Caleb staring at him.

  Feeling like an idiot, he tried to wave off their obvious concern.

  “Sorry. I have a lot on my mind. Uh, what was your question?”

  Caleb gave him a questioning frown, but Rafe didn’t miss the twinkle in the irrepressible man’s eyes.

  “Man, Rafe. You were in a different world. Hell, a different universe! I asked you three times if you were ready to go to dinner. Andre will be insulted if we don’t get over there in the next few minutes. He’s making bouillabaisse—he knows it’s one of your favorites. You keep insisting that Nicki needs to eat. Guess we’re gonna have to do the same for you.”

  Rafe grimaced.

  “You’re right, Caleb. For once,” he added with a forced attempt at humor.

  “Come to think of it, lunch was a long time ago. Let’s get the hell out of here. We obviously all need a break.”

  At his instigation, they tossed back their Scotch and dropped their empty glasses on the table with a clatter, then headed to the door.

  As they walked down the hallway to the central lodge, Grayson said in a casual voice, “Speaking of Nicki not eating, she asked me if she could go into town tonight. She’s got some kind of a dinner engagement. I assumed that wasn’t a problem.”

  Rafe jerked to a halt, heat flooding his face.

  “What the hell are you talking about, Gray? You didn’t tell her she could go, did you?”

  Gray pulled up short and stared at Rafe.

  “Hell, man. Whadda you think? Of course I told her to go. She’s been working almost 24/7, at least sixteen hours at a crack, since she and Caleb got back from El Paso. And we all know if it wasn’t for her ‘instincts’ as you call them, we wouldn’t be a day away from tracking down the party site, as well as….”

  Rafe broke in. “Fuck, Gray, you think I don’t know all that
? This isn’t about whether she deserves a break, it’s just that I don’t want her leaving the complex.”

  He quickly added, “I mean I don’t want anyone leaving the complex tonight.”

  The two old friends suffered a lengthy silence. Finally, Grayson simply nodded, and the men continued on toward the great room next to the formal dining room. Several groups of men were sitting in the comfortable overstuffed chairs flanking the massive stone fireplace, toasting one another, just as Gray, Caleb and Rafe had been doing moments before. The rest of the men were lined up at the dining room entrance filing in for what promised to be a celebratory dinner. The laughter and raised voices spoke to the high spirits caused by the break in their case.

  As they moved to join the crowd at the door, Caleb gave a long, low whistle.

  “I’ll be damned. If someone tells me I’ll never see an angel before I die, I’ll tell them they lied. I swear if that isn’t an angel, I don’t know my ass from an AK40! Damn, will you look at that woman? How the hell can any of us get any work done with Cleofuckinpatra sitting next to us?”

  Rafe heard Nicki’s low melodic laugh before he saw her, then came to a dead stop at the sight. She and Katya were walking down the hallway, giggling at something Katya had said. A steel vise gripped Rafe’s chest, forcing the air out of his lungs. A rush of adrenalin hit him the way it did before he prepared to fight. But unlike the usual calm that settled over him before a battle, every nerve ending was strung tight as a bow.

  Caleb hollered out as he marched over to Nicki, preparing to give her a big kiss, “Hey, hotstuff, you aren’t going out looking like that… at least not without one of us to keep the hungry wolves at bay, are you?”

  “No she isn’t.” Rafe’s voice was grim, unwavering.

  In that heated moment, Rafe vowed that he would die before he’d let her leave the lodge looking the way she did. It wasn’t that her dress was any more revealing than the ones she usually wore; in fact, at first glance it looked as though she was wearing a simple white blouse and slim black skirt. The blouse was sleeveless and flared at her waist accentuating the curve of her hips. But when she faced him head on, Rafe drew in a sharp breath. The blouse was cut on the bias in a way that particularly accentuated her full breasts. The high-starched collar opened to a row of tiny buttons from the top of the abbreviated bodice to her waist. What seemed demure at first glance was anything but.

  The top button was low enough to reveal the swell of the pale soft mounds hovering beneath. Rafe estimated that it would take a clumsy man no more than a minute to pop open that row of buttons—and an expert like himself could do it in mere seconds. The way her breasts strained at the buttons, the man who undid them would have been doing a service. And if anyone thought that a plain black skirt couldn’t scream sex, they hadn’t seen this one on Nicki. Closing in on her, Rafe saw that like everything she wore, the outfit appeared molded to her body. What would have been an innocent combination on nearly any other woman was incendiary on Nicki.

  Sheer white stockings with sexy seams up the back encased her mile-long, showgirl legs. Five-inch white and black strappy platform high heels completed the ensemble. At her neck was her infamous Boomslang necklace that had taken on a whole new meaning since the ‘incident’ two nights before.

  Rafe was so stunned by the sight of her that he didn’t remember that he had spoken until he saw her scowl.

  She frowned and said, “I beg your pardon. What did you say?”

  His voice reflected the anger gripping his chest.

  “I said, ‘No, you aren’t going out, looking like that, or any other way.’”

  Nicki tossed her head and reached in her purse and pulled out her keys and another shiny object.

  She gave him a saucy smile.

  “Actually, I am. As you can see, I have my keys and my distributor cap.”

  Seeing that most of the men in the room were now watching them, Rafe forced himself to speak calmly, quietly.

  “We have an agreement, Nicki.”

  Nicki’s voice was as artificially calm as his.

  “The agreement we have is that I will not leave without telling someone where I’m going.”

  Tilting her chin at an impudent angle, she added, “I told Grayson.”

  Rafe’s voice was icy, laced with danger. “Where are you going?”

  Nicki smiled sweetly. “As I told Grayson, I’m going out.”

  The word sprung out before he could swallow it.

  “Alone?”

  Nicki shrugged and gave him a sassy wink.

  “Let’s just say, I’m leaving here alone but I do plan to have company tonight.”

  She turned to go then looked back and added, “In case you are interested, I haven’t told my father where I was going at night since I turned eighteen—at which point he stopped asking me.”

  With a sweet smile and a little wave, Nicki spoke to the group.

  “Night, guys. Don’t wait up for me.”

  Through a haze of red, Rafe became aware that Grayson was tugging on his arm, holding him back.

  “C’mon, man. Let her go. You can’t have it both ways, Rafe.”

  Nicki’s curvy hips swayed with every step as she clicked her way across the stone walkway to the garage. Red-gold tendrils sprung loose from the jeweled comb holding the swirl of curls she’d twisted up on the top of her head. Every click of those outrageous heels drove a spike through Rafe’s heart.

  Chapter 28

  The pounding water beat a tattoo of red hot pinpricks on his back and neck. Rafe was determined to loosen the tension that had his muscles twisted in knots. He snorted derisively. Hell, if pounding the bag for the last hour hadn’t done it, he was asking a lot of the shower. Nope, there was only one solution to this dilemma and it didn’t involve sitting in his room sulking or beating his hands and feet raw against a leather bag. Hell no. This called for interpersonal violence.

  Toweling off, he dragged a pair of jeans and a t-shirt over his still damp body. Not bothering with a comb, he shook the excess water from his hair and ran his hand through it. He huffed out a dismissive grunt. Guess that’s why he paid Tony what he did to cut it. Rafe didn’t have to comb it—it worked no matter what he did.

  His reflection in the mirror stopped him. Damn, no wonder his men were alarmed. If he saw him coming he’d be concerned too. He looked like a man out to kick some serious ass. He shrugged. May as well let the assholes know what they were facing. He had a rule he’d followed for most of his life. He didn’t kill unless it was absolutely necessary. Tonight it might be necessary. Shoving a knife in his boot, he strapped on his ankle holster. Rummaging through his gun safe, he chose his trusty Rugar. After checking the slide, he slid the sleek weapon into its holster and headed to the door.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he threw a contemptuous glare at the man in the mirror. Even in the state he was in, he knew the weapons were for show. As in the past, if they stripped him of every gun or knife, he still had his most powerful weapon, his killing-machine body.

  A light knock stopped him. Goddammit. This he did not need. He’d listened to Grayson for the last time. He knew his friend—hell, his brother in arms—had his best interests at heart. But Grayson didn’t understand. Nicki was out there. Alone. Or worse, not alone. That simply would not do.

  Swallowing a frustrated groan, he prepared to make short work of his interfering friend. Grayson needed to understand. The time for discussion was over. Sometimes a guy needed to do what he had to do, even if it wasn’t right or smart or worthy of him. Tonight was such a time.

  Jerking open the door, he froze, then stepped back, stopped by the only thing that could have made him change his mind. Nicki.

  She took his breath away. For a long moment, he simply stood there. Then, regaining his composure, his ever present arrogance kicked in. Quirking a brow, he drawled, “Can I help you, Princess?”

  She started, indecision flashing across her beautiful face. She made a visible attempt at nonch
alance but her voice gave her away.

  “I…I…may I come in?” He leaned against the doorjamb, folding his arms across his chest. He took a deep breath then blew it out hoping to get rid of some of the adrenaline coursing through his body. The breath didn’t work. He tried instead for indifference.

  “I thought you were going to town.”

  She frowned and her chin went up a notch, a warning signal he’d come to know.

  “No, I said I was going out.”

  “Hmm, and now you aren’t?”

  She tossed her head and sucked in a noisy breath.

  “No, what I’m looking for is right here.”

  When he frowned, unable to cover her nervousness, she added with a shaky smile gnawing at her trembling lower lip, “Are you going to invite me in or not?”

  The fury that had been driving him all night slowly began to dissipate. In its place he felt righteous anger. The one thing he was not going to do was play games with this woman. He shook his head.

  “Uh, no, Nicki, I’m not.”

  His dismissive tone had an unintended effect.

  Her eyes narrowed then she tossed her head and gave him a sweet smile.

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to invite myself in.”

  As she brushed by him, he grabbed her arm. “What are you doing, Princess?” His voice held a low threat.

  She jerked her arm free then marched past him. Looking over her shoulder she said, “Given your bad manners, I guess I’m inviting myself in.”

  Pushing by him, she walked into the center of the room. Pointedly avoiding looking at the bed, she glanced around the room, then focused on the sitting area. Her throat jerked when she tried to swallow. She threw a desperate glance at the liquor cabinet. When she spoke, her voice shook in spite of herself.

  “Aren’t you going to offer me something to drink?”

  “No, Princess, I’m not.”