Dead Reckoning

by Stanalei Fletcher

  Egan draped her sweater over her shoulders. He took her hand and they walked toward the far end of the mall. “Then, sweet Kellee, the rest is up to you.”

  The plan was in motion—there was no turning back. The magnitude of what she was about to do settled over her like a shroud.

  She loved Egan. But she was forcing him to face a Russian Mafia crime boss. What if something went wrong? Her heart stuttered at the thought. Nikolai wanted her alive, but did he even care about anyone else? What if Egan was killed, just as those other men had been killed by Oleg—all because of her?

  Kellee and Egan neared an area with benches as another cloud passed, blocking the sunshine. This cloud was larger than the first and changed the atmosphere in the elegant mall’s tropical wonderland. Noises echoed less. People spoke in muted voices. The outdoor mall began to empty as shoppers left to avoid the impending storm.

  Egan headed toward a secluded corner. There were two exits nearby, one leading to the parking garage. Across a stretch of open space, another exit led to the outside parking.

  They were still in a public place, however the corner allowed for some privacy and passersby couldn’t easily eavesdrop on a private conversation. A hotel room or quiet restaurant table might have been better suited for the meeting, but there had already been so many deaths surrounding Nikolai’s attempt to find her. She hoped this setting would discourage any thought of an all-out gunfight.

  They crossed to a marble bench that looked more like a sculpture than a place to rest after a long day of shopping. Taking her arm, Egan urged her to sit under the palms. After a moment, a man dressed in a dark suit walked out of the men’s clothing shop on the opposite side of the walkway and approached them.

  Kellee guessed he was in his sixties. Yet his iron-gray hair and dry lips made him seem older. His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he’d been crying. About ten feet behind him, followed a larger man wearing an ill-fitted suit. He had a thick neck like a pro football player.

  “Shit,” Egan whispered.

  “What?”

  “Nikolai brought muscle.” Egan squared his shoulders and drilled the bodyguard with a cold stare.

  “Should we leave?”

  Egan looked at her. “Your call. I don’t like it, but this might be your one chance to get what you want.”

  She glanced between Nikolai and the big man, unhappy that Nikolai wasn’t alone. But then, neither was she—she’d brought Egan. “I need to do this,” she said and scooted a little closer to Egan. She gave the older man a half-hearted smile.

  As Nikolai approached, she studied his face, searching for anything that identified him as her biological father. There was nothing remotely familiar. Instead of recognition, she felt a glacier of ice in the pit of her stomach that made her wish she hadn’t eaten the pie.

  She rose when Nikolai was about ten feet from them. Egan stood beside her, and she reached for his hand. Strong fingers wrapped tightly around hers. Warmth ascended her arm and melted the glacier a little.

  “I do not see Oleg.” The older Russian looked beyond them. His bodyguard, a few feet to their right, stopped and clasped his hands in front.

  “Oleg is being detained for now. He’ll be questioned for the murder of the two men back in the Little Landing.”

  The guard shifted uncomfortably, but Nikolai nodded in understanding. “Both Oleg and Solonik must pay for what they did.” He then turned his gaze on Kellee. “Yelena.” he whispered.

  Kellee barely heard him above the background noise in the mall. Oleg had called her Katya. Yelena was the name Petre had used for the woman in the picture.

  “You are the image of your mother.” Emotion seemed to clog Nikolai’s voice, making his Russian accent heavy and hard to understand.

  Kellee opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She could only stare.

  “I would have known you even without the Royal Crest.” He stepped next to her and reached out his hand. “May I?” he asked.

  Royal Crest? Kellee glanced at Egan. How had he known her pendant would mean something to the Russian? His face gave away nothing as he watched every movement Nikolai made.

  She released Egan’s hand and unlatched the necklace. She held it in her palm, the sudden significance making it feel heavier. Holding her palm open, she let Nikolai take the pendant. Dry, cracked fingertips scraped like sandpaper against her skin.

  Nikolai studied the double-headed eagle. Rubbed it between his fingers, as if sensing its intrinsic value. He licked his lips and a gleam entered his eyes. Clearly, this was more than a piece of jewelry to him. It must carry importance Kellee could not guess. She stepped closer, and he glanced up. Nikolai’s eyes looked exactly like her own.

  The woman she’d known as her mother had never quite explained the mystery of Kellee’s brown eyes. Both her brother and Byron had green eyes. Katherine’s eyes had been blue. “The pendant, was it my mother’s?”

  “Da,” he said. “Come. I will show you.” He reached inside his jacket.

  Egan shifted behind her, and she glanced over to see the butt of a pistol under his hand. Where had that come from? She hadn’t realized he’d been carrying a weapon all this time. He tilted his head toward the pistol, showing Nikolai that he’d use it if he had to.

  She looked back at Nikolai and noticed the bodyguard had taken two steps closer. His hand had slipped under the flap of his jacket.

  Nikolai paused and eyed Egan warily. “Marcos.” Nikolai raised his other hand to halt the bodyguard. Marcos stopped moving, but his gaze never left Egan. “I wish to show her a picture,” Nikolai explained.

  She turned to Egan. “It’s okay.”

  Nikolai produced a tattered-edged photograph. His hand shook as he held it out to her. She stepped closer and stared, hesitant to take the picture from him. Would accepting it mean accepting him?

  No. It was her choice. Not his.

  Taking the edges of the photograph between her fingers, Kellee studied the details. Creases marred the black-and-white surface, making the image hard to discern, as though trying to see through a spider’s web. The woman was the same as in the photograph Petre had shown her. She felt as though she was staring in a mirror back through time. She handed Egan the photograph. “What do you think? Could this be my mother?”

  Egan took the photograph in one hand while the other remained at the ready on his gun. He examined the picture for a long moment and then looked up at Kellee. “She looks a little like Katherine,” he said. “But her resemblance to you is uncanny. And she’s wearing the pendant.”

  Her breath escaped with a sigh and moisture gathered at the corner of one eye. The possibility of this moment had haunted her since her memory had returned. The emotions she’d imagined she would feel didn’t come close to the devastating reality.

  Learning the facts should have freed her. Instead, all the truths she’d believed while growing up, crumbled at her feet. Walls of identity that secured her from the outside world evaporated in a single instant, and she was stripped of everything familiar. She stood before the world, naked and alone.

  Her entire life—a lie.

  With trembling fingers, Kellee took the picture from Egan and stared harder at the woman’s face. A fierce desire to know more burned inside her. Why had this woman separated from the man who’d fathered her child? Where was she now? Why had she abandoned Kellee?

  What circumstances had brought Kellee to this vast chasm in her life?

  She had intended to get answers at this meeting. Now she wasn’t sure she had the strength to hear what Nikolai would tell her. Wordlessly, she handed the picture back to him.

  “Nyet.” He waved his hand. “You may keep it.”

  Kellee gripped the edge of the photo. It was a link to a past she didn’t understand, but a link she couldn’t let go. “Tell me about her.”

  “You look much like her. Beautiful, regal. I should have been there for her. I did not know she carried my child.”

  Kellee’s heart lurc
hed. “What happened? Where is she?”

  Nikolai reached inside his pocket again. From the corner of her eye, she saw Egan’s hand tighten on his weapon.

  Marcos, once again, reached under his jacket. Nikolai slowly withdrew a handkerchief, waving it like a white flag.

  Egan relaxed his hand slightly, but not his guard.

  Marcos resumed his stance.

  Nikolai blew his nose, then tucked the handkerchief away. “I was told she died giving birth to you.”

  A bolt of lightning shattered the gloom inside the mall. Two seconds later, thunder shuddered along the tiled walls.

  Kellee jumped at the sound—at Nikolai’s words piercing her soul. By being born, she had killed her biological mother. A tremor of sadness rolled through her, mimicking the echoing thunder.

  She took a step backward and found Egan’s solid form at her back. A warm hand closed over her shoulder, chasing away the sudden chill. He led her to the bench and sat beside her.

  Nikolai also crossed to the bench and sat on her other side. His bodyguard followed, taking a position slightly behind. Nikolai patted the back of her hand. “You see, Katya, you are all I have left.”

  She stared at him, not fully comprehending what he’d said. “Why did you send her away?” she asked. “Why weren’t you with her?”

  He frowned. “You do not understand. She left me.”

  “Why?”

  “She requested asylum in America.”

  “She defected?”

  Nikolai nodded.

  “The cold war,” Kellee whispered. “I was born during the cold war.” A small piece of the puzzle fell into place.

  “Your father, he worked—”

  “—for the CIA.” She glanced at Egan. They’d discussed this a couple of days ago.

  Egan slid closer to her. “Byron must have been there when you were born.”

  “That bastard O’Neal stole her from me!” Nikolai’s voice took on a hard edge. “He had no right to take my daughter.”

  “He was obviously protecting an innocent child,” Egan said.

  “The baby should have been returned to her rightful home.”

  “The Soviet Union? A place her mother—your wife—didn’t want to live,” Egan continued. “O’Neal surely felt duty-bound to carry out your wife’s wishes. To raise the child as his own was his only option.”

  Kellee’s head swiveled between the men as they argued. This was her life they were discussing. Hers. And it was time for her to show it. She slipped the photograph into the pocket of her sweater and held out her arms, palms up. “Stop! Stop it, both of you.”

  She stood and walked away from the bench. The openness of the mall disappeared. Walls seemed to close in around her.

  Egan stood, as did Nikolai. Squaring off like gunfighters, neither man moved for a moment. Marcos remained in his position, watching the entire scene.

  Then Egan deliberately stepped between Kellee and Nikolai. His broad shoulders radiated safety and comfort while she tried to assimilate all the information.

  Ignoring both men, she turned her back and stared unseeing at the walls and fashion shops. She wasn’t an orphan. She had family. A bubble of hysteria threatened to burst out of her. She had two sets of parents. Both of her mothers were dead. It was a horrible, sick dream and she wanted to wake up.

  “How did you know O’Neal was CIA?” Egan asked Nikolai, intruding into Kellee’s thoughts.

  She faced them again, and the old man looked directly at her.

  “Because I was KGB. We were enemies.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Slate thunderheads darkened the mall’s pathways, sucking the energy completely from surrounding shops. Everything Kellee knew of her life seemed to drain away with the light, leaving a dark void of confusion and heartache.

  Nikolai Orlov, her Russian father, was KGB.

  Her head spun at the revelation. She struggled for air and began to pace back and forth to keep from passing out.

  KGB.

  Even in her lifetime, those three letters brought dread to hearts of Russians and Americans alike. The KGB had been vanquished, hadn’t they? The Soviet Union was history. Yet Nikolai still claimed to be a spy?

  Before she could ask any questions, Egan spoke. “And what do you do now, Nikolai?” His penetrating stare speared the Russian. “What can you offer Kellee, but a life of violence?”

  “I am a businessman,” Nikolai answered, as though his declaration was enough to quash Egan’s accusations. “My capitalist enterprises have been extremely profitable.”

  Egan scoffed. “We’ve seen the results of your business. It nearly killed the woman you’re claiming as your daughter.”

  Nikolai stepped toward Kellee, an expression of contrition on his face that somehow didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I am aware of what happened on the docks. My rival, Solonik, sent those men to kidnap you. He wished to use you as leverage against me. You were very brave, my child. I am proud to be your father.”

  Kellee stopped pacing. This couldn’t be happening. Any moment she’d wake up, and the nightmare would end. Egan would be holding her, keeping her warm and safe.

  Instead, cold air rushed down her neck, proving she was indeed awake. The nightmare was all too real. This man, a former Russian spy, was her biological father. Byron O’Neal and Nikolai Orlov were both men with secrets. Particularly the man who’d raised her. When she saw Byron again, he had some explaining to do.

  Nikolai was no better. In the few short minutes since they’d met, she’d sensed he was keeping something from her, too. But what? And why?

  Nikolai held out his hand. “Come with me, Katya. I have more of your mother’s things to show you. We will get to know one another. You will be happy to stay with me.”

  “No!” replied Egan. Kellee looked at him in surprise. His eyes locked with hers. “We aren’t going.”

  “Ah, but Katya is.”

  Moving faster than she could react, Nikolai seized Kellee’s arm and yanked her against him. A gun appeared in his hand pointed straight at Egan’s chest. Marcos closed in, blocking Egan’s attempt to reach her, armed with same type of pistol.

  “Let me go!” Kellee struggled against Nikolai’s wiry strength.

  Egan drew his weapon, but kept the barrel aimed low. He held his other hand up. “Stand down, Donny. They’re both armed.”

  Donny? Egan’s friend Donny was here? Kellee glanced around the gloomy mall. At first, she didn’t see anyone, then, from the shadows of a far corner, a man dressed in cargo shorts and a gray button-down shirt stepped into view. Like Egan, the gun in his hand was pointed downward, but that didn’t detract from the lethal expression on the man’s face.

  “A friend of yours?” Nikolai asked Egan.

  “Teammates.” This came from another man, stepping out of same store Nikolai and Marcos had come from earlier. He was similarly dressed like Donny and held a gun like Egan’s.

  Marcos shifted. His face was alert and his gun sighting between Egan, Donny, and the third man.

  “This doesn’t have to get ugly,” Egan said. “Let Kellee go. No one will get hurt.”

  “I think not.” Despite appearing old and weak, Nikolai held her fast. His weapon shifted from Egan to her.

  Marcos took a cue from Nikolai and pointed his pistol at Egan.

  Kellee’s knees wobbled, and she struggled for balance. All Marcos had to do was pull the trigger and Egan would die.

  Nikolai’s fingers bit into the flesh on her upper arm. “Please, Katya, do not fight me.” The cold metal of his gun pressed against her neck.

  “You can’t do this,” she said. “I have my own life.”

  Nikolai let go of her arm but kept her body locked against his. “Nyet,” he growled near her ear. “You belong to me.” He dangled the pendant near her face. “This proves the blood in your veins is mine.”

  “The pendant.” She stared at the double-headed eagle crest pendant. “My mother gave that to me on my eighteenth bi
rthday.”

  “It was your birth mother’s, not Katherine O’Neal’s. This belonged to Yelena’s mother and to her mother before that.” He held it closer to her face. “Yelena was my wife, and this crest proves you are my daughter. And now, I will take you away from Byron O’Neal. I have bested the bastard on his own soil.”

  With Nikolai’s words, she realized how futile her attempt had been to manage her own fate. He didn’t want to be her father. He wanted to show the world that he could reclaim her as easily as taking a toy from a child. He wanted vengeance on Byron O’Neal.

  “You are defeated,” Nikolai said to Egan. “You cannot pull the trigger fast enough to prevent my bullet from killing her.”

  As Nikolai spoke, he and Marcos positioned themselves between the parking garage exit and Egan and his teammates. Nikolai began backing up, dragging Kellee along with him. Marcos followed, his gun still pointed at Egan.

  She couldn’t believe this was happening. Marcos would kill Egan to stop him from following if she didn’t do something to protect him. As long as she stayed alive, there was hope. But she didn’t want to go on living if Egan was dead. She needed a distraction.

  If Nikolai knew what had happened on the docks, then he might expect her to attempt an escape. If she tried to do it now and made a mistake, it would mean Egan’s life. She couldn’t take that risk. She must keep Egan safe. Even if it meant giving in. “Don’t hurt Egan,” she said to Nikolai. “If you let him go, I won’t give you any trouble.”

  “Kellee…” Egan said.

  Nikolai twisted her around to face him. “You expect me to believe you would come willingly?” His eyes were wide with disbelief. His gun pointed in her face. “You are too much like your mother. When she defected, I lost my position within the Party and the KGB.” His face flushed and his nostrils flared. “Sent to prison to suffer for her crimes. After all these years, I will be exonerated. Now that I have stolen you from O’Neal, my status will rise among other organizations.”

  She blocked out the image of the dark barrel pointed at her eye and stared at Nikolai. “Keep the pendant. You don’t need me for proof.”