Dead Reckoning

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Dead Reckoning Page 23

by Stanalei Fletcher


  Egan nodded, unable to say more.

  “So…We’ve finally agreed on something. Now, let’s see what we can do about bringing our girl home.”

  Egan took a deep breath. He couldn’t quite decide if it was of resignation or relief. All he knew was that he was suddenly glad Byron was on his side for this one.

  Chapter Twenty

  The car stopped, and Kellee heard a front door open. A moment later, the door next to her opened, and cool damp air brushed her skin. Someone lifted her legs and swung them to the side. She heard a metallic click and felt a slight tug on the plastic around her ankles, freeing her to walk. A hand, probably Marcos’, from the way beefy fingers gripped her just above her elbow, helped her out of the car. The sound of the door closing echoed off the walls. A faint scent of gasoline and car exhaust seeped through the cloth hood. She was almost certain they were in another parking garage.

  Egan was out there—somewhere in the city—searching for her. He’d never spot the black sedan inside a parking garage. He couldn’t have had time to get back to the rental car to follow them. She swallowed the bubble of fear. Dampness coated her palms, but she couldn’t wipe them dry with her wrists cuffed. She was alone, and had to figure a way out of this predicament on her own.

  A door squeaked, and she was ushered forward. The surface under her feet changed from concrete to carpet. Although her head was completely covered, it didn’t account for the lack of noise. No one had spoken since Nikolai tied her up. She wondered how he managed to escort her through a building, hands tied and a hood over her head, without drawing attention. Then she realized he must have a private entrance to his place. If no one saw her, then she was truly alone.

  She was pulled to a stop and couldn’t hold back the shiver that raced through her.

  Nikolai must have seen her tremble. “Not so much in control, are you, Katya?” he whispered near her ear.

  “The air-conditioning is cold.” It was a true enough statement. She wasn’t admitting to fear.

  He chuckled, proving he wasn’t buying her excuse. “Russia is colder, but I am confident you will come to love it, as I do.”

  Kellee tugged her arm to free herself, but the grip was still too tight. The distinctive ding of an arriving elevator sounded. A large hand at her back nudged her inside. The doors slid closed, and with an imperceptible jerk, the car started to rise.

  She lifted her chin, tried to think of something positive to see her through. Just the thought of that gun pointed at Egan would haunt her for a long time. She might be alone, but at least Egan was safe.

  The elevator slowed, then jerked to a stop and she heard the doors slide open. She was pushed forward out of the elevator. Nikolai removed the hood, and she blinked at the brightness. She found herself standing inside a penthouse room.

  “Welcome to my American hideaway,” he said. “Very luxurious, no? But do not get too comfortable. We will be here but for a short while.”

  Kellee stepped farther into the room. It opened up into a windowed wonderland decorated in cream and white. Except for the couches and chairs, everything seemed to be made of glass. Airy and brightly lit, the openness contradicted her limited mobility. She ignored the images of wealth and luxury and searched for exits, anyway to escape her captors. It appeared the only exits were through the elevator doors or those high-rise windows that offered a terrifying view of the stormy skies.

  Only as a last resort. No, scratch that. She’d find a way out of this situation without throwing herself off a balcony. Even if she ended up in Russia, she’d find a way home. Of that, she was committed.

  “Call Solonik,” Nikolai said to Marcos. “Tell him we leave in one hour. If he wants to live, then he must be here on time.”

  Marcos nodded, crossed into another room, and out of sight.

  Nikolai turned to Kellee. “This way.” He indicated an alcove on the opposite side of a spiral staircase that appeared to lead to an upper floor.

  She wondered if there was another exit up there, then dismissed the thought. Running, without any idea of how to get out of this place, was suicide. Her feet sank into the lush cream-colored carpet as she followed Nikolai into the ultra-modern office. He guided her to a white leather chair beside a gleaming glass desk, and continued around to sit across from her. Taking the pendant out of his pocket, he laid it on the desktop.

  “Are you going to keep me tied up all the way to Russia?” She turned so he could see her swollen hands.

  “Marcos,” Nikolai called.

  The giant bodyguard walked in, and spoke for the first time in a voice that came from his boots, “Solonik does not answer the phone.”

  “What do you mean?” Nikolai asked.

  Marcos shrugged. “No answer.”

  Nikolai frowned. “Try again in a few minutes. But first”—he gestured to Kellee—“make my daughter more comfortable.”

  Marcos’s eyes narrowed as though he wasn’t pleased with releasing her, but he flicked open a switchblade and sliced through the plastic cuff. “I watch you. Do not try anything.” He took up a post beside the staircase, effectively blocking any exit from the alcove.

  Blood rushed back into Kellee’s hands. Icy-hot pinpricks stabbed over and over. She bit her lower lip, resisting the urge to rub her wrists, refusing to let the pain show.

  Nikolai watched, making no move to console or help her. He pointed toward the windows and the view from almost three dozen floors up. “As you can see, there’s no place to run.”

  “I noticed.”

  “I am curious, Katya Nikolaia,” Nikolai said, appending his first name to her Russian name. “Why, after resisting all my previous attempts to bring you to me, you offered yourself like a sacrificial lamb?”

  “Your previous attempts were kidnapping. As is this.” She indicated Marcos before returning her gaze to Nikolai. “And my name isn’t Katya.”

  Nikolai tossed his head with a laugh. “And still such resistance!” He started to cough and had to clear his throat. “You are more like me than you realize, my dear daughter.”

  “I’m nothing like you.” Kellee picked up the pendant and shook it at him. “Katya Orlov is dead.” Nikolai tried to grab it, but she dodged his reach and smashed it down on the glass desktop. The metal beak on one of the eagle heads bit into her palm and pierced her skin. She lifted her hand off the pendant, away from the one tangible connection to her true birth. Blood welled at the base of her thumb from the puncture wound, but she folded her fingers over it to stanch the flow. In the subdued light from the desk lamp, the ruby eyes of the double-headed eagle winked mockingly at her.

  When she looked up at Nikolai, his attention was on the crest. His lips formed a tight line and he swallowed hard before he masked his reaction. He slowly turned his eyes on her. “What game do you play, child?”

  She studied him for a moment before answering. Maybe he wasn’t as uncaring about her as he acted. “How do you plan to smuggle me out of the country?”

  “You need not be concerned with the details. We are leaving. That is all you need to know.”

  He was giving away very little. She wanted more information, needing to play for time to get out this mess. Hoping Nikolai’s greed outweighed his desire for glory and power, she said, “What if I told you that you can have your prestige and freedom to conduct your business wherever and whenever you want?”

  “I would say, bravo!” He clapped his hands. “I expected you to bargain for your freedom and you did not disappoint me.”

  “I don’t bargain with things I can’t back up.” Kellee moistened her lips that had suddenly gone dry and spoke the one word she thought might save her. “Northstar.” Using Northstar was a gamble, but she had to try or she’d never see Egan again.

  Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “What about Northstar?”

  She briefly closed her eyes now that she had his attention. The betrayal she was contemplating ran as deep as Byron’s betrayal to her. Could she do it? Could she sell her soul to save h
er life? She opened her eyes to stare directly at Nikolai. “Byron sent one of his agents to find me. Do you think he won’t try again?”

  The Russian brushed the air with his hand. “It is of no matter. Within the hour, we leave this place. We return to our homeland. Byron O’Neal and his Northstar Security cannot touch me or you in Russia.”

  “By leaving here, you leave behind a wealth of information at Northstar Security. If you let me go, I can find anything you want.”

  Nikolai gave a derisive snort. “I do not deal. I would especially not trust anything that came from that traitor.”

  “You forget. It’s your blood that runs through my veins. If you don’t listen to me, you’ll fail in your attempt to be that Russian godfather.” Maintaining a semblance of confidence, she kept her voice steady. Now was not the time to show fear or doubt.

  Nikolai’s face grew contemplative. “You do take after your old man, little one. However, I cannot tell if that stubborn streak comes from me or from O’Neal.”

  “Neither,” she said.

  His eyes narrowed, then he looked at the clock on the side of his glass desk. Turning to Marcos, he said, “Try Solonik again.”

  Marcos nodded and with a warning glare at Kellee, he left the room.

  Nikolai stood and walked around the desk and stopped in front of her. “I will indulge your little fantasy for a few minutes. Tell me why I should listen to you, Katya?”

  Kellee didn’t retreat. Instead, she leaned into Nikolai’s space. To her surprise, he took a step back. “I told you, Katya is dead,” she said. “I stand here as Kellee O’Neal. You have a choice. Let me go. Leave me here, in the United States, and I will feed you information that will help your business dealings on American soil. Take me to Russia, and I’ll be nothing but a puppet. Wooden and silent.”

  He stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. “Your proposal is outrageous. I have the upper hand. You offer nothing.” He frowned. “I am sorry, my daughter, but your first statement was true. If you refuse to return with me to Russia, then you are dead. I will not allow O’Neal to keep that which is mine.” Nikolai didn’t move, but his expression was one of triumph.

  Kellee had anticipated Nikolai’s reaction, but to hear him speak with surety of her death made her a little faint. She swallowed and refocused on her objective. “If I die, your trip to the United States will have accomplished nothing.”

  “And yet, you expect me to believe that if I let you go, you will use Northstar’s resources to help my business ventures?”

  “You won’t have a business if I leave the country.” She picked up the pendant and twirled the chain around her finger. “And if I’m dead, then this is all that is left of your claim. You said it yourself; you need me to reestablish your power in the organization. Let me walk away, and I will serve you here.”

  Nikolai folded his arms, a sly smile on his dry lips. “Suppose, for entertainment’s sake, I agree to this nonsense. How do you know I will not come for you later? You cannot hide.”

  “Neither can you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Northstar’s assets are vast. Remember the agent who was sent to find me? He did so, without knowing where I was after the hurricane. You can’t begin to know what skills and resources that takes.” She unwound the pendant chain from her finger and slid it across the desk, deliberately scratching the surface of the shiny glass.

  “Enough.” Nikolai grabbed her shoulder and pulled her away from the desk. His wrinkled hands squeezed until she thought she’d buckle under the pressure, then he released her.

  Kellee sucked in air, unaware she’d been holding her breath.

  The old Russian slid a pistol out of his jacket and pointed it in her direction. “I tire of this game. You cannot do as you promise. There is something more you are not saying. Tell me or I will kill you myself, right now.”

  Kellee stared at the black hole in the barrel aimed at her head. Her heart raced as though it knew its time was at an end. “If you take me with you, you’ll be hunted even after you leave the country. As a private firm, Northstar Security has autonomy from government regulations.”

  “They do not scare me,” Nikolai said.

  “Northstar knows enough about your business to convince the authorities that you are a terrorist.”

  Nikolai paled, but held the pistol steady. “I am no terrorist.”

  “You think they need proof? You think because you’re on U.S. soil, you’ll get a trial?” She shook her head. “Terrorists, especially ones in the States illegally, can be held without warrant.” She pressed her point. “I met with you today in good faith. I simply wanted to know the truth surrounding my birth. Instead, you kidnapped me.” She glanced at Nikolai’s gun. “I demand my life back.”

  Nikolai pocketed the gun and tossed back his head with a laugh. “Only my daughter would have such courage to taunt the bear in his own den.”

  “No.” Kellee stood her ground. She couldn’t give up. “Not your daughter. Katya Orlov is dead.”

  He dismissed her claim with a wave of his hand and walked around the desk. “You certainly intrigue me, little one. I cannot believe you put your life in danger just to learn who fathered you. There’s something more you are not saying.” He picked up the pendant.

  Kellee eyed the glittering gems on the crest. She’d always felt comfort when touching the pendant. Now, it represented all the lies from her past. Lies she refused to perpetuate. “I spoke the truth when I said I wanted to understand my past. But I also want a future here and I can’t have that if I’m always running away.”

  Nikolai glanced beyond the alcove. “Yet you compromised O’Neal with your proposal.”

  “She certainly did.” O’Neal’s voice carried down from the staircase next to the alcove.

  Kellee looked up into the shadows of the spiral staircase to see her father standing on the steps. He held a gun in his hand, but it wasn’t raised to kill. “D…Dad?” Her voice faltered. Where had he come from?

  Marcos entered the room at that moment, pulled his gun and started toward O’Neal.

  Nikolai raised a hand. “Marcos. Wait. It seems Mr. O’Neal has been resourceful enough to invade our private sanctuary. He should at least hear how his daughter betrayed him.”

  Kellee realized Nikolai must have seen or suspected Byron’s approach and encouraged her to keep to talking. She felt sick inside. Everything was backfiring on her.

  “Byron O’Neal.” Nikolai’s smile grew wider as Byron descended the final steps. “How good of you to join us.” Nikolai glanced at Kellee. “I think there is more you are not saying—more than a desire to bargain for your freedom. I think you are protecting someone.”

  She looked between Byron and Nikolai. Her head bobbed in acknowledgement. Why was her father here? If he’d found her, then where was Egan?

  Nikolai continued. “The man you were with? The one who is not your boyfriend? Is he the reason you wish to keep your future here in the States?”

  “He is,” she admitted.

  “Ah!” Nikolai rubbed the pendant between his fingers. “And you did this, why?”

  “Because I love him.” The confession should have been only for Egan’s ears. However, baring her soul in front of these men didn’t diminish the power of the words.

  “A woman in love, eh?” Nikolai glanced at Byron. “It is difficult to reason with a woman in love, is it not, O’Neal?”

  Byron’s face remained impassive. Only his eyes moved, shifting with an assessing gaze between Nikolai, Marcos, and Kellee.

  Nikolai considered Kellee for a long moment. “How do I know you will keep your word? Explain how you will send secret information from Northstar to help my business?”

  She looked at Byron. A rush of heat filled her face. Nikolai was forcing her to face her betrayal. He wanted Byron to see how badly he was beaten. Not only had Nikolai stolen Kellee from him, she had compromised the integrity of his firm in a bargain for her release.

&n
bsp; Byron’s face was like a granite statue, revealing nothing. No glimmer of relief that he’d found her alive—however briefly. No hint of the rage he must feel at her duplicity.

  She squared her shoulders, eyes locked on the man who had raised her. “Dad…”

  From behind them, the elevator ding sounded and the doors opened. Everyone in the room turned as Oleg stepped into the penthouse.

  Kellee stared at the Russian who had followed her and Egan across the south. How had he gotten away? Egan had handed Oleg over to his friends to guard. With Oleg here, now there were three Russians against her and her father. The odds sucked. She turned to apologize to her father just as a shot rang out.

  Kellee instinctively recoiled and dropped to a knee. Byron was there, covering her with his body. To her side, Marcos slumped to the floor with a heavy thud, a grotesque hole where his eye should have been. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed to keep from throwing up. As the ringing in her ears cleared, Oleg crossed to the alcove, closing the distance.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” Oleg said with an ugly, triumphant smile on his face. “This is what you Americans call hitting the jackpot.”

  Nikolai stared at Marcos’ body, then glared at his henchman. “Oleg! You betray me?”

  With Nikolai’s attention elsewhere, Kellee wondered if she and Byron could make a run for it. One look at Oleg, and she didn’t dare try. He was positioned inside the alcove in such a way that a move from any of them would trigger their deaths. She’d seen enough death in the last few days.

  Byron whispered, “Don’t move.”

  Oleg shrugged in response to Nikolai’s question. “I like America. There is so much bounty. My takeover will be a…piece of pie, as they say.”

  “You bastard,” Nikolai said. “You will die for this.”

  “I am no more a bastard than you, Nikolai.” Oleg sneered. “You are an old man, living in the past. You move too slowly. Things change. I can make a hundred times more profit than doing business using your outdated ways.”

 

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