Wallbanger

by Sable Jordan

  “You said it yourself, the boss never gets his hands dirty. And I had a meeting in Paris, remember? You can check my passport if you want.” He held her penetrating gaze. “Sacha didn’t have Harvey. He knew about it, but Nikolay didn’t give it to him.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “There were things he couldn’t answer—things he should have known. It started becoming clearer the more we talked. His safes held nothing but cash; nothing on his computer…I’m guessing he went back to Nikolay’s to find anything he could about the bomb. So, the only other person with a hint of knowledge on Harvey’s location is dead, which means it’s over. Go home, Kizzie, wherever that’ll be.”

  “Sacha knew nothing? Figures,” she said absently, and then asked, “Are you familiar with the Japanese concept of In-Yo?”

  “That has to be the most random question at the moment.”

  Her brow knit thoughtfully. “Not so much. Indulge me.”

  “Let’s see…similar to Yin and Yang, except the symbol is a small circle surrounded by a larger circle, said to be the Sun-disc and the Crescent Moon. On the left is the kanji character ‘tora’—tiger—which represents nature and earth. On the right is ‘tatsu’, the symbol for dragon, representing the cosmos, and spirituality. Together they represent dynamic balance.”

  “Very good, young Padawan.”

  “Thanks, Yoda. But that has nothing to do with Harvey.”

  Kizzie found a tone that mimicked his and frowned. “Sounds like you’re questioning my method. Do I need to take you over my knee, Master Duquesne?”

  Xander barked a laugh, and then deadpanned, “Not on your life. And you called me Master. I like that, Princess.”

  “It won’t happen again. Back to my point. While you and all the other big bad Masters were off being…” she waved her hand dismissively, “masterful, I was busy collecting Intel.”

  “Such as?” He braced his elbows on his knees.

  “For starters, Sumi, Sacha’s sub. Notice anything odd about her?”

  Xander shook his head. “Didn’t pay her much attention.”

  “Come on. A beautiful woman wearing skin and ropes and you don’t pay her any attention?”

  “I was busy ogling my own sub, if you must know.” He smiled at the way her face flushed.

  “Sumi is an interesting character, and much more than she appears to be. Deceptively strong; like she was trained in more than being a submissive. She managed to drug and bind me, not something I’m proud of, but in my defense I had just been lashed, and you gave me the water.” She winked at the dig and continued. “She set the charges, knowing full-well that Sacha was in the chamber. I was just bait—he was the fish. So who’s the fisherman?”

  Xander shrugged. “Million dollar question.”

  “I think I have an answer. Sumi has a couple of tattoos, one of which is the In-Yo on her right shoulder blade. In the position for tiger is the kanji character for mist. Know what mist is in Japanese?”

  “Kasumi…” Xander responded, unclear of her point. He recovered the food and scooted the chair closer to her. Settling the plate on his lap, he ignored the fork—sharp implements were probably the last things Kizzie wanted to see—and broke off a triangle of pita bread with his bare hands, using the kimaj to scoop up the simple meal of lentils and rice. He held the morsel of mujaddara to Kizzie’s mouth and she ate it without hesitation.

  “That’s her real name—Kasumi. Now, in the dragon position was a character that means...” she chewed the mouthful, searching for the right word, “unbendable? No, more like resistant to bending. A subtle difference.”

  “Okay, that’s not really much to go on, Kiz.” He repeated the ritual with the food, this time eating it himself.

  She smiled. “When Sacha was working me over, he was in a rage about something. Wasn’t even seeing me.”

  “I hear that happens when you’re hopped up on coke, which is why I told you the plan had changed in the first place. I wouldn’t leave you with him knowing he was unstable.”

  “Yeah, but this was different. He kept calling me ‘syestra’—sister. Always in some variation, ‘my filthy sister’, ‘my bitch of a sister’, ‘I will find you, sister!’ He was very angry with his sister. And Nikolay—no doubt about it he killed his father. Can you call Phil in here?”

  Xander frowned, remembering how Sacha had referred to Zlata when he hit her and trying to follow the scattered trail Kizzie was on. “Phil!” then to her, “Nikolay didn’t have a daughter.”

  “I’m pretty sure he did.” Another bite of food was held to her mouth and she paused to accept it. “In the dossier you gave me, Nikolay travelled to Japan a lot before Sacha was ever born.”

  “To meet with the guy who altering the RDX for him.”

  “Hiro Ohayashi—sounds masculine enough, right? Naturally we assumed it was a male engineer, females being rare for the time period. But Hiro was a bit of a rebel, working with a Russian when, politically, Russo-Japanese relations were strained. Who would think to look there?” She glanced up when Phil entered. “Where’s Zlata?”

  “Shaking a cola bottle.” Phil looked between the two of them. “She’ll be pleased to see you’re feeding yourself.”

  Kizzie rolled her eyes. “Before this one stole my phone again, I was accessing a…nonexistent government database you two are going to forget I slipped up and hinted at.” She stared pointedly as both men motioned like they were zipping their lips.

  “I was able to track Hiro’s movements and, whaddaya know, came across a single entry about her giving birth to a baby girl 33 years ago.”

  Xander’s heart sped. “Where is she now?”

  “That trail dried up. No mention of a name, and shortly after the girl was born Hiro left Japan for territory unknown. Which is why I asked for Phil.” She angled her head. “How far is the range on that necklace?” The two men exchanged a look and Kizzie smirked. “I’m not a secret agent just because I make a nice honey pot. And the boobies are a dead giveaway that I actually have a brain. I knew you had a chip planted in the collar. Thought I was gonna bail, didn’t you, Xander?”

  “You did say she was capable.” Phil chuckled. “RFID chip embedded in the lock. Need to be within two miles or so to track it.”

  “Can’t we amplify the range using a network?”

  Xander rubbed his chin. “Yeah, but it would take time, unless we had a specific area we were covering.”

  “Do it anyway, because after Kasumi kissed me—”

  “She kissed you?” Xander and Phil asked in unison, surprised. “Damn,” Phil continued, “I always miss the good parts.”

  “Yes, she kissed me. If you two are done brain-fucking that mental pic—

  “Hold on,” Phil shut his eyes tight, a huge smile on his face. “Oh, yeah….”

  “I tried real hard to chew her tongue from her mouth.”

  He sighed morosely. “Well, you just ruined that for me.”

  “Happy to help. Now, after the less than unimportant kiss,” Kizzie went on, “she unlocked the collar and took it with her.”

  “Wondered how you got it off,” Xander murmured.

  “You think Sacha didn’t know anything,” she said, “and that Nikolay called him ‘the Black Russian’ because of the evil in him. Being in his presence for an hour, I can see why you’d make that mistake. Crazy son of a bitch and the powder didn’t help. But I think Niko called him that because Sacha was in the dark.

  “How’s this sound: Sacha kidnaps his father, tries to force the info about Harvey from him. Niko doesn’t tell him but accidentally slips up and mentions this sister Sacha never knew about. But that sister always knew about him—plants Kasumi in his camp to watch his moves, waiting for the right time to get rid of him. Even better if Niko’s original buyer is there to bite it, too—you being a general pain in the ass and all, Duquesne.”

  “Basket-of-puppies cute,” he deadpanned.

  She chuckled. “I think for Niko, his eldest
son and daughter are his own personal versions of In and Yo, Yin and Yang, dynamic balance.”

  “One in the know, the other oblivious.”

  She nodded. “Right now I’d bet money Kasumi is wearing my collar—”

  “Your collar?” Xander interrupted, brow raised.

  “—the collar,” she amended, “and is back under her Mistress.”

  He bobbed his head; hope springing to life. “Sacha’s sister, the White Russian.”

  * * * *

  Downstairs, Marchande waited for Zlata to go outside before pulling the phone from his pocket. He had a specific window to check in with his contact and was just on the tail end of it. With Xander strategizing with Kizzie, this would be the best chance he’d get.

  “You got it?” the man on the other end asked.

  Hello to you, too. “Close.”

  “It’s been ‘close’ for a while now.”

  He didn’t appreciate the tone, returned with one harsher. “You’re more than welcome to go after Harvey yourself. I get paid either way.”

  A long pause before the man spoke again. “Was that you in St. Petersburg?”

  “No idea what you mean.” Phil almost laughed.

  “Is that how you’re playing it?”

  “Stop with the questions. You want Harvey, I’m working on it.” He watched Xander make the descent of the stairs. “But I need a favor.”

  16

  With slow baby steps Kizzie eased to the door and stopped, bracing her body against the jamb. Every footfall was agonizing, sending a shockwave through her bruised side and ribs. Standing tall tugged at the slice across her belly, so she stayed doubled over to minimize the pain. It didn’t help much. A few more feet and she’d be there, but it might as well have been miles for the condition she was in.

  “What are you doing out of bed?”

  Her unexpected visitor almost made her jerk upright, but she remembered it would hurt like a bitch and stayed pitched toward the floor. Her gaze was all she had the strength to lift. “My bladder still works, you know.” Xander strode to her side, bent to lift her. “Do it and die. I’ll get there on my own.” She progressed another inch and stopped. Maybe I should do it fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid. She didn’t move. The mind was willing. The body was smarter.

  “Too bad Sacha didn’t beat the stubborn out of you,” Xander grumbled. He ignored her threat and picked her up, deposited her on the bed.

  “You really are an ass.” But she was thankful he hadn’t listened.

  “Says an ass. Next time call me,” Xander said, pulling the light sheet up on her. “You wreck my stitch-job I’ll be pissed.”

  Kizzie cocked her head. This was an interesting bit of information. The physician that had come to check her out said everything looked fine, and she assumed he’d been the one who patched her up. But Xander? She would have thought Phil before Xander. How did he know what to do?

  “You stitched me?” she asked. “Why didn’t you let me die?”

  “I need you to get Harvey first.” It was cold, but it was the truth, and she appreciated it. “Do that and you can die all you want.”

  “Thanks…for patching me up.” Her eyes roamed over his attire—jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. What was he dressed for? “It’s gotta be four in the morning, X. Do you ever sleep?”

  “Heard you up and came to see if you needed anything.”

  “Funny, I thought subs did all the serving.”

  His voice went silky. “Are you my sub, Princess?” She didn’t respond and he followed with, “To dispel the myth, a good Master takes care of his sub, much the same way a good husband cares for his wife. You have a lot to learn about the lifestyle.”

  She snorted. “My submissive day is already a faded memory.”

  “You mean you didn’t like it even a little? The spankings and the whip? Before you came out the zone, I think you were up to four or five on the cum count.”

  “Good thing I’m not paying you to think, Duquesne.”

  He grinned. “Maybe when you’re ready to admit it, I’ll—” The words died in his throat and he reached into his back pocket. “Brought you a present. Phil couldn’t hack it—he’s still working on the other one—but this one keeps vibrating.”

  “Waste of time.” Taking the device, she quickly thumbed a complicated pattern over the darkened screen and the display lit up. “Biometric scanner coupled with a sequencer. Something one of the wizards in The Crew rigged. Can’t get in unless you’re me.” She eyed the notification.

  “Everything okay?” Xander asked.

  Her head bobbed. “Yep, just fine.”

  “Liar. But you don’t trust me, so I’m not offended.”

  He was right on both counts. The flashing alert meant things were definitely not okay. And she wouldn’t trust him, period.

  She turned the tables. “Do you trust me?” Xander shook his head. “Plan to?” He didn’t respond. “You were military, weren’t you?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Just the way you talk sometimes. Makes me think you served in one branch or another, before you went all bad guy on your own country.”

  “Four days of ROTC before they kicked me out…. Better at giving orders than taking them.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to get to the bottom of the mystery that is Xander Duquesne.”

  “No mystery, Princess. What you see is all there is.”

  “Hmm.” She didn’t believe him but continued. “Hey, something’s been bothering me since Mauritius.”

  He leaned against the wall. “Thought we weren’t going to rehash Mauri—”

  “We’re not. S’just…something you said got me to thinking…. The sapphire, you knew I’d gotten it from the gunrunner, Ri Nguyen, but it’s yours?” He seemed to think about his response before signaling yes. Not the whole truth, but she let it go. “Did you know it was rigged to a comm-link?” Kizzie held her breath, hoping like hell his answer was again in the affirmative.

  Xander frowned. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  She kept her expression impassive. “My team lost contact with me while I was on your yacht being…imprisoned. Tell me the truth. Did you jam the feed?” Again with the breath holding, skin itching on the edge of sweat.

  “Like I said; no idea….”

  She scrutinized his blank face. “You’re lying.”

  “What’s there to lie about? We were miles from shore. By the time your team got to the yacht, by boat or copter, I’da been gone.” He shrugged. “I didn’t jam the feed, Baldwin. Believe me or don’t, your call. Get some sleep.”

  If Xander was telling the truth—and she wouldn’t bet her life against that “if”—then it meant he was also right about there being problems in The Crew. And, more to the point, it meant either Solomon or Gale, the only members with her on the Mauritius job, had jammed the feed. So Xander was a liar, because that would never happen.

  When he left the room, Kizzie entered a code to bring up the live video link, flipping from camera to camera to assess the damage. But everything at her place appeared normal—clothes on the floor in the living room, half-full Balboa bottle on the coffee table. Relief flooded her. The second-story window. She had to leave it cracked open on her mad dash out. It had probably let a breeze in that triggered the alarm.

  The argument didn’t convince, and she accessed the storage logs to put her mind at ease. The alert had come in hours ago—kind of Xander to finally bring her the damn phone. She reached the archives from around the time period, watching zero activity for almost ten minutes.

  Then it happened.

  She rewound the loop, froze it when the figure came into the frame. A quick enhance and she inhaled a sharp breath. Brown hair or not, she’d know that face anywhere, that long frame. She tapped ‘play’ and the video moved forward. The man stood in the center of her living room, looking around. He pulled a phone from his pocket and held it to his ear before disappearing up the stairs.<
br />
  That was it. A couple seconds of activity, no more. He must have come and gone through that open window. Either way, Kizzie was left wondering how he’d found it.

  And, more importantly, what the hell Solomon Nevins was doing in her house.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later

  Japan

  Eighteen months since her last true binding, Kasumi’s skin begged for the tight ropes. Kinbaku was more than just bondage; it was the melding of geometry, flesh and knotted jute. It was beauty. It was art. No one could bind her like her Mistress.

  She wondered how she’d be tied today, hoping to be rewarded with her favorite, the prawn position. She received the most pleasure that way, but would enjoy any technique the Mistress thought best for her. A tiny smile tilted her lips, and she trembled at the memories from her times in this room.

  Another hour passed, and Kasumi meditated to calm her mind. The Mistress knew what she was doing, building the anticipation. This was all part of the reward for the ills suffered at the hands of Sacha, and for the deeds done for her Mistress.

  Finally, the translucent paper door slid open and the woman entered the room.

  “Kotenok.”

  Overcome with relief, Kasumi almost whimpered. Her Mistress’s voice wrapped around her making hot tears well up behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. A warrior did not cry. She could hardly speak, too overjoyed at returning to the home where she belonged.

  “Welcome back, pet.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.” She kept her head bowed, seeing only the hem of the red robe that brushed the tops of the other woman’s slender feet. Her Mistress stroked her hair, and Kasumi soaked up the attention.

  “Let us begin the lesson.”

  Yes, the lesson. The training she’d received in preparation for Sacha. Her Lady said she must be strong of mind and body. Kasumi had recited the lines and practiced the fighting stances day and night, and it paid off.

  She shifted onto her knees to be more accessible to her Domme. The lesson always began this way, and by its end she’d be covered with cords of knotted rope, the bamboo cane licking her skin, teasing her to heaven. She only had to repeat the words. She cleared her throat. “Courage, above all things, is the first quality of a warrior.”