by Wendy Rosnau
“We’ll discuss the mission later. For now I want to look at your leg.”
“Is that so? Then why are you looking everywhere else but at my leg?”
“Because a man enjoys looking at beautiful things,” Bjorn admitted. “And you are a beautiful thing, Nadja.”
She tried to pull away, tried to sit up and rescue the blanket. When he wouldn’t let her, she kicked out at him, the easy movement dispelling the catch in her knee. She kicked again, this time aiming for his crotch.
Bjorn deflected the blow. “Careful,” he said, then in a low voice that warned her he wasn’t used to losing a fight on any level, he said, “I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t make me.”
She stopped fighting him. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
“I don’t usually make deals, but I’m listening.”
“How badly would you like to know one of my secrets?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she lifted her chin, then pointed to the scar on her inner thigh, two inches above her knee. “I’ll tell you what’s in there if you promise me something.”
“In there?”
“Yes, inside my leg.”
“And what’s the something I would have to promise?”
“That you’ll help me locate Ruger after our mission is over. I said after. I’ll go forward with the mission without distraction. We’re close now. In a few days this should be over.”
Bjorn watched her eyes, checked her breathing. This time he didn’t believe she was lying.
“Is it a deal? Promise me that what I tell you stays between us, and that you’ll help me find Ruger once the mission is over, and my innermost secret is yours.”
He released her leg, and she gathered up the blanket and stood while Bjorn remained balanced on his haunches.
“This will be our secret, Bjorn,” she said, looking down at him. “Ours alone. It’s worth it. Promise me, and I’ll give you the inside story.”
She knew what she was doing. They had a past, and she was using the memory of what they’d shared to manipulate him. He wasn’t the kind to fall for such an obvious game, but he was damn curious. And it wouldn’t be hard to find her brother after this was over. A week’s work at the most. And maybe the inside story would shed some light on Nadja’s connection to Holic.
“It’s a deal,” he said, shoving to his feet. “Ruger will be found after we locate Holic.”
“Swear the secret will remain ours alone.”
“I swear.”
Nadja drew in a breath and let it out slowly. She had never imagined sharing this particular secret with Bjorn Odell.
There were only three people who shared the secret at present. Kovar had warned her never to speak of it to anyone. Polax had been included only because he had needed to cover up the truth where the files at Quest were concerned.
But if Ruger was truly missing, then she would need Bjorn’s help in finding him. And for that she was willing to share her secret—at least this one.
“You read my file?”
“Polax had it in his office along with the other two candidates’. Yes, I read all three of them.”
“Then you know about the accident I had in Zurich?”
“It was documented. You were nineteen. Suffered a skull fracture and concussion. Hospitalized for several months due to massive internal damage, broken bones and trauma, which led to multiple surgeries. Polax referred to you as the queen of pain. So what’s your secret?”
“Broken bones heal…eventually. But some things, if the damage is too great, can’t be fixed.”
“What are you saying? The file didn’t wave any red flags.”
“Of course not. Quest’s requirements and standards are quite high. No flaws are acceptable.”
“Are you saying you have a flaw?”
“Oh, yes. I have a major flaw, one that Polax swept from my medical file before I was interviewed by his superiors.”
“And why would he do that?”
“Money. He’s always in need of money to fund his next invention. If he cleaned my file and I was accepted into Quest, then he would receive a substantial yearly allowance.”
“Who bought him off? Who wanted you inside EURO-Quest?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“So Polax agreed to put a double agent into his organization? And now that I know this I’m supposed to continue to work beside you, knowing that your loyalty is—”
“To the mission,” Nadja promised. “I give you my word that our goal is the same.”
“And I can sleep easy knowing you’ve given me your word, right?”
“Holic must die, Bjorn. On that we agree. And the kill-file must be recovered—otherwise our agents will die. Yours and mine.”
He snorted, his face a sour mix of emotions. “I should send your ass back to Prague on the next flight.”
“But you won’t. We made a deal, and you agreed to it.”
“Finish it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He was glaring at her, his blue eyes as cold as the weather outside.
“Let’s hope you’re a man of your word.”
“Let’s hope you’re a woman of yours, or I might just have to kill you before this mission is over.”
“Fair enough.”
“It has nothing to do with being fair. It’s about survival. The secret. I’m waiting.”
She was going to just say it. To come out with it and then… She raised her chin. “During my accident a major nerve was severed in my leg. That’s what I meant about some things can’t always be fixed.”
“But you’re here, and from the stats in your file—”
“The doctors who put me back together told my grandfather that I would never walk again. But Kovar wouldn’t accept that, so he decided that he would find an alternative.”
“What does that mean, an alternative?”
“He knew a scientist in Russia who was performing experimental surgeries on laboratory rats. He was having success reattaching severed limbs.”
“But your leg wasn’t severed.”
“No, it wasn’t. Which, I was told, was better. It made the risks more manageable.”
“You’re saying this rat scientist operated on you?”
“He had invented a nerve chip, and used it in over a dozen operations.”
“On rats.”
She heard the disgust in Bjorn’s voice, saw it in his eyes. “Kovar wouldn’t accept me living in a wheelchair. He wanted me back on my feet. Back on the slopes.”
“You could have died.”
“Several times. But without the use of my leg…” She shrugged. “I was a skier, after all. That’s who I was. I didn’t know how to do anything else. I thought, might as well be dead if I can’t ski.”
“That’s what he said, isn’t it? Your grandfather? He used that argument to get you to agree to the surgery, didn’t he?”
She had never had a choice to agree or disagree.
If you’re going to exist in a wheelchair you may as well be dead. I can’t look at you that way day after day. I won’t. You disgust me.
She could still hear the words, the tone in his voice. She turned away from Bjorn’s dead-aim gaze, the mix of emotions on his face making her more than a little uncomfortable. Why should he care what kind of surgery she’d had, or how risky it had been? She’d survived after all, so that was no longer an issue.
But he did care on some level; it was evident in the way he had flared at the very idea of having experimental surgery in a rat lab.
She turned and faced him. “My secret is I have a bionic nerve chip in my leg. It was implanted by the Russian in a research lab surrounded by caged rats. After the surgery was over, I stayed in Russia for another seven months.”
“Why so long?”
“My recovery took…time.”
“Meaning it took more than one surgery to get the damn chip to work?”
His tone was still the s
ame, full of repulsion.
“Four surgeries to be exact,” she admitted. “My body kept rejecting the chip. And there was a problem with regenerating nerve impulses once the chip did accept its new home. There are these microelectrodes doing something terribly complicated that trigger nerve activity. I don’t understand all of the scientific jargon, or how it all works, but it doesn’t matter. All that’s important is that after months of therapy I was able to walk again. Then run and jump.”
“And ski?”
“No. I never skied again.”
“Why not? I thought that was the goal?”
“It was, but there was a problem. There had never been any research done on the chip’s effectiveness in cold weather. What we learned was that it works only under controlled body temperatures. Since returning to the slopes put me in an unstable environment, temperature wise, a comeback on the ski circuit was impossible.”
She watched as Bjorn’s eyes singled out the leg in question. Of course he would be curious. In his shoes she would be, too. But she still resented it. A ceramic-coated chip placed in and around the nerve was what was feeding her leg, the only thing keeping her on her feet. Without it she was a cripple.
“Okay, Odell, take a good look.”
She dropped the blanket to the floor, and stood naked before him. Slowly she brought her leg forward for him to examine.
Turning it outward so he could see that it was the same as the other one, with only one small difference—a two-inch thin scar on her inner thigh. She said, “Well, what do you think? The chip was there that night in Vienna. I kept up with you on the run, and later you had no complaints in the shower. My endurance matched yours. Tell me it didn’t.” On a roll, she said, “The question is, am I human or bionic? What do you say? Give me your expert opinion. I know you have one. A man like you has an opinion on everything.”
He reached her in three steps, picked up the blanket and wrapped it back around her shoulders, tucking her inside it with the same kind of gentleness he had offered her five years ago.
She was still fighting the emotional flux from his hands on her when he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. She stayed there, and when he lowered his head, she angled hers back, knowing what was coming.
She let out a sigh when his lips covered her. Opened her mouth and let him taste her. Kissed him back. She felt his arm curl more firmly around her waist, bringing her forward against his hard body. He was thrusting his tongue now, sweeping her up and devouring her at the same time.
She could smell his skin, feel his body, feel his cock swelling against her.
The way he held her… Touched her…
It was too much, too potent and too full of old memories. She wrenched herself out of his arms. “You never told me what you think. How do you think of me, Bjorn? Does the nerve chip make me a bionic freak of nature?”
Bjorn let her go. He hadn’t meant to let things get out of hand. That she was even letting him kiss her spoke of how vulnerable and confused she had to be. And the question she had asked confirmed that vulnerability. She shouldn’t give a damn what he thought about the nerve chip. It’s what she thought that was important.
“Go to bed. You need to get some sleep.” He started for the door.
“You didn’t answer me. Bionic or human?”
He grabbed his jacket.
“Bjorn, don’t walk out.”
He walked, taking the stairs two at a time once he got through the door. He needed to get some air, but the minute he stepped out into the blowing snow he wished he’d stayed. Wished he’d answered her.
Bionic or human?
The nerve chip was the reason she was on her feet. The very idea took him aback. She’d been an experiment. An experiment that had come about because Kovar Stefn couldn’t abide defeat.
He wanted to hate her grandfather for that, for putting Nadja through hell, but on the heels of that thought came a very damning, selfish feeling of relief. Relief that the rat scientist had been multitalented and hadn’t given up the first time or the second and third. That the result had been Nadja back on her feet. That Kovar had been arrogant and connected enough to go looking for an alternative.
Kovar is well connected.
And wealthy, Bjorn thought. Wealthy enough to buy Polax.
You’re a double agent. For who?
I can’t tell you that.
Bjorn leaned against the building and puffed hard on his cigarette, welcoming the nicotine into his lungs as well as the cold air.
I have a bionic chip in my leg. Bionic freak, or human? Don’t walk out.
He lit up another cigarette, then had two more.
You’re a double agent. For who?
He made a second call to Jacy and got him out of bed.
“I know I just called a few hours ago, but do you have anything for me?”
“I got a little. Nadja’s parents are dead. A car accident that took them both at the same time. She’s the youngest of two children. She’s got an older brother.”
“That’s right. His name’s Ruger.”
“She and her brother moved in with the grandfather after her parents died. After that she started skiing, and got damn good at it. Kovar Stefn owned a home in Langenfeld—then he bought an old lodge near Zell am See. He tore it down and built a fancy place called—”
“Groffen?”
“That’s right. Pretty plush place from what I can tell on their Web site. Had to cost a bundle to build. Which put me on the money trail, but it turned cold right away. Something’s up with that, though, because Kovar Stefn wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth. So that brings up the question, where did he get the money to build a multibillion-dollar ski shack?”
Bjorn tossed his cigarette. “I think Holic Reznik’s at Groffen.”
“At Groffen? Why would he be there? The information I have pinpoints Otz as his likely destination. He’s supposed to have a wife somewhere around there. That’s kind of crazy, too. We’ve got a name, but nothing else.”
“Mady?”
“That’s it,” Jacy confirmed.
“She’s moved to Groffen with her daughter.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ve got a smart partner,” Bjorn said. “Anything else on Nadja?”
“She disappeared soon after the accident. I can’t find any info on her during that time. It’s like she vanished.”
“I know where she was. What else?”
“Three years later she resurfaces. But she’s no longer the sweet-faced darling who ran the ski circuit for ten years. She’s packing heat and working for EURO-Quest. Her kill record is the best in her field. I tapped into Quest’s computers and found out that she disappeared once more. This time for about a year. In the file it states she was captured by an anarchy group, but there’s no follow-up. No information on whether she escaped or was released.”
“When was that?”
“About four and a half years ago.”
The first disappearance Jacy spoke of had to be when Nadja went to Russia to get the nerve chip implant. But where was she the second time? Had she been captured and held prisoner, or had she made up that story because she needed to return to Russia? Had her disappearance involved a problem with the chip? Five years ago she’d been on a mission in Vienna. That meant she’d gone missing shortly after they met.
“What did you find out about Polax?” Bjorn asked.
“He’s been involved with some costly projects. He’s always over budget. But as far as I can tell he’s loyal to Quest.”
“Check and see how Kovar Stefn and Lev Polax might know each other. And see if you can hunt down Nadja’s brother. He’s gone missing. She says at least eight months. He was a priest in Innsbruck at Wilten Parish. Start there.”
“I’ll check back with you as soon as I have something concrete.”
Bjorn hung up, then headed back inside. He was exhausted and cold. He shook off a chill, or maybe it wasn’t a chill at all.
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Maybe it was his sixth sense working overtime.
Chapter 10
“The operation is over, Adolf. There were some surprises. I told you I wouldn’t sugarcoat anything. You waited too long to have the surgery. The tumor was getting damn comfortable. Setting down roots, as they say. That’s why you were in the operating room half the day. You’ve already been through two stages in the recovery room, and you’re doing fine. You’re back in your room now, and you’ll be fading in and out. That’s normal.”
Merrick tried twice to speak but his words came out sounding ugly and unclear.
“Don’t worry about your speech. That’s normal, too.” Paul touched Merrick’s arm. “Don’t worry, pal. At this point I’m not seeing anything to be alarmed about. You’re in good hands. I’ll check in on you in a few hours.”
When Paul stepped back, Merrick saw Sarah. He didn’t know why she was there, or who had called her. Still, he was glad to see her. Maybe he had asked her to come. No, he hadn’t asked. He knew what he’d asked of her. To see to Johanna’s roses.
She had a tissue balled up in one hand, and her cheeks were watery. They were a deep emerald green, and he realized that he had never noticed that before now. She also had petite pink lips, a small nose and silky brown hair that reminded him of how Johanna had worn her hair over the years. Simple yet elegant is what he had always thought. Only his wife’s hair had been as black as midnight and as shiny as a new penny.
Sarah wasn’t Johanna, but she was beautiful. A slender woman in her mid-thirties who had never married, and had worked only in her father’s flower shop.
They had never spoken beyond chatting about the weather and Johanna’s roses. But now she was here and she was crying.
Crying for him.
He watched her reach for an ice chip from a cup on the portable stand next to his hospital bed. After touching his lips with the ice, she coaxed him to open his mouth and then slipped the chip inside.