“And what about Solonik? He will not let you take over his American sector.”
Oleg smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “He will not complain—ever again.”
Nikolai stiffened. “You killed Solonik?”
“Solonik was stupid enough to put a tracker in the handle of my pistol.” Oleg’s laugh was harsh, without humor. “He sent Petre to retrieve your lovely daughter and look what happened. I have the right to take revenge for my brother’s death.” Oleg gave Kellee a brief smirk. “Your boyfriend thought he was so clever to have his friends lock me up. The moment they left, Solonik freed me. Then the bastard died for his effort.”
The air around Kellee seemed to drop ten degrees.
She’d killed a man, starting a chain of events that led to this moment. She couldn’t blame Oleg for wanting revenge. Yet, in contrast, Egan didn’t run around killing people to get justice for the loss of his brother.
“I had nothing to do with Solonik’s decision to send Petre,” Nikolai said. “Solonik should have waited until I arrived. My daughter was protecting herself.”
Oleg grunted, unimpressed with Nikolai’s defense of Kellee. He waved his gun at her. “I could have killed your precious daughter two days ago. But I wanted to see your face when she died. How sweet that both you and O’Neal will watch as I take my final revenge on my brother’s killer. And then, Nikolai Orlov, I will give you the satisfaction of watching O’Neal die before I kill you.” Oleg’s hatred of Nikolai was almost tangible. He extended the pistol toward Kellee—and his finger tightened over the trigger.
Chapter Twenty-One
Egan finished clearing the loft that comprised the third floor to Nikolai’s Miami penthouse. His buddies were waiting in a room off the hotel lobby and would lead the charge with the FBI, but not until O’Neal gave the “all clear” signal. Which hadn’t come yet. Egan texted Jason and Donny the code to the elevator. The same code provided by Dr. Kosov to get Egan and Byron into the upstairs rooms of the penthouse without alerting Nikolai to their presence.
Dr. Kosov had been O’Neal’s ace in the hole—their way inside the penthouse. O’Neal had received the doctor’s call yesterday, and arranged to have Nikolai’s penthouse watched. Then today, O’Neal persuaded the doctor to sneak him and Egan inside using the service elevator. So far, the plan had worked.
It took every ounce of discipline not to rush down the staircase behind O’Neal. When they’d entered the penthouse, he’d been prepared to go in, guns blazing. Byron had insisted on clearing the rooms above before storming the lower floor where Kosov said Nikolai had Kellee. As hard as the delay had been, clearing the upper floor of the penthouse was the right thing to do, and Egan had done it quickly.
Sweat collected under his collar. Not knowing what was happening below ate at him. He knew Kellee was down there. He heard voices, but the conversation was muddled and indistinguishable.
With the last room cleared, Egan had secured the doctor in the loft, told him to stay put, and headed down the spiral staircase that led to the second floor before continuing on to the penthouse main floor.
He was at the top of the spiral staircase when a shot rang out. Egan froze, slowed his breathing, and tamped down the urge to rush those last few steps. After the echo of the shot died, the voices below were clearer now. His blood chilled when he heard Oleg speak. He was supposed to be locked up. How had he gotten free?
“I will give you the satisfaction of watching O’Neal die before I kill you, Nikolai Orlov.”
Egan silently descended the final steps and rounded the turn toward the alcove in time to see Oleg raise his gun. It didn’t matter who Oleg was taking aim at, Egan brought up his pistol and fired.
****
Two shots rang out. One shot sounded within milliseconds after the other, and Kellee reacted on instinct, shoving Byron away. A white-hot razor burned across her arm. The room spun, and she sank to the floor.
“Kellee!” Byron shouted.
The scent of gunpowder hung over the room like a shroud.
She sat up slowly. Alive. She was alive, having dodged a bullet. Literally. When she looked up, the first thing she saw was Byron hovering beside her, with his gun at the ready. Then Egan rushed across the room.
“Kellee! Are you okay?” Egan asked as he knelt next to her.
She gave a slight grimace and nodded. She clutched her arm where blood seeped between her fingers and onto her sweater. But Egan was here and he was alive. Byron was alive. Nothing else mattered. At the alcove entrance, Oleg lay in a heap. Dead.
“Put down your gun, Nikolai,” Byron O’Neal said as he stood, his weapon steadily pointed in Nikolai’s direction.
Nikolai gave a resigned nod and placed his pistol on the glass desktop, next to the pendant. Byron crossed to the desk, picked up the gun, and slid it inside his pocket.
Kellee let out a sigh of relief. It was over. She was safe. More importantly, Egan had found her. From behind, he wrapped his arms around her and helped her stand. They walked to a couch where she sank into the deep cushions. Her head spun with all that had just happened.
“Dr. Kosov,” Byron called. His gaze shifted between Nikolai and the stairs as a tall, skinny man came into view.
“Y…yes?” The doctor’s tentative voice floated into the alcove.
“Please bring your bag. We have an injury that needs attention.” The doctor headed back up the stairs. He returned a moment later with his bag, and Byron pointed toward Kellee.
Her father had trusted Egan to find her and keep her safe. The former SEAL had done his job well. But Byron’s frown told Kellee he probably wanted to lock her in her room and throw away the key.
Byron’s gaze shifted to Egan holding her hand while the doctor examined her arm. “What took you so long?”
Egan didn’t take his eyes off her. “There was a third floor to clear.” His voice was tight as though he held Byron responsible for getting her shot.
Byron nodded and paled a little as though he realized how badly things could have gone had Egan not been delayed. If Egan had arrived sooner, he would have been in the crossfire, too. His late arrival saved all their lives.
Kellee winced when the doctor started to clean her wound. “Go easy on her, Doc,” Byron said, then turned his attention to Nikolai who simply sat in his chair, defeated.
“So, it was the doctor who let you inside?” Nikolai asked.
“Yes.” Byron settled into the chair in front of Nikolai’s desk.
Nikolai nodded. “If Dr. Kosov had come to you first with his request to return to Russia, none of this would have happened, would it?”
“True,” Byron said.
“Ah, but I could get the good doctor to Russia without all that messy paperwork.” Nikolai’s smile held a hint of the old KGB agent.
Byron ran a hand through his hair and looked over at Dr. Kosov, who ignored their discussion. He was almost finished with Kellee’s bandages. “I’ll call in some favors to see that he gets to his sister’s home in time. I owe him that much.”
Nikolai stood, crossed to a mini bar, and returned with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. He put them on the desk, then looked at Byron. “Care to pour?”
Byron opened the bottle and poured two shots. He slid one of the glasses toward Nikolai. “Kellee is my daughter. Yelena signed papers giving me and Katherine custody in case anything happened to her. Kellee’s adoption is all legal and aboveboard.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed, as though he didn’t believe O’Neal, then he shrugged. “I suppose that is for the best, considering the situation.” He lifted his glass. “To Yelena and Kat—Kellee.”
“To Yelena and Kellee,” Byron repeated.
Neither man took a drink.
Nikolai’s gaze drifted to Oleg’s body. His flat, angry stare said more than any words at the betrayal of his own man. Then he lifted his glass toward Byron again. “To the old days, when we knew who our real enemies were and to the demise of old foes.”
&
nbsp; Byron gave a slight nod. “I think I can drink to that.”
They didn’t clink their glasses together, but each downed the shot of vodka and set the empty glass on the desk.
Kellee stared at the men. “I don’t understand either of you. How can you toast each other?” She glanced at Egan who looked as confused as she felt.
“A man must rethink his fate when he is given a second chance,” Nikolai explained to her. “Especially at my age.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Besides, dear Kellee, even though my blood runs through your veins, I fear it is O’Neal’s spirit in your heart.”
At that moment, she realized Nikolai was right. She was an O’Neal. Not through birth, but through choice. “Yes,” she whispered, feeling a cold rush along her skin. And she’d sold out the man who raised her.
Nikolai stood.
Beside her, Egan tensed and reached for the gun he’d stuffed in his belt.
Nikolai raised his hands and dangled the pendant between his fingers. Egan didn’t relax his vigil, but he didn’t raise his weapon either.
The old Russian crossed to the couch and secured the pendant around Kellee’s neck. His palms came to rest on her shoulder, and he gazed into her eyes. “I am sorry you could not have done as you promised.”
Kellee opened her mouth to deny any promise, but she couldn’t stomach any more lies. She touched the pendant, torn between throwing it back at the Russian and treasuring it for the symbol of all she’d been through these last few days. She left it on.
Nikolai continued, “I could see in your eyes that you are not capable of deceit. Besides, I have known O’Neal for a great many years. He would not allow you, or anyone, to compromise his code. But…it is enough for me that you tried.” He straightened and looked over at Byron. “What now?”
Byron’s steely gaze encompassed them all, then settled back on Nikolai. “Now you pay for your crimes.” He pulled out a cell phone.
“Da. As I expected.” He turned back to Kellee. “Go safely to your new life, Kellee O’Neal. But be warned, there may be others who wish to take what is mine.” He looked at both Byron and Egan in turn. “If a hair on her head is harmed…” Nikolai’s face grew even more serious. “I will find a way to hold you accountable.”
Egan’s arm tightened around Kellee’s waist. “Nothing will happen to her.”
Minutes later, the penthouse filled with plainclothes agents. Nikolai was taken into custody and the doctor was detained for questioning. To Kellee, the entire scene felt like something out of a spy movie.
Egan greeted his fellow SEAL teammates, and they learned that Solonik had followed Donny and Jason when they took Oleg from the docks to the storage shed. When Solonik freed Oleg, Oleg killed him. With both their deaths, and Nikolai in custody, it seemed this faction of the Russian Mafia was finally out of business.
Egan, Kellee, and Byron stepped into the elevator and descended to the first floor. No one spoke on the way down. If Byron hadn’t been hovering like a mother hen, she would have thrown her arms around Egan and kissed him senseless. Instead, she reined in her impulse. She knew she had more hurdles to cross before she’d have her time alone with Egan. She sensed nothing would be discussed until they were completely away from Nikolai’s penthouse and the chaos of his arrest.
They walked out of the hotel and a wall of overwhelming humidity hit them. The rain had stopped, leaving heavy overcast skies. Sweat trickled down her neck and soaked into the fabric of her dress. She desperately wanted to be alone with Egan, but first, she had to know where she stood with her family. Especially now that she’d betrayed Byron’s trust. Her negotiation with Nikolai had compromised her father and everything he stood for.
Egan guided her toward a black SUV, opened the backseat door, and helped her inside. He turned to Byron. “I expect you know a place to debrief, so you can drive.” Then he slid in beside her.
The ride was quiet. No one, it seemed, wanted to talk. Kellee was bursting with questions, with a need to say something, but the somber expressions on both Byron and Egan’s faces prevented her from even opening her mouth.
Ten minutes later, Byron drove into a hotel lobby entrance. Her father got out, as did Egan, who helped Kellee from the backseat. Byron and Egan conversed quietly for a moment, then Egan took the keys, climbed back inside the car and pulled away from the hotel entrance.
Kellee suspected her father had asked Egan for some privacy, but she was afraid she’d never see him again. She moved to follow Egan.
Byron stopped her. “Come with me.” He gestured to the doors.
She gave the retreating SUV a longing glance before following her father into the hotel and to another elevator.
When they reached the room, he slid a key card through the lock, which clicked unnaturally loud in the quiet hallway. He ushered her inside a two-room suite, and after closing the door behind them, she braced for the onslaught of a reprimand.
Instead, there was silence. She glanced at her father.
He stood there, in the entryway, looking at her as though he’d seen a ghost. “Thank God,” he whispered. “You’re alive.” He pulled her into his arms. His embrace felt awkward and possessive.
Her throat closed, choked with tears, as she felt a wealth of emotion pour off him like rain from an overflowing gutter. His body trembled with quiet weeping. Just when she thought he would release her, he crushed her against him again, careful to avoid her bandaged arm. Holding her even tighter than before.
“Dad,” she whispered. “I’m okay. It’s okay.” This wasn’t how she expected their confrontation to play out.
Gradually, her father relaxed his hold. He wiped his eyes and visually examined her from head to toe, running his hands along her arms. Checking her wound.
“See, I’m fine,” she repeated. “I don’t even feel it because of the shot the doctor gave me.”
“I’ve been so worried,” O’Neal said. “Ever since the storm, I’ve been out of my mind. We couldn’t find you. Then we discovered that man in your apartment. When Maddox called…” He took a breath. “I expected the worst.”
“I didn’t mean to worry anyone,” Kellee said. “I should have tried to call you, first. But once I got my memories back, I had to get to the truth.”
“Your memories?” Byron ran a hand through his graying hair. “You’d better back up a bit and explain.”
“Can we sit down?” She walked over to a couch in a sitting area. “I have a lot to tell you.”
Byron stared at her for a moment, then crossed to a chair facing her. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Start at the beginning.”
She swallowed and started with the incident where Petre had died in her apartment. She continued, leaving out nothing. Although heat flooded her cheeks when she mentioned the nightmare that triggered her memories, she didn’t share the part when Egan had made love to her. That wasn’t for her father’s ears. If he guessed something had happened between her and Egan, he kept it to himself.
When she finished, he stood and exhaled as though he’d been the one who’d lived through the horrendous events of the last week. “I guess it’s long past time we had a talk.” He glanced at his watch, then walked over to the courtesy bar. “Egan’s giving us some privacy, but he’s not a patient man.” Byron screwed the top off a bottled water and took a long swallow
Kellee’s heart leapt with relief and hope. Egan was coming back. But Byron was right, there was more to discuss. She set aside her feelings about Egan and focused on fixing her relationship with her father. “Why did you and Mom lie to me all these years?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kellee felt as though the couch—the entire hotel room—was shaking, when in reality, it was her own trembling that she couldn’t stop. It was hard, calling her parents liars, but she wanted—needed—the truth.
At her question about the lies, O’Neal’s hand froze in the act of lifting the water. His face lost a bit of color and his lips thinned.
“Please.
Don’t deny it.” She couldn’t take it if he offered more lies.
He tipped the bottle to his lips and took a sip before answering. “Egan told me how you found out.”
“Do you know how betrayed I felt? I’ve been cheated from knowing my true identity.”
O’Neal paled even more, and for a moment, she thought he was going to be sick. “Kellee, please…”
“How do you think I felt going to sleep one night as Kellee O’Neal, daughter of the upstanding Northstar Security Firm director, and waking up the next morning as Katya Orlov, daughter of an ex-KGB agent who is the head of the Russian Mafia?”
“I can explain—”
“I hope so,” she interrupted. “Every truth I once knew has been shattered.”
“You should have been told sooner.” Byron paused as if he realized he had this one chance to get it right, and if he screwed up she’d walk out on him forever. “You never should have found out about your past from strangers.”
“Why did you keep it from me?”
“I didn’t do it deliberately.” He put his bottle down and gestured an appeal. “Let me explain.”
Here it comes, she thought. The truth. Delivered from the man she’d trusted all her life. There was no going back to her previous life. Her stomach grew cold, and she had a sudden urge to run from the room, to pretend it wasn’t real. But she’d come this far, and couldn’t back out now. She clenched her hands in her lap to stop trembling.
Byron’s face was serious, his eyes dark with unspoken anguish. It hurt to see the man who’d raised her, a man who’d helped hundreds of people through hardships, both personally and professionally, suffer, as he seemed to be right now.
But she hurt too. Until the pain was out in the open, there would be no going forward—no healing. For either of them.
Byron picked up his bottle and swallowed the last of the water, then returned to his place on the chair across from her. “Katherine and I were in the CIA when you were born. For security reasons, I’m not at liberty to tell you everything we did. I can tell you we handled a case where a young woman defected from the Soviet Union. Her name was Yelena Orlov. Nikolai’s wife.”
Dead Reckoning Page 24