by Sadie Jacks
Didn’t mean I wouldn’t give him shit for it later. But I was smart enough to wait until I actually had them on my body.
“Sorry. I had to snag some from one of the girls. She was the closest to your size. I think she shoved some other stuff in the bag for you as well.” He tossed the bag to me.
Then turned around, faced the door. The set of his shoulders spoke of tension and emotion. What emotion, I had no idea. But I was done caring as I caught the bag.
It was much heavier than I’d planned on. I fumbled, trying to keep it all within the thin plastic confines. Once I got it steady, I set it in the sink and started to go through it.
No underwear, but that wasn’t altogether awful. I’m not sure I would have wanted to wear some other woman’s panties. But I had been correct. It was a purple velvet running suit.
Drying off with what looked like a hand towel, I got down to the business of dressing. Since the suit at least looked warm, I pushed aside my distaste for the color and got dressed. She’d even given me a pair of matching socks.
I almost cried at the generosity of an unknown woman. I waited to put the socks on until I was back in my cell. No sense getting the socks all wet before I got to enjoy them.
“Done yet?” Arkady asked in a low voice.
“Almost.” I hurried to look through the rest of the stuff in the bag. When my fingers felt a familiar rectangle, I pushed it back to the bottom and shoved everything else into the bag. “Done.”
I tried to steady my breathing. Tried to act like nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary.
Arkady turned back. Looked me over with his intense stare. Finally, he nodded. “Good. Back to the cell.”
He opened the door, waved me through. “Leave the bucket. No one else comes down here. At least, not anymore. Your stuff will be safe.”
I clutched the plastic bag to my chest, hurried past him.
“Where are we?” I asked as we made our way back across the big room.
Arkady remained silent.
Well, it had been worth a shot.
“Did you get in a lot of trouble for helping me?” The words were out before I even knew I was going to ask them. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
I didn’t want to know if I needed to feel guilty or bad for him. I was struggling enough to get through each day here, even if I wasn’t aware what day it actually was. Taking on the shame or guilt for how he was treated wasn’t in my game plan.
We finished the walk to my cell in silence.
He opened the door, the muscles of his arms bulging under the strain of turning the wheel. I was pretty sure he even grunted at one point.
My brow furrowed. “Did getting me clothes make you into a weakling? You didn’t struggle this badly with the door before.”
He looked down at me, his golden eyes held a light of…something. “It doesn’t really concern you. Leave it alone.”
I closed my mouth, nodded. Fine.
We stood in silence as he worked at the door some more. After a long, weird moment of awkwardness, the door opened. No longer the herald of screeching doom, it opened with an odd sigh of disgruntlement.
My gaze flew to Arkady’s. “What did you do?”
His brows lowered. “Something I shouldn’t have. Leave it at that. But you’ll be safer in here now. I also got you some things. But you need to figure out where to hide them. If either of us get caught this time…” His voice trailed off.
I nodded. He was trying to help me. Even if he was an asshole, he wasn’t a horrible one. “Thank you,” I said softly as I walked into my cell.
“Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.” His face was dark as he muscled the door closed.
With the door closed in my face, I blinked as I looked around the room. Gone was the sagging bed frame. Another one, almost the exact same style, sat in its place. But this one didn’t look like it had tried to carry an elephant for a couple years on it’s slats.
A mattress perched on top of it. This one had a different pattern on the ticking than the previous one, this one also didn’t carry any stains. The foot of the bed held a small pile of blankets.
Moving forward, almost unable to believe my eyes, I sat down on the bed. It squeaked and squealed under my weight. But I wouldn’t be looking gift horses in the mouth. From under the blankets, I saw a thin black cord.
Dropping my plastic sack on the bed, I upended it to find what I prayed I’d felt earlier. My breath caught in my throat as I unearthed a phone. And it matched the cord.
Turning the phone on, I debated on the wisdom of actually using it. What if it was a trap? What if they were hoping to lure more of my family here?
I was out of my depths in terms of sneakiness and trying to outthink someone else. Especially an entire family of people I had no prior contact with. Other than Arkady, and I was still unsure of him outside of the fact that he would do what needed to be done to protect himself.
Tired of waffling, of not making any clear decisions, I decided to try to contact someone. But it would have to be through a non-direct channel.
Once this was over, I was going to make Nik give me some actual lessons in technology. And something more than just jailbreaking my phone. I was also going to be on Foster like white on rice to get some real education on tradecraft. Not just some skulking around.
Trying to navigate to the phone’s functions to get everything to display in English was a hard enough task. I was lucky I didn’t break the phone by punching every single possible button. But I finally got it.
Now that I could actually use it, I had to see if I was connected to the internet. If I was, it would remove a ton of issues. If not…Well, I’d cross that river when I came to it.
Just as I was trying to connect to what I thought was an open Wi-Fi signal, the doorknob started grinding.
Shutting the phone down, I frantically searched for somewhere to hide the phone and charger. But there was literally nothing. Not close enough for me to get to in time.
With zero options, I stuffed the phone down my pants and shoved the charger and cord between the bed and the wall. Hoped I wouldn’t have to get up and move. Hoped it was just Arkady. Hoped…I hoped a lot of things.
But hoping would get me nowhere. So I cleared my mind and waited to see what was actually coming for me.
Chapter 17 – Foster
After shoving one of the burner phones under a familiar park bench, I sat and stared at the dark sky. Waiting was one of the worst parts of this job. But my contact wasn’t willing to be seen talking to me.
I understood it. I could even appreciate it. But it pissed me off to have to be at the mercy of someone else. That Talia was effectively at the mercy of someone else.
In so many more ways than one. I just prayed that she was holding out. Holding on.
I’m coming for you, Talia. Just hold on for me, hellcat. Give me time to find you.
Part of me scoffed at the idea of being someone’s—anyone’s—hero. But that Talia Amatucci was the one who literally depended on me, grinded my guts. I’d given up the cloak and dagger of life or death when I left the Agency.
While I still worked in counterintelligence for the corporate world, the stakes weren’t nearly as high. Nor as deadly. I still took my work seriously, but no one died if I got the information wrong. Or didn’t react fast enough.
The memories of my last mission for the Agency pushed at the edges of my mind. I kept them locked away through long practice. Like reading a debriefing report, the basics stood out in my mind. Those…those I’d never been able to block.
Target: Constantin Kroshcevk
Age: 58
Height: 5’10”
H/E: Brown and brown
Family: not married – one mistress. Five children. Estranged.
Objective: Surveillance. Determine relationship with Karine Petrova.
Target: Karine Petrova
Age: 28
Height: 5’6”
H/E: Blonde and green
Family: UNK
Objective: Intelligence gathering. Possible key player in moving WMDs across R/EU.
I felt the movement in the air before I saw him. He’d never been very good at stealth. But he was gold for information.
“Maks? Eto pravda ty?” His voice was a dry whisper. Maks, is that really you?
“Da.” I nodded without looking away from the stars. My contact was skittish on the best of days. Better not to rip into him in my haste. I might need more than just a single lead from him. “Eto bylo slishkom dolgo, moy drug.” It’s been too long, my friend.
The bench shifted slightly as he took a seat. “YA slyshal, chto vy vernulis' domoy. Chto vy vyshli iz igry.” I heard that you had gone back home. That you were out of the game.
“Da. Biznes vernul menya.” Yes, business has brought me back.
He exhaled slowly, the vapor of his breath a transient cloud in the silence of early morning in a Moscow winter. “Chto vam nuzhno ot menya?” What do you need from me?
Finally, I turned to look at him. Just as it had etched its passage on my face, time had weathered my friend. His hair was now stark white under the black of his skullcap. Crepe-like skin almost translucent under the bright moon. Bent and misshapen, he was a living testament to a hard life.
“Vo-pervykh, mne nuzhno znat', pochemu ty solgal mne.” First, I need to know why you lied to me.
He stilled beside me, his faded denim blue eyes still sharp as freshly hewn scalpels. “Pochemu ty dumayesh', chto ya solgal tebe? Ty drug. YA ne lgu svoim druz'yam.” What makes you think I lied to you? You are a friend. I do not lie to my friends.
I studied him. Weighed his words. Not once in the ten years I’d been stationed in this frozen hell had he given me bad information. I nodded. “Yesli vy ne solgali, znachit, vashi istochniki solgali vam. Mne nuzhna informatsiya o nochnykh uzhasakh.” If you didn't lie, then your sources lied to you. I need information on the Night Terrors.
His white brows lowered over his nose, a faint red splashed over his thin cheeks. “YA zaglyanu v svoy istochnik. Vy uvereny, chto oni oshibalis'?” I’ll look into my source. You’re sure they were wrong?
I nodded. “Ochen' nepravil'no. Chto vy mozhete rasskazat' mne o nochnykh uzhasakh?” Very wrong. What can you tell me about the Night Terrors?
He rolled his thin, lined lips in, seemed to debate with himself. “Tol'ko skazki. Nichego solidnogo. Eto byla gruppa zhivotnykh, poyavivshikhsya posle GULAGa. Pod nimi nichego ne bylo. Yesli rasskazy pravdivy, to vam nuzhno derzhat'sya ot nikh podal'she.” Only stories. Nothing solid. They were a group of animals that emerged after the gulags. Nothing was beneath them. If the stories are true, then you need to stay far away from them.
I shrugged. “A Kuznetsov?” What about Kuznetsov?
His brows scrunched, a look of deep thought covered his face. After a couple moments in silence, his expression cleared. “Vy sprashivayete o nochnykh uzhasakh. Teper' vy sprashivayete o Kuznetsove. Kak vy dumayete, oni svyazany?” You ask about the Night Terrors. Now you ask about Kuznetsov. Do you think they are connected?
I looked at him without expression, held my silence.
He gave a low whistle. Nodded. As he started speaking again, I let the Russian roll over me like an old familiar blanket. I translated his words into English as he spoke. “There was a Kuznetsov from the gulags. It was rumored he was the only survivor of his family. Big news back then. The story goes that he created a family when he was released after Stalin fell. If they are the same family, then the Kuznetsov’s are untouchable. Even under Putin's reign. They are old money. Old, bloody, brutal money.”
Great, just what I didn’t need. Oh well. I’d done worse with less information before. “Gde ikh nayti?” Where can I find them?
The old man snorted. “Eto tak Gollivud, chtoby skazat' eto, no vy etogo ne delayete. Oni tebya nakhodyat.” It is so Hollywood to say this, but you don’t. They find you.
I chuckled. Nodded. “Spasibo, staryy drug. Den'gi ostavlyu na starom meste.” Thank you, old friend. I’ll leave the money in the old place.
He smiled, stood. In very broken English he said, “You safe. Not shot.” With that, he lifted a hand and shuffled away.
I was going to try to stay safe. And getting shot certainly wasn’t on my top ten things to do while back in Russia.
Taking a few more minutes for my contact to safely leave the park, I pulled one of the new burner phones from my pocket. Glancing at the time, a smile pulled at my mouth. I hit the speed dial I’d set up for Nik.
“You’re dead. You just don’t know it yet,” she panted in my ear.
“Why the fuck did you answer the damn phone, Cricket?” Turo hissed low. He was out of breath as well.
“Because I’m the fucking handler, you dipshit.” Her words rang out and into a low breathy moan.
“So glad I caught you while you weren’t busy,” I said, my voice dry and sardonic.
“Foster, I swear to the gods, I’m going to kill you for this,” Turo shouted.
“Hey, I’m not the one whose woman is picking up calls during sex. Not my fault you suck at sex.”
“Ragno, you pull out now, I swear to all that you hold holy—”
“Meaning his dick,” I said quickly.
“Shut the fuck up, Foster!” Nik screamed at me. “You don’t finish me off, I’ll kick you to the fucking couch for the rest of this mission.”
Turo’s voice was very close. “She’ll call you right back.” The line went dead.
Chuckling, I got to my feet. Started walking away from the meet site. As I crossed the frozen park, I realized I wasn’t alone.
Someone was out there. Matching my steps. Staying just out of sight.
Old training kicked in. The proverbial saying, ‘like riding a bike,’ wasn’t wrong. Soon, without real conscious thought, I was drifting in and out of the shadows. One with the patches of pitch black that ringed the park like silent sentries.
Once I was a good distance away from the edge of the park, I stood for a moment. Covered my mouth with my hand. Not even the plumes of vapor would give me away.
It wasn’t long before I saw my shadow. Shorter than me by a good six or seven inches, the person moved with the grace of a professional dancer. Light-footed and sure of each step.
In this work, there was no telling if my tail was male or female. And it would be stupid of me to discount either option at this point. I might be out of practice, but I certainly wasn’t stupid.
Sinking back into the shadows of the giant evergreen tree behind me, I waited for the tail to make a move. Slowing my breathing, I pulled my collar up to hide the exhalations that wanted to sigh over the midnight air. I could stand here for hours if necessary.
I was hoping my shadow wasn’t willing to do the same. But it was a chance I would have to take. Remembering the call that I was expecting, I pulled the phone from my pocket and turned it to mute. Just as I was about to put it back in my pocket, Nik’s name scrolled across the screen.
I opened the call, but didn’t say anything. Covering the mic with my hand, I made sure no sound would carry. Sound carried so much better under the cover of darkness.
Hopefully Nik would get the message and start tracking the call. Once again, I thanked whoever was out there that Nik wasn’t an idiot.
When the sound from the other end of the phone died off, I lifted the device. Typed out a text message telling her the situation. Told her where to start looking.
—On it. Watch your 6
I rolled my eyes. She’d clearly been watching too many spy movies. Or war movies.
The line stayed open as we continued to wait in silence.
Just off to the left, the direction the tail had been, came the sound of a scuffed boot over dry sidewalk cement.
I smiled. Someone was a little impatient, it seemed. And thank fuck for that. My balls were cold enough already. I didn’t need them freezing and falling off.
“I know you’re out there, Maks. Why
don’t you come out and say hello?” a feminine voice called. “Or maybe you only go by Foster Ambright these days.”
Fuck. The one person I’d been hoping to avoid.
We were all screwed.
Chapter 18 – Arkady
Shoving the door open once I had the lock free of its newly eroded casing, I called out. I really didn’t want a repeat of the last time I’d come in here without announcing myself. “It’s Arkady.”
A choked soft sob. “Come in.”
I gritted my teeth and hardened my heart against the relief I heard in her smoky voice. Getting tangled up in the trouble she represented was not in my game plan. Either short- or long-term. Helping her at all had already gotten her severely punished. I wasn’t sure either of us were prepared for her to be punished again.
“I’ve got your food for the day.” Turning slightly, I saw that she was huddled on the bed. The blankets were still in a neat pile at the foot of the mattress.
She nodded, but didn’t get up. “Thank you.”
I slid the tray onto the bed. Questions and promises pushed at the back of my throat. Demanded they be voiced.
Swallowing them all, I simply nodded and turned back to the door. “Knock on the door when you’re done. I’ll take the tray.”
Saying nothing, she nodded again. Her dark chocolate gaze bold, even with the residual swelling in her cheeks. Barrikad had plowed his fist into her face. She must have some remarkable genetics not to have crushed bones by now.
I pulled the door shut behind me. Maybe I had gone a little overboard on corroding the wheel in its socket, but it was the only thing I could think of to help her. And it wasn’t fucking much, my conscience yelled at me.
I batted the annoying voice away. Not my fault she was caught up in the mafia. Not my fault her dad couldn’t keep a tighter leash on his brothers back in the day. Not my fault they all thought she was the weakest link. The prized and cherished daughter of the almighty Amatucci crime family.
Whoever they’d gotten their information from was an idiot. Nothing about that woman was pampered or soft. Other than her silky body.