Halfway down, he said, “Natalia, have your driver meet us a half block down at the eastern edge of the hospital after he loses any possible trail first. Have him park in front of the fire hydrant.”
Hearing Natalia get on the call, Sander guided the group down the flights until they came to a landing with two doors. He went right, entered another code into the keypad, and walked them through a series of tunnels that led to a flight of stairs leading to street level.
“Go through first and make sure no one is on the other side of the door,” Sander told one of the guards. The man disappeared after Sander entered yet another code, allowing a slice of waning sunlight to pierce the dim tunnel.
“All clear,” the guard called.
Sander led the group onto the street, squinting at the harsh glare that made his eyes water. A limousine waited at the curb. Without hesitation, he crossed the pavement and got in, followed by Natalia, Krislin and the guards.
“Where to, Dare?” Natalia asked.
He cited an address in the city. It was an unknown stronghold for emergencies just like this, a place only he and a choice few knew of. “Where's Mattias? Why didn't he stop Paavo before things got this far?”
“No one can find Mattias, and he's not answering his phone,” Natalia said.
Resting his head against the seat, Sander let talk of Mattias go. He knew what it meant when his brother went off the grid following Mattias's last known location. They would be lucky to hear from Mattias for another three to four days.
What poor timing for them all.
Chapter Twelve
The helicopter ride proved to be helpful in ways Chey hadn't expected; passing over the landscape of Latvala late afternoon of the previous day, she'd witnessed firsthand the scope of Paavo's meddling. Troops on the ground defined themselves with long lines of military vehicles and roadblocks, easily seen from the air. She had counted no less than five large encampments in open areas, away from big and small cities. She knew without being told that they were beholden to Paavo's cause, the men and women devoted to making his vision of a divided Latvala become a reality. Sick at heart, Chey had filed away the information for later use.
It was no surprise when Paavo's holding came into view, nor her transfer to the castle. She'd gone quietly, without a fight, taking personal notes along the way. There were more guards in place than were there on her prior visit, both inside and out, as if Paavo expected backlash.
Led up to a room on the third floor, she'd paced the entire night, unable to rest. The room itself was as lavish and well decorated as any at the family seat, with gilded furniture, large oil paintings and a king sized bed covered in a pretty duvet of creams and pinks. A room fit for a Queen.
The pale glow of early morning had given way to the brighter yellow-orange of mid-afternoon and still Chey paced. Her back hurt, her stomach felt tight, and her eyelids burned with the need for sleep. Bracing her hands at the base of her spine for extra support, she paused next to a window, again, and stared out at the terrain. From this vantage, she could see part of the surrounding wall and miles of countryside. Rows upon rows of tents lined uncountable acres on Paavo's property, stretching into the distance. She'd seen them from air, knew they were military encampments. It had been one more sign of Paavo's planning and organization. Here in the back country, with the nearest town miles and miles away, the Prince had the time, space and funds to expand the empire he meant to steal. She imagined this was the first place those loyal to Paavo came, and the place they left after training, spreading out through the regions to do his bidding.
She scanned the sky, hoping to see an incoming helicopter.
Nothing. No one was coming.
Not yet.
She wondered what happened to Sander. Wondered if he was still alive. Yes, of course he's still alive, she argued with herself. Going down a melancholy road would not help her now. She needed to stay strong and optimistic. Paavo wouldn't dare kill Sander in his sleep.
If she had a television, she might have some idea what else the new sitting King was up to. Of course there was none, not even a radio to play music by.
After another thirty minutes, legs aching from standing for so many hours, she relented and sat down in a plush chair. A twinge through her belly jerked her upright just as she started to relax. Panic surfaced at the thought of going into labor here, of all places.
Within a half an hour, the pain abated, leaving her drained and exhausted emotionally as well as physically. Propping her feet on an ottoman, she forced herself to rest.
In the down time, she plotted ways to escape.
. . .
The two story structure situated in downtown Kalev sat within its own protective, walled barrier. Made to blend in with its surroundings, the pale facade sported no house-like elements nor did it appear to be a business anyone would want to frequent. In short, people passed it by for its nondescript qualities, uninterested in what lay beyond the iron gate.
Sander instructed the driver to pull into the attached garage and sent two guards ahead to scout the building through a connecting door. It meant giving up the password, but passwords could be changed. He followed behind with Natalia and Krislin at either side, both insisting on bracing him with their arms and bodies. Sander didn't argue, preferring to let everyone think he was merely acquiescing to their mother hen tendencies rather than admit he was unsteady on his feet. Pin-dots of black and white colored his vision, sometimes accompanied by darkness that he knew would swallow him whole if he let it.
Inside, the building was divided into living areas downstairs and bedrooms upstairs. Sander, getting the all clear from the guards, guided the girls straight into a sitting room adjacent to the staircase. Square, with no windows for security reasons, the sitting room offered comfortable leather furniture, ample lighting and two large desks at the back with laptops and phones available for use.
Breaking away from the women, Sander went to one of the plush leather chairs behind a desk and sat down. He wanted to be more upright than any of the couches would allow.
“How come I never knew this existed?” Natalia asked, looking around.
“It's an emergency escape for the King, that's why. Very few people know about it.” Sander said. He eyed his sister a moment, debating how much he could trust her. Their arguments and her overall general nature put questions in his mind he didn't like. True, she'd aided him when he needed it most, but he also knew Natalia usually acted for herself alone with little regard for anyone else. She'd been different during the summer, after his stance against the Crown Prince. In fact, it appeared as if there had been a shift in his sister, one he wasn't sure was authentic. For now, he had little choice but to keep her close.
Natalia met his eyes, then inclined her head. “Then I guess it's a good thing someone thought to plan ahead.”
“We'll have to ditch it soon, though. I'm not sure who I can trust and at least one of the Generals knows this location.” Sander, amazed that Natalia didn't start snarking or making snide comments, reached for one of the phones. The dial tone buzzed in his ear, assuring him no one anticipated their arrival. Otherwise, the lines would have been cut, severing one means of communication. He called three people in quick succession, people loyal to him all his life. Within minutes, a plan was set in motion to recall Gunnar, round up more guards known to be trustworthy, and get feedback on circumstances in the castle itself. When a certain name came down the line, a guard in good standing who was an inside man for Mattias, Sander smiled a grim smile. Perfect. He put the guard—a man who excelled in stealth and extracting secrets—to use spying on Paavo and the councilmen.
Sander wanted as much information as possible before he and his cadre went after Chey.
. . .
Wynn fixed the plan in her mind one last time. All she had to do was get downstairs, exit through the front doors and ask one of the drivers to take her to town. If she acted authoritative enough, she didn't think anyone would question her, not co
nsidering her new status as Paavo's assistant. Security would simply think she had an errand to run.
As long as Paavo didn't see her, she thought she would be fine. She only hoped she wasn't too late.
Stopping before the mirror, she examined the designer jeans with a bit of rhinestone sparkle on the back pockets and the high necked, crocheted shirt that left her arms completely bare. It wasn't her usual style, but she was more concerned with blending in than standing out. The shoes, gladiator in style with leather straps wrapping her ankles, lacked a heel to get in the way in case she needed to hurry.
When she met the reflection of her eyes, she immediately looked away. Wynn couldn't face herself, couldn't confront the minor ache that lingered at the thought of leaving Paavo behind. She knew she had no choice, knew she couldn't trust him and knew she shouldn't have this odd attraction to a man wreaking so much havoc on his own country. On his own family. Paavo was dangerous, especially now when he was attempting a coup on his brother in a bid to become King.
None of that changed the fact that she felt sparks whenever he was around.
Frustrated, she crossed the room and let herself into the hallway. The only other item she brought with her was a small purse with a strap that she laid over her shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, she marched down the empty corridor, preparing herself for any number of scenarios that might arise. With luck, she wouldn't run into anyone important before making it to the front courtyard.
Today, luck wasn't on her side. Three steps from the bottom stair, someone cupped her elbow from behind and guided her to the right. Hustled forward, Wynn took several hasty steps to get her balance before she had time to dart a look sideways.
Leander was the culprit, features stony, mouth set in a hard line.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. Wynn didn't know if it was wise to draw attention or whether to go along. What if he was acting on Paavo's orders? She had precious few minutes to decide if Leander was about to detain her.
“Taking you somewhere else so we can talk,” Leander said, voice gruff.
Wynn halted in her tracks and twisted her elbow out of his hand. “No, I'm sorry. I'm not going anywhere with you. I have business.”
Suddenly sure this was leading nowhere good, Wynn pivoted, ready to backtrack and put some distance between herself and the guard.
Leander blocked her way, staring down with serious gray eyes. “Don't make a scene--”
“Then step aside,” she said, raising her voice. One member of the staff glanced over as they walked by.
“Wynn, you need to come with me.” He reached a hand out as if to herd her the other direction.
“Whatever you have to say, I'm sure you can tell me right here.” Wynn refused to go with him. She didn't like the gleam in Leander's eyes, the darkness she intuited he was capable of. After catching her in a compromising position before, his motives were suspect. How convenient it was Leander, of all men, to waylay her before she got out the door.
Leander's gaze ticked to the side, somewhere beyond her person.
Stiffening when Wynn realized someone had approached, she glanced over her shoulder just as Paavo spoke.
“Everything all right?” he asked, exchanging a look with Wynn. The Prince-turned-King smoothed a hand down the front of his tie, a predatory air in the set of his shoulders.
Forced to re-evaluate the situation, Wynn fought for a neutral expression. If Paavo sent Leander to do his dirty work, why was he here now, inquiring after her? For show? Did Paavo care about those things at a time like this?
“I was simply giving Miss Hudson directions to the conference room where you held your meeting. She didn't know where to find you,” Leander said, speaking with a flawless Latvala accent.
Startled as much by Leander's answer as the switch from an American accent to this one, Wynn wondered if Leander was more than he seemed. She had the perfect opportunity to out Leander as a fake and a fraud—yet she hesitated.
When she saw Paavo's eyes narrow as if in suspicion, Wynn said, “I thought it was in another room. My mistake.”
Silence descended. A silence broken only by the scuff of shoes from waitstaff or other members of security in transit from one part of the castle to another. Wynn schooled her features, falling back on business-like behavior while she battled through confusion. She'd been so sure Leander was up to no good. Now it appeared as if he might have been acting on her behalf, as strange as it seemed.
“The meeting is over. Miss Hudson will be accompanying me to another holding,” Paavo said, returning his gaze to Wynn.
A prickle of heat spread over her skin at the direct eye contact. She should be doing everything in her power to get out of the excursion, not second guessing her intuition. In that moment, she hated herself a little for her weakness where Paavo was concerned. Dangerous or not, she reacted the same to him on a base level she couldn't control. What she could control, however, were her actions. Lifting her chin, she looked away toward the staircase. “Should I get a bag together then?”
“No, there isn't time. I'll have someone fetch your things en route.” Paavo traded another look with Leander, then stepped toward the doors that a guard opened upon his approach.
Wynn darted a glance up to Leander, only to see him staring hard at Paavo's back. With no choice but to follow lest she make Paavo more suspicious than he was, she set a pace for the door.
This was not going at all how she'd hoped.
Locking gazes with Leander a final time at the threshold, left with too many questions and not enough answers, Wynn followed Paavo to the waiting limousine. Every fiber of her being demanded she not get in the car. With a handful of guards bringing up the rear and more surrounding the vehicle, there was no other alternative than to slide into the back seat.
She could do this. Playing eyes and ears had never been so important, she thought, especially since it appeared Paavo meant to leave the main castle. Someone had to report back to Chey, needed to keep Paavo in their sights. Wynn told herself she was the best person for the job, no matter how precarious the situation had become.
Chapter Thirteen
In the darkest hour of the following morning, when mist still hung low over the treetops and even the birds were quiet, Sander's office door opened and Gunnar entered. Sitting back in his chair, maps spread out before him, Sander took one look at Gunnar's face and got to his feet.
He couldn't remember a time when his brother looked so distraught.
“Gunnar, thanks for coming so soon,” Sander said. He met Gunnar halfway, clasping one hand while the other returned a clap on the back.
“Thank God,” Gunnar said under his breath, leaning back to examine Sander at close range.
“I'm in one piece,” Sander assured him, giving Gunnar's shoulder one more clap before he returned to his seat. Sprawling into the comfort of leather, Sander slouched, ignoring the shooting pain in his head and elsewhere. “Did they fill you in on the way here?”
“Yes. I can't believe he took Chey. What the hell was he thinking?” Gunnar said with a scowl. “He threatened me with Krislin, too. I'm relieved she's here.”
“Desperate men do desperate things,” Sander replied. Years of training and experience were the only things responsible for Sander's ability to push aside his fury at Paavo's betrayal so he could concentrate on salvaging the situation. Chey was priority number one. Once he had her back, then he could deal with the rest. Time was of the essence. “Tell me what you saw out in the countryside.”
“It's worse than you think,” Gunnar said, taking a chair on the opposite side of the desk. He sat on the edge, clearly agitated. “He's been planning for months. There are troops stationed at strategic points, hemming in the 'regions' as well as guarding certain roads. And this was just what I saw on my way to Solvandi. He's had Einarr castle partly restored and expects me to rule from there. The military in place might pretend to be under my command? But I have no doubt they're really loyal to Paavo.”
Sander listened, leaning forward to shuffle through maps. One, with red outlines around the territories, he moved to the top. “How many men?”
“I can't tell for sure. I wasn't there long. Enough men to protect the castle from a small invasion, though. A few hundred troops, I'd say. Who knows how many more are out on the grounds,” Gunnar replied.
“The roads leading in and out?”
“All covered. At least the main ones that I could see from the air. He knows the back roads, too, so I'm sure he's got some kind of protection there as well.” Gunnar raked a hand through his tousled hair.
“I'll get one of the Generals on it. I've had them gathering manpower while we waited to hear what you knew. What we need to know next is where he took Chey. Any ideas?” Sander pushed down another wave of anger. He couldn't give in to worry or aggression—not yet. The time would come soon enough for action.
“I don't know. He never said anything about Chey to me. The main family seat is too obvious, too easily penetrated because he won't know for sure what guards he can trust and those he can't. Men once loyal to you who have sworn an oath to him can still reverse their decision and he knows it.”
“What about one of his holdings? Or even the one in the back country?” Sander asked. He felt two ways about it: Paavo could fortify the castle on the hill better than any of his other holdings, giving him an advantage over an attack, yet it was probably the first place anyone would look for Chey, making the castle an immediate, prime target. Paavo knew this. The question was whether Paavo meant to hide her elsewhere and let troops spend time and energy in one place, while the Queen was in another.
The Wrath of the King (Royals Book 5) Page 10