by Kaylea Cross
Amber tracked them via a beacon in the vehicle, following their route on a GPS map on screen. “Roger.”
A blow came through her earpiece, followed by an enraged cry and a burst of angry Russian. More blows, a grunt, then a masculine cry of terror. Zoya spoke in rapid Russian, ordering him to give her the password to his account, then threatened what piece of him she’d cut off next if he didn’t comply.
Another struggle followed. Amber couldn’t see what was going on in the vehicle, but she could guess. It wasn’t her concern, so she monitored the vehicle’s progress through the winding streets of the ancient city and waited to enter the password.
Zoya’s amused laughter came a minute later. “I got the password. You ready for this?”
“Ready.”
“It’s SuckMyRussianDick.” A burst of feminine laughter followed. They must have gagged their target, because only garbled sounds answered.
Amber didn’t so much as grin. She was in work mode, completely focused on her task. “Copy. Entering now.” Amber typed in the phrase and accessed the account. “I’m in. Stand by for transfer.”
Ninety seconds later, every cent from his account had been transferred into the offshore one she’d set up for them. “It’s done. Can you confirm?”
“Confirmed.” She could hear the smile in Zoya’s voice. “Dumping target, then we’ll meet you at the RV point. Glad to have you on the team, Amber.”
“Yeah, bye, Amber,” Hannah chimed in.
“Roger that.” She shut everything down, packed up, and headed to the RV point, a twenty-minute walk on foot. She tracked their vehicle on her phone, but several minutes from the meeting point, the beacon stopped working.
Amber stopped too, and found a safe spot to contact them. But no one answered.
With the RV point only a few minutes away and no way to contact her team, Amber had hurried to the northwest corner of the intersection where they were supposed to pick her up.
But another team was there to meet her instead.
Five armed thugs had swarmed her in a coordinated attack. And Amber had realized the truth.
Zoya and the others had done this. They’d sent her here to die.
Pulling out of the painful memory, Amber drew in a shaky breath, not even feeling the heat of the water beating down on her. Even now that betrayal cut deep. Her chest ached, her heart heavy. So much had gone wrong after that. She’d sought and taken her revenge, and then learned too late that Hannah might have been innocent.
In a horrific twist of irony, Amber had sold Hannah out too, betraying Hannah the same way she had been.
It was too much. All the pain, all the betrayal and anger and regret, all the fear and grief… The wall that had held the tide of emotion in check for so long suddenly ruptured.
All this time she’d been seeking revenge against the people who had betrayed her. Now those Valkyries were all dead—including Hannah, whether she was guilty or not. She’d thought their deaths would free her somehow. Ease the bitterness inside her. But it hadn’t.
A picture of Hannah formed in her mind. Lying on that cold, concrete floor, head shorn, face and body beaten. She might have been tortured first. Raped. Her final hours had been spent in pain and fear, not knowing how or why she’d been captured in the first place, and Amber still hadn’t been able to ascertain whether Hannah had set her up or not.
My fault. All my fault.
Amber’s chest constricted. Her shoulders jerked.
She bit down hard to keep the sobs in, but the force of them burned her lungs and hurt her ribs. The hot water washed away her shameful tears, the enclosure giving her at least some privacy while the torrent of grief ripped through her.
Finally, she was able to push past it and breathe again. The weight remained, however, pressing on her heart as she scrubbed herself clean of blood and sweat and wished her soul could have been cleansed as easily.
After dressing in a fresh change of clothes from her backpack, she pulled her wet hair up in a knot at the back of her head and studied herself in the mirror. She looked ancient, as if she’d aged a decade over the past few days, with dark shadows beneath her puffy eyes and lines bracketing her mouth.
She bent to rinse her mouth and splashed cold water onto her eyelids, not wanting to look like she’d been crying. Crying was for the weak and never changed anything. She’d learned that as a child when her parents had been killed, even before the Valkyrie Program had taken over her life.
Straightening, she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Her eyes were still a little puffy and red but it would have to do.
What was done, was done. She’d spend these next few hours watching over Kiyomi and then get on the plane out of Syria. Once she got back to Laidlaw Hall, she could finally stop running long enough to do some more digging and find out just how great her sins were.
****
“Up two blocks and on the left. Hurry,” Yury said to his Russian contact behind the wheel as they raced to get to the warehouse.
Recent intel had come back that a gunfight had broken out at the building less than an hour ago. Reports were vague. He didn’t know if Amber had been there or if she was one of the dead. If she wasn’t, he was hoping to find a clue that would tell him where she’d gone.
The driver screamed up to the warehouse and hit the brakes. Yury jumped out and ran for the door, the Russian right behind him. Two armed men stood guard, barring their way.
“The female captives. Are they still here?” Yury demanded in Arabic, flashing a fake Russian government agent ID that would get him access because of his country’s ties with the Syrian government and military.
One man shook his head. “Both gone.”
His lips tightened. “Let me inside.” He needed to see for himself.
The guards let him through. A team of forensics people were inside, blocking his access. He showed the ID again, argued and threatened until he got his way and was allowed inside the taped-off area. Blood spattered the wall and floor near an open doorway that led down into a basement.
He found investigators and other forensics people there, combing through the evidence. Bodies lay at the base of the stairs, and one female captive was dead in her cell. Not Amber Brown. It was Hannah Miller, one of the crew who had worked with Zoya to set up the big payoff op in Rome.
The one that had wound up costing him and Zoya so dearly.
“I need to see the security camera footage,” he demanded.
When he finally got access, he was disappointed once again. Amber had used some kind of electronic crimping device that had set the camera system on a loop, hiding her presence and anyone else who had arrived after her.
Frustrated, he pulled the lead investigator aside. Yury had just missed her. Again. And there was no telling where she was now, or where she would go now that Hannah was dead. “The other female captive. Where is she?”
“Gone. Whoever broke in took her.”
Amber. “How many people broke in?”
“At least two. Maybe more.”
He frowned. Valkyries were some of the best trained assassins in the world, but even someone as skilled as Amber wouldn’t have been able to pull this off alone—not with this many guards responding. So who had helped her? The other captive?
Why had Amber taken her? He couldn’t see her risking so much to free a stranger. Unless the captive was another Valkyrie?
It was possible. Two of them could have done this. Or had Amber been working with someone else?
Yury handed the man a piece of paper with the number to his burner phone on it. “Call me if you find out anything more. I’m looking for this woman. She’s a top priority target for both our countries.” He gave him Amber’s picture, then turned to leave.
He stopped in surprise as Fayez Rahman burst in, flanked by four of his personal bodyguards. His dark brown gaze swept the interior, then locked on Yury. He marched straight at him. “Is she gone?” he demanded, grabbing Yury’s arm.
Yury pulled free and took a step back. They were acquaintances, nothing more, and he didn’t like Rahman touching him. “Who?”
“The Asian one. Is she gone?” His expression was full of a weird mixture of fury and something like panic.
“Yeah.”
Rahman paled visibly, then let out a stream of curses in Arabic and paced in a tight circle, raking a hand through his hair. He spun back to face Yury, his dark gaze hostile, accusing. “Were you here for them? The women?”
He shook his head. He didn’t want Rahman as an enemy. “No. I want the one who came for them.”
Rahman looked him up and down, still suspicious, then pulled in a deep breath and regained his normal, cool bearing. “If you find her, bring the Asian woman to me and I’ll pay you three million.” Without a word he stalked toward the open door that led down to the basement.
Yury digested the offer on the way out of the building. He didn’t need the extra money once he got his back from Amber, but handing this Asian woman over to Rahman afterward might be worth it. He’d see how things went.
His Russian contact was waiting for him by the front doors. “What now?”
“We search all transportation hubs. She’s going to try to leave the country.” The checkpoint and border guards he was paying were all looking for her. If she tried to get out of the city tonight, Yury would have her.
He got back in the vehicle and made some calls to other contacts, checking train, bus and plane schedules. “Let’s head back to base,” he said to the Russian. He couldn’t do any more until he got another hit on Amber.
They stopped at a café to grab coffee and something to eat on the drive back to base. Yury dropped his contact off and headed to a new location across the city, frustration pulsing through him. Where are you, you bitch?
He was asleep in bed, dreaming of Zoya when his burner phone rang. He bolted upright and grabbed it, his pulse tripping when he saw a contact’s number. “Have you got something?”
“I found a flight plan for a private jet scheduled to land at an airstrip outside of the city in two hours. It’s coming from London. Couldn’t find out anything about who ordered the flight, but I thought you might want to check.”
Yury was up and back in his car within two minutes, speeding for the airstrip located out in the desert. The sun was just cresting the horizon behind him when he got there.
A Lear jet was parked on the runway. Three people were walking up the steps into the cabin as he got out of the vehicle. A woman, and a man carrying another woman in his arms. They were too far away for him to ID the man and the woman he carried, but the other he would recognize anywhere.
Amber.
Yury raced along the fence, weapon in hand, but they were already inside the aircraft and he was too far away to hit them. He ran for the small gate where another vehicle was parked outside. It was locked.
Cursing, he grabbed hold of the chain link, but the top was covered with razor wire. He reached into his pocket for wire cutters and began slicing through the chain link, then the plane’s engines powered up. It made a wide turn and taxied to the end of the runway.
No!
He wrestled with the damn fence, punching a hole just big enough for him to squeeze through. He started running, helpless rage filling him as the jet’s engines powered up once again. It shot off down the runway, gaining speed.
Yury stopped, his heart sinking as he watched it lift off the ground and soar skyward.
Fuming, he spun around and raced for the small tower nearby. He shot the lock off the door, rammed it open and tore up the stairs, blood pulsing in his ears.
The lone flight controller inside cried out when Yury burst into the control room and pointed a weapon at him. “Where is that flight going?” he barked.
The young man held up his hands, his eyes wide, mouth open. “W-What?”
“Where is it going?” he shouted.
He spun back around to face his desk and began typing madly on his keyboard. “Uh…uh, Germany. Landstuhl Air Base.”
Fuck!
He grabbed the kid by the back of his neck and growled into his face. “Get me a jet and a pilot. Now.”
He was not letting Amber slip away again.
Chapter Eight
“Who is that? Do you recognize him?” Amber pressed a hand to the seat and peered out through the window as the jet lifted into the air. They’d taken off just in time. Whoever that guy on the ground was, he was armed and had been racing toward the plane as they’d boarded.
“No, I didn’t get a good look at him,” Cordova said next to her, his goateed face inches from her own as they stared out a window in the starboard side of the jet. He smelled good, like soap and citrus, and having him so close sent a bolt of feminine awareness through her. “They’ll have surveillance footage from the tower. Can you snag it?”
“I’ll see what I can find.” Ignoring her innate reaction, she crossed the aisle to where she’d left her bag and pulled out Lady Ada. As she got to work, he eased away from the window and came across to sit in the seat next to her. He leaned back so slowly that she glanced over at him in time to see his face tighten as his back met the seat.
She felt badly that he was hurting so much because of her. Setting the laptop aside, she dug in her bag and came up with some pain meds. A peace offering of sorts. “They’re not as good as codeine, but they’ll help with the pain and inflammation.”
He looked up from the pills in her palm, those warm brown eyes delving into hers. An almost electric tingle flowed through her, something responding deep inside her.
“Thanks.” His fingertips glided along the sensitive skin of her palm as he took them, triggering more tingles before he grabbed the bottle of water in the cup holder and downed them.
Amber jerked her attention back to Lady Ada, glad to have a task to keep her focused. The man was already proving to be a distraction she couldn’t afford, her entire nervous system reacting when he came near.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about him. He was ruggedly good-looking, skilled, and calm. She might not fully trust him but after everything that had happened and Megan’s nod of approval, Amber was a lot less wary of him than she would be of anyone else.
Back to work.
As a starting point, she found the website for the airstrip they’d just taken off from. After that, it was just a matter of finding information on the control tower, and searching for access to the security cameras.
“Here we go,” she said less than ten minutes later, pulling up a view of the perimeter of the airfield.
Cordova leaned closer to look at the screen, invading her senses with his clean, slightly lemony scent, his aura of power palpable. “His car’s still there. Can you get the plate?”
“We can try, but likely won’t get much from it.” She hit some keys and zoomed in. The plate number was visible, but fuzzy. She took screenshots. “We can tweak and analyze them later. I’ll send them to Trinity now.”
After sending them she switched back to the current view. Another jet had arrived and was taxiing toward the control tower. “There he is.” The man who’d run at them was now heading for the plane, his back to them. She took a few more screen shots, but even when he got into the aircraft the angle wasn’t right to get a clear look at his face. “He’ll have our flight plan.”
“I’ll alert Trinity and the others so they can let Landstuhl know. He won’t be granted access to their airspace.”
Amber nodded and closed Lady Ada. “Best I can do for now. I’m going to check on Kiyomi.” Mostly because her reaction to him unnerved her.
She put the laptop aside and got up, trying to squeeze past him. He surprised her by standing and capturing her chin in one hand.
Amber froze, torn between shoving his hand away and admiring his gall. But she found she couldn’t move. Could only stare into those gorgeous brown eyes as he seemed to probe her mind for all her secrets.
“Are you sure you’re okay
?” he murmured.
His tone was low, intimate, sending heat curling through her. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she muttered, pulling free and sliding past him, her face flushing. She needed space and Kiyomi might wake up at any time, disoriented and confused.
Cordova might not be a threat, but he was a danger to her all the same. The less time they spent together, the better.
She found her old friend asleep in the small, private cabin in the aft of the aircraft. Amber shut the door softly behind her and crossed to the bunk where Kiyomi lay. God, the bruising and swelling on her face were awful.
She knelt next to the bed and gently laid a hand on Kiyomi’s forehead. One swollen eye popped open as her hand shot up to grab Amber’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.
“We’re on a plane,” Amber explained, keeping still, her voice low. “I’ve got an IV in you to give you fluids and antibiotics. We’re flying to Landstuhl in Germany to refuel and have a doctor check you out. Then we’re going to England to be with the rest of the team.”
“Team?” Kiyomi whispered, releasing Amber’s wrist.
Amber nodded. “I trust them. We’re trying to find all the Valkyries and bring them in.”
“Who’s we?”
“An NSA agent, some other former Valkyries, me, and my sister.”
“Sister?” Kiyomi frowned.
“Yes.” Amber smoothed Kiyomi’s lank hair back from her face. “It’s a long story I’ll tell you about later. Right now I need to know how bad you’re hurt.”
“Not that bad.”
Yeah, right. “If I gave you a mirror right now, you might change your mind.”
One side of her mouth lifted, then she flinched and touched the cut on her lower lip with her tongue. “My…ribs hurt. Not sure if any are broken.”
“What about inside?”
The partially open dark eye watching her glanced away. As though Kiyomi was unable to hold Amber’s gaze. “I’ll live.”
Amber’s stomach clenched at everything Kiyomi didn’t say. What did they do to you? Though she could imagine easily enough. “Here. Take these.” She shook out a couple of extra strength painkillers and gave them to her with a bottle of cold water. “Slow sips.”