“By letting me shoot the fucker in the head?”
“Not yet.”
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “But someday?”
“If the MDF green lights it.”
“And if they don’t?”
Jamie thought about all the problems that would cease to exist if Stanislav was no longer in their lives. “Then you can say your finger slipped on the trigger.”
Kyle grinned at him before leaning in for a kiss. “This is why I love you.”
3
A Poison That Never Stings
Alexei stepped out of the SUV beneath the umbrella Trevor held out for him to take. Paris in November was cold and wet, the dark sky above covered in low-hanging clouds. The cold weather was a far cry from the desert climates he’d traipsed through over the years as an adult, but similar enough to Boston that he wasn’t really bothered by it.
Alexei turned around and extended his hand to help Katie out of the SUV. Despite the weather, she wore a pair of four-and-a-half-inch stiletto heels that could probably take out someone’s eye if she used them as a weapon. A charcoal-gray trench coat that fell to her ankles protected her form-fitting cocktail dress from the weather. Alexei had opted for a designer wool coat similar to the one Jamie wore, charged to Jamie’s account. It was warm and comfortable, and Alexei wasn’t giving it back.
He wrapped an arm around Katie’s waist, tucking her underneath the umbrella as he took in the front of the luxury hotel. Le Meurice was practically a stone’s throw away from the Ritz, where the team was staying for their single night in Paris. Like the Ritz, the luxury hotel’s staff on hand was slavishly attentive to their every need.
Annabelle and Donovan would stay with the SUVs while Trevor and Madison acted as bodyguards for the four of them inside during the meal. La Fleur was one of the premier restaurants in the world, tucked away behind the Le Meurice’s antique façade. Alexei had already resigned himself to a dinner of artfully plated food that wouldn’t completely satiate his hunger. Rich people apparently liked food to be pretty, not filling.
He already had plans to hit up room service at the Ritz afterward.
Alexei watched as Kyle slid out of the SUV and ducked underneath Jamie’s umbrella, Jamie’s arm snaking around his waist to pull him close. The valet service was conferring with Donovan and Annabelle about where to park, and they left them to it. Jamie looked their way and tilted his head at the entrance in a commanding gesture. Alexei didn’t need to be told twice to get out of the wind and rain.
They hurried inside where a tall, slim Frenchwoman greeted them in accented English. “Bonsoir, Mr. Callahan. My name is Giselle Dupont and I’m the resident manager for Le Meurice. I understand you are here for dinner only, but please let me extend the hotel’s well-wishes for an excellent stay. If you need anything during your short time here, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, Ms. Dupont,” Jamie said in a cool, distantly polite tone. “We have a nine o’clock reservation and don’t want to be late.”
“Then let me take your coats and show you to your table.”
Right on cue, several hotel workers seemed to appear out of nowhere, ready and willing to take their coats and umbrellas. Alexei handed the closed umbrella to the nearest attendant before shrugging out of his long, heavy coat. He’d donned a navy three-piece suit for dinner tonight and had been ordered by Jamie to wear a tie. Alexei surreptitiously tugged at the knot, feeling like it was choking him.
“Stop it,” Katie told him out of the corner of her mouth.
“Hate ties,” he muttered under his breath.
“You’ll live, so stop sulking.”
Alexei bit back a scowl. He wasn’t sulking.
You’re sulking, Katie repeated telepathically into his mind.
No I’m not.
Katie gave him a long look, one brow raised in silent judgment. Alexei sighed irritably. Dealing with all this shit was so much easier when he got to do it with Sean. He wasn’t going to hide the fact that he missed Sean, who was still unreachable due to his undercover mission, but that didn’t mean he was sulking. The Ritz was drowning in luxurious opulence, and Alexei had indulged in more than one wistful thought about ruining the expensive sheets in the room he was sleeping in alone. A guy could dream, okay?
Katie gripped his elbow tightly and proceeded to drag him after Jamie and Kyle, her high heels clicking quietly on the marble floor. Alexei lengthened his stride to keep pace with her as they followed the others down a wood-paneled hallway to La Fleur’s entrance. With Giselle as their guide, they bypassed the hostess area and stepped into a room that looked like it belonged in Versailles.
Cream-colored curtains draped around the tall windows that overlooked the Tuileries Garden, which was softly lit against the night with a warm glow from street lamps. In contrast, the dining room of Le Fleur was brightly lit to highlight the richness of the décor. In the center of the ceiling, surrounded by a circle of gold-leaf wooden molding, was a fresco depicting various flowers. Hanging from the center of it was a large, heavy-looking gold and crystal chandelier that scattered the light across the room. Six smaller chandeliers were evenly spaced around the center one.
Intricate wooden moldings, appliques, and onlays covered in gold leaf sat atop black, white, and gold marbled wall paneling. Antique mirrors were spaced around the room, subtly giving the space depth. The centerpiece of the restaurant was the large fresco set in a circular marble frame above the unused marble fireplace.
People dressed to impress dined at tables covered in white linens. Giselle led them around the outskirts of the dining area toward the antique glass French doors which opened up onto a private dining room just as expensively decorated as the main room. Two bodyguards in dark suits stood outside that entrance, their expressions stony and uninviting.
Neither man protested Giselle’s approach; one went so far as to open the door for her and their party. Trevor and Madison took up positions outside the private dining room as the rest of them entered the intimate space. Inside, a tall window overlooked the Tuileries Garden, and the clear line of sight made Alexei twitch. The long rectangular table was set for six, with the head of each side already taken by father and son. Alexei had only seen pictures of the two, but even in real life, his opinion of them hadn’t changed.
They reminded him too much of the hardened men and women who had instigated a campaign of harassment and terror against his family and other refugees back when he’d been a child in the Ukraine. In those refugee camps and cities in that contested area, families remained isolated out of a need to survive the cruelty people such as the Pavluhkins and their Presnenskaya Bratva could dole out.
Yakov Pavluhkin was tall and solidly built, with the excess of his wealthy life carried around by a heavy gut. The suit he wore was tailored to help hide the result of indulging in too much rich food and drink, but clothes couldn’t completely erase a sedentary lifestyle. In his late sixties, Yakov’s thinning brown hair showed no signs of gray, and the tight, shallow wrinkles on his face spoke of one too many enhancement procedures.
In contrast, Stanislav must have taken after his mother more than his father. Not quite as tall as Alexei or Yakov, with sharp features most people would consider handsome, Stanislav smiled at their arrival, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. His light-brown hair was fashionably styled, and his bespoke suit was more on trend than any of theirs.
Both men stood up to greet them, and Alexei let Katie and Jamie take the lead while he and Kyle hung back.
“I’m pleased to see you could make time for dinner,” Stanislav said, shaking Jamie’s hand with a strong grip that didn’t faze Jamie before he turned his attention to Katie. “Ah, Ekaterina Ovechkina. Niko has nothing but praise for your work, as do we. It is good to finally meet you in person.”
“Thank you. It’s good to finally meet you as well,” Katie said, shaking his hand but pulling away after a few seconds to put some space between them. “My company has a reputation to u
phold. I expect nothing less than the best from my employees. I’m pleased to know you find our work ethics satisfactory.”
“Of course. Is not often we meet such beautiful woman who also has beautiful mind,” Yakov said as he stepped forward to shake her hand and pat her shoulder in a fatherly sort of way. “<
“<
A smile broke across Yakov’s mouth. “<
“<
“<>”
“Please, call me Ekaterina,” Katie said in English. “I think we can all agree to be on a first-name basis tonight.”
“Of course, Ekaterina.” Yakov turned to Jamie, gaze growing sharper as the smile dropped off his face. “Jamie Callahan. Have heard many things about you and your family. Is good to finally meet you.”
“Likewise, Yakov,” Jamie replied, extending his hand in greeting for a brief shake. “Always a pleasure meeting a businessman such as yourself.”
Yakov released his hand and turned to look at where Kyle stood close by Jamie’s side. “You must be Kyle. The man who punched my son in his face.”
Kyle shrugged, unapologetic as always. “He had it coming. I don’t care for bullshit maneuvers that put my friends in danger.”
Stanislav didn’t look amused by Kyle’s response. He didn’t say anything while Yakov boomed out a humorless laugh. “Will remember that.”
“I’m glad,” Kyle said coolly.
Then it was Alexei’s turn to be put under the microscope. Yakov’s gaze was direct and shrewd, eyes flicking up and down Alexei’s body, taking his measure. Alexei tried not to stiffen under the perusal. “<
“<
Yakov raised an eyebrow. “<>”
“<
Alexei didn’t really feel like talking about his childhood in the refugee camps and cities that dotted the contested region in the Ukraine. It wasn’t any of the Pavluhkins’ business. Luckily, before Yakov could trap him in more conversation, Jamie spoke up.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Jamie said.
Alexei was glad for the interruption and headed around the long table with Katie. He pulled out the chair for her and helped her get situated before taking his own seat. No menus were available, which told him it was probably a prix fixe meal full of food he’d never be able to afford on his own. The delicate bone china plates, crystal glassware, and polished silver cutlery produced a multilayered place setting that made him inwardly sigh.
He’d kill for a hamburger and some beer right about now.
The waitstaff came in and introduced themselves. Alexei didn’t quite catch their names, but figured it didn’t matter. He let Jamie handle the wine questions—something about pairings and swapping out several vintages for pricier bottles—but no one argued when Yakov requested a bottle of expensive vodka for a business toast.
“Tradition,” Yakov said with a lazy wave of his hand.
Tradition—and the promise of a sound thrashing in the training room back on base by Jamie or Katie—was probably the only thing stopping Alexei from rolling his eyes during the toast once the bottle arrived.
The waiter poured the vodka into six small, crystal-cut glasses rather than shot glasses, and passed them out around the table before leaving. Alexei raised his glass toward the ceiling along with everyone else.
“To new ventures,” Stanislav said.
Everyone echoed his words before drinking the vodka. The sharp tang of the alcohol filled Alexei’s mouth, the cold liquid sliding down his throat with a soft burn that tingled. He set the glass on the table and ran his tongue over the back of his teeth.
Jamie set his glass down as well and said, “Do you have electronic jammers running?”
“Of course,” Yakov said, sounding mildly affronted.
“Good. But I hope you don’t mind if we employ our own.”
“If you were anyone else, would say your lack of trust is insulting. But I understand this business we do is unfamiliar to you. Is not something you been in long.” Yakov waved a hand dismissively in Jamie’s direction. “Set your electronic jammers. Is no harm done.”
“Ekaterina?” Jamie asked, looking across the table at her.
“Already deployed,” was Katie’s smooth response.
“Good.”
Alexei shifted minutely in his seat, stretching out his legs a little. The table, while long, had a more intimate width, which meant he accidentally bumped Kyle’s foot. Kyle glanced his way, and Alexei offered him a faint smile in apology.
The master sommelier arrived less than a minute later to go over the selection chosen by Jamie. Waiters with the first course, an amuse bouche set in a tiny silver spoon, filed in behind him to serve everyone while the wine was poured. Alexei picked up the spoon and tried to identify the gray mousse, but couldn’t. Only when he tasted it did he realize what it was and tried not to gag.
Foie gras, Katie said to him through the telepathic link connecting their minds.
Tastes like vomit, Alexei shot back as he swallowed the stuff down, trying not to choke on it.
Gross, Kyle said. But yeah. It tastes disgusting.
Katie didn’t bat an eyelash as she daintily ate her bite with relish. Alexei quickly reached for his glass of wine to wash out the taste in his mouth. Why rich people thought that was a delicacy was beyond him.
The dinner conversation was shallow and bland through the first two courses, touching on nothing of note until the third course of seared lobster tail and some fancy sauces smeared across the plate was served to everyone. Alexei perked up; he loved seafood.
“You requested a meeting for a reason,” Jamie said as he used a small fork to spear out some of the lobster meat. “I’m not staying beyond the dessert course, so let’s get down to business.”
Alexei discreetly cut off a huge chunk of butter from the nearby butter dish and slathered it over his lobster tail. Sauces be damned; melted butter was the only way to go.
“We haven’t requested any jobs from you recently as we’ve decided not to renew any contracts with Saunders & Associates,” Stanislav said.
The British-owned company the Pavluhkins had blackmailed into working for them was how Alpha Team had received most of the jobs they’d performed for the Pavluhkins under the guise of Root Source, Inc. Alexei paused in pulling a bite of lobster free of the shell as Stanislav spoke. He didn’t like what that decision implied.
Hold position, Katie murmured in the back of his mind before she joined the conversation. “That’s a shame. The contacts we’ve made through them have been great for my company’s bottom line. Are you looking for a different partnership?”
“Unfortunately, not with your company. We’re more interested in what else you or your backer can bring to the table.”
Alexei really didn’t like the sound of that. He glanced at Jamie as he took a bite of lobster, unable to read the expression on his captain’s face.
“I take it you’re interested in one of my family’s?” Jamie asked coolly.
Yakov opted not to give them a verbal runaround. “Empyrean.”
Alexei nearly choked on his food.
Empyrean was the premiere luxury space cruise line that catered to the ultra-wealthy of the world. It offered trips around the Earth and the Moon while guests enjoyed themselves in expensive comfort. Empyrean was owned by the Callahans and was the crown jewel in their business portfolio. Alexei shouldn’t
have been surprised the Pavluhkins had moved on to personally targeting Jamie, but he was.
“No,” was Jamie’s immediate and calm answer before he went back to cutting out a piece of lobster.
“We’ve mined what contacts we could with Saunders & Associates,” Stanislav said, ignoring Jamie’s denial. “We’re looking to branch out into certain spheres of influence that would be beneficial for SDK.”
Unspoken went the implication that those same contacts would financially aid the criminal organization through blackmail and outright murder. The Presnenskaya Bratva wasn’t afraid to make a point to get others to fall in line.
“So you’re looking to pull the same shit you do with others with my family’s company?” Jamie arched an eyebrow in condescension. “Forgive me if I find your request laughable. My answer is still no.”
Some of the easiness in Stanislav’s expression disappeared, replaced by a hardness that set Alexei’s teeth on edge. “You forget your place.”
“I know my place,” Jamie shot back. “It’s higher than yours.”
Stanislav put down his fork, looking very much like he wanted to punch Jamie in the face for that statement. Alexei put down his fork as well to make sure his hands were free.
“You are businessman, da?” Yakov said flatly as he leaned back in his chair, gaze unreadable as he stared at Jamie. “Then you must know the jobs you do for us reflect badly on you and your father.”
“If this is where you say you have blackmailable material on Jamie through my company, then I suppose I should inform you that it would have been terribly remiss of me not to gain the same leverage over you,” Katie calmly said. “Which we did.”
Stanislav’s gaze snapped to her, watching as Katie took a sip of wine, unfazed by his anger. “You can’t trace anything back to us.”
Katie smiled, one Alexei recognized for when she went in for the kill. “I’m a very skilled hacker, Stanislav. If you thought I wouldn’t protect my people, you’re sadly mistaken.”
The tense stalemate lasted silently through the serving of the next course, a tiny iron kettle filled with clear broth, chewy noodles, and thin strips of tender beef. Alexei brought a spoonful of the broth to his lips and sipped at the hot liquid. It tasted like toasted sesame seeds.
In the Blood (Metahuman Files Book 4) Page 5