Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1)

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Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1) Page 14

by Aislinn Kearns


  “We messed up, right?”

  “Yeah.” He looked at her, his eyes softening as he took in her tense face. “But we’ll fix whatever comes of it. Don’t worry.” He squeezed her hand.

  The muscles in her shoulders loosened slightly, and she found it in her to smile.

  “I’ll go into the other room to make the call,” said Paul, pulling away.

  Christine tightened her hand on his, stopping him. “Why?”

  He looked at her like it was obvious. “Duncan is going to chew me out. You don’t need to hear that.”

  Christine shook her head. “He should be chewing me out, too, if not more. Whatever happens is my fault, and I should take the consequences.”

  Paul didn’t move, just looked at her steadily. “You know, I suspected it, but this proves it.”

  “What?”

  “You’re a genuinely good person.”

  Christine laughed, and the last of the tension in her floated away, leaving her feeling strong and determined. “Who knew, right?” she replied with a smile.

  Their gazes locked. Paul ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and the spark travelled up her arm, shocking her heart into a faster beat.

  “I need to make that phone call,” Paul whispered, not moving.

  Christine dragged her gaze away from his. She cleared her throat. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter 17

  Duncan carefully eased the leg press back towards him before reaching for his ringing phone. The caller ID told him it was Paul, so he sighed and sat up.

  “You calling to apologise?” he said after answering. He dug his fingers into his thigh muscles, trying to ease the painful ache that was so common for him these days.

  “Not exactly.” The hesitation in Paul’s voice was Duncan’s first clue.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “I may have—”

  “We may have,” interrupted a female voice.

  “Hi Christine,” Duncan said.

  “Hi Duncan,” she replied, apparently amused.

  Duncan sighed, weary. “What did you two do now?” He didn’t have time for more shit. His temper was already on knife’s edge due to the pain in his leg.

  “We called Vovk,” Paul replied.

  “What?” Duncan asked through gritted teeth, carefully holding back his anger.

  Christine was the one that answered. “It was the wrong Vovk, too. The line was bad, and we couldn’t tell that it was Klim that answered the phone, not Anatoli.”

  “Shit. What did you guys say?” He felt old all of a sudden, like the father of two recalcitrant children. As if he’d already witnessed his world burn down, twice, and nothing would surprise or upset him anymore.

  Paul cleared his throat. “We did find out that Old Mr. Disik was mob. Big time.”

  “High up in the chain?” Duncan asked, his interest piqued.

  “Yeah,” Paul replied. “He was taking personal records of the people he was extorting money from. Bribes, protection money, blackmail. You name it, he was into it.”

  “That certainly puts a new spin on things. It explains why the cops are gunning for him, too.”

  “Right,” said Paul, warming to his story. “Better yet, he may have taken meticulous records of the money he took in, but he apparently never spent it.”

  “For real?”

  Paul made a sound in the affirmative.

  “What a bastard.” Duncan laughed. “So, you got some good info. What went wrong?” Straight back to business. He needed to get back to exercising, ease the frozen muscles in his thigh so he could get back to work.

  They were both silent for a moment. It was Christine who eventually answered. “I may have accidentally let slip that Mr. Disik is ill and getting senile.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad. What am I missing?” Duncan asked.

  Paul replied. “It seemed to spur something in him. He said he was going to take ‘action’ and hung up. It made us a little nervous.”

  Duncan’s adrenaline spiked. “What do you think he meant?”

  “We don’t know. But we don’t like it.”

  “All right, I’ll send someone to watch him. Make sure he doesn’t do anything rash.”

  Paul let out a breath of relief. “Thanks, man.”

  “You’re welcome. But you do realise you are in no way off the hook. You are, in fact, even further on the hook than you were before.”

  “Understood,” came the sober reply.

  “Get it together. I might start thinking that Christine is a bad influence on you after this, since you’ve never done things like this before. But the fact is that you are—or should be—a professional. You know better, and you need to do better. Otherwise, I’ll not only pull you off this job, but I’ll have to let you go. I know I’m a lenient boss, but it’s because I trust my people to do good work and be sensible about things. If they aren’t…well. You get the point.”

  Duncan massaged his agonising leg muscles as he dressed down Paul. He hated to do it, but disobeying him twice in the space of twelve hours—even if the disobeying was in spirit, not in law—really couldn’t be ignored. He wasn’t in the mood to coddle the man. And, frankly, he would be doing him a disservice.

  The silence on the other end of the line lengthened. Duncan was beginning to wonder if he’d been too hard on Paul when the other man answered.

  “I won’t let you down again.” There was some kind of suppressed emotion in Paul’s voice.

  Awww, shit. Now he really felt like a father with a son that knew the worst thing his parent could be is disappointed. Not angry, or frustrated. Just disappointed.

  Unable to think of the words to apologise—or even if he should—he said goodbye to the two of them and hung up. He debated calling Mandy. She’d know exactly what to do about Paul. She was good like that.

  Instead, he thumbed through his contacts until he found Sam’s number.

  “Duncan,” she answered. His name had a questioning lilt as it came through the phone.

  “Sam. You busy?”

  “Not particularly. What do you need?”

  “I need you to watch someone. Paul and Christine stirred him up and are worried he might do something rash.”

  “That’s unlike Paul,” Sam answered.

  “Maybe Christine is having an impact.”

  Sam made a thoughtful sound, then deliberately change the subject. Duncan knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t want to get involved in personal speculation.

  “So, this guy. Who is he, and what do you want me to do about him?”

  “His name is Klim Vovk. I’ll text you his number and work address, since I got the impression that’s where he was when he took the call.”

  “Cool.”

  “I want you to watch him and report back. If he does end up doing something, call for backup. Don’t confront him alone. God knows if he’s dangerous.”

  “Copy.”

  They hung up, and Duncan texted her what he knew.

  Once again, he considered telling Mandy. As partner, she did have some right to know what was happening with her staff. She might even have good suggestions.

  But it was his responsibility to deploy their staff and manage the day-to-day operations. Plus, once she started having opinions about things, he knew there was no going back.

  He decided to wait.

  Paul and Christine stared at the phone for a while after hanging up. Duncan’s words still hung in the air between them. Though it had been directed at Paul, Christine also felt like she’d failed. Perhaps more so, since she’d dragged Paul down with her.

  “I’m sorry,” Christine said after a moment. “This is all my fault.”

  Paul shook his head. “It’s not. I’m an adult, and I made my own choices.”

  “It was me that let slip about Mr. Disik. It was going fine until then.”

  Paul’s smile was gentle. “I won’t argue that your interrogation technique needs a bit of work.”

&nb
sp; Christine tried to smile, but it wobbled before falling. “I’ve messed everything up.”

  “Don’t think like that.” Paul’s admonishment was swift and harsh.

  “I feel like all I’ve done is cause trouble.” She could feel the tears gathering at the back of her eyes. The constant stress of the last few days was dragging on her, draining her spirit.

  “It’s been worth it,” Paul told her. His warm eyes and soft voice told her that he was sincere.

  Her heart flipped and spun. She was both attracted to and emotionally attached to Paul. She accepted that now. It had nothing to do with him rescuing her, and everything to do with who he was.

  She thought about the previous night. Their kiss. The way it had ended. At the time, she’d been taken aback by his statement that he wasn’t ready, but she’d appreciated his honesty. And she’d thought it was rather sweet.

  She studied him now, wondering if he’d meant what he’d said. She knew that she could fall hard and fast for this man. He had the capacity to break her heart. The thing that she’d been avoiding for so long—since her parents had died and left her all alone—might finally come to pass.

  The question was, did Christine have it in her to take the risk?

  As he’d just said, Paul thought that she was worth it, despite the pain and trouble she’d caused him. Might still cause him. Surely he deserved the same consideration in return?

  She leaned forward and settled her lips against his. Paul kissed her back instantly and eagerly, without a moment’s hesitation. Some of her doubt slipped away, erased by the tender movement of his lips over hers.

  He cupped her face, tilting her head for a better angle as his tongue teased hers. She shivered, pushing closer to him. Heat built between them.

  Paul gentled the kiss, then pulled away. Christine eyed him.

  “Still not ready?” she asked.

  “Feeling more ready by the moment,” he replied with a smile. His face was flushed, his breathing harsh. “But now’s not the time.”

  “Right,” Christine replied, the memory of her situation slamming into her.

  Christine wasn’t sure what her face showed, but Paul grabbed her hand urgently. His look was kind.

  “Let’s go over what we’ve learned. The sooner we figure this out, the closer you’ll be to getting back to a normal life.”

  Christine agreed. “Perhaps the money has something to do with it?”

  “You mean, that whoever wants you is after it?”

  “That much money can make people do crazy things.”

  “That’s true. But why come after you?”

  “Goodness knows. But maybe they think I know where it is for some reason.”

  Paul nodded. “Could be. I’m guessing you don’t, though?”

  Christine couldn’t help a smile. “I wish! Think what you could do with that much money.”

  “Do you think he stashed it in cash? Or in a Cayman Islands bank account?”

  “A mobster from the 80s and 90s? Cash, for sure. They were notorious for it. Probably under some floorboards, or in the walls of one of the properties he built. Something old school.”

  Paul considered that. “You know, you could actually be right.”

  “It’s still hard to think of sweet Mr. Disik being this devious, evil man. He’s always been so kind to me. But maybe that’s just his illness.”

  Paul shrugged. “Bad people still show kindness. It’s one of the most disconcerting things about this world.” Something dark flashed in his eyes, and Christine had no doubt that some memory had just assaulted him. It was gone as quickly as it had come.

  “So, if they are after me for the money, how do we let them know I don’t have it and don’t know how to get it?” Christine asked.

  Paul considered. “That’s a good question. The answer depends on who it is that wants to know.”

  “You don’t think it’s Klim?”

  “It might be. But it is too soon to tell.”

  “So we’re still stuck,” Christine said, deflating.

  “We’ll think of something.” Paul grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb comfortingly across her knuckles. Christine managed a small smile as she watched the mesmerising movement.

  “It occurs to me,” Christine murmured slowly. “That if these guys only want to talk to me—whether to get information about this money stash or not—then maybe I should just let them take me. Once they talk to me, they’ll realise I’m useless to them, and it’ll all be over.”

  Paul’s other hand clenched into a fist. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Why not? You said yourself that they want to capture, not kill me.”

  Paul’s jaw clenched, and he looked like he was holding back. “Because some things are worse than death.” He took a deep breath. “They might not believe you when you say that you don’t know where the money is. The best way to get around that? Torture. Or, they might kill you when they realise you are of no use, particularly if you’ve seen their faces. They might be luring you away because they want to set your death up to look like an accident.”

  Christine swallowed, suddenly cold.

  Paul finished, his eyes boring into hers to impress the importance of what he was saying. His hand was squeezing hers so tightly it bordered on pain. “Do not put yourself in their hands. There is a high chance it won’t end well.”

  Christine nodded enthusiastically. “I won’t.”

  He hesitated a moment, searching her face. “Good,” he said eventually.

  “What’s our next step?”

  “For now, we do as Duncan told us and stay put. We don’t want to make anyone’s jobs harder.”

  Christine was about to reply when the phone rang. Both she and Paul glanced at it, surprised. Duncan’s name flashed across the screen. Paul answered.

  “Yeah?”

  Duncan’s voice was urgent. Christine could hear the subdued panic in it from where she sat. “You wouldn’t happen to have eyes inside Disik’s house from your adventure the other day, would you?”

  Paul glanced up at her, catching her gaze. A confused frown tugged at his brow. Christine answered with a shrug.

  “No. We used a button cam. Why do you ask?”

  Duncan cleared his throat. “You better get the satellite pointed at Disik’s house, then. Klim just busted in there, and he didn’t look happy.” A harsh exhale sounded through the phone. “I’m on my way over there with Blake. I don’t know what might happen, but instinct tells me it won’t be good.”

  Chapter 18

  Christine sat, perched on the edge of the office chair, her heart in her throat as Paul manoeuvred the satellite into position. The same one that he’d once used to save her life.

  He found the correct street. Sam, Duncan, and Blake were hovering a few car lengths down from the Disik house, huddled together and no doubt making some kind of plans.

  It all looked calm. Orderly.

  Inside, Christine knew it would be a different story.

  Klim was in there, apparently having driven straight over after his conversation with the two of them. It had been twenty minutes since Sam had seen him walk in there. From what Christine had understood, Sam thought Klim might have had a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants when he entered the house.

  If that was true, it seemed likely that Klim now held Mr. Disik hostage.

  Whatever the old man had done in the past, he was sick. No doubt he was hurt, scared, and didn’t even understand what was happening. There was no way he could answer any questions that Klim might have.

  Which put him in danger, if Klim was as irrational and angry as they all suspected.

  Worse, it was all Christine’s fault. She’d put them in this position by telling Klim about Mr. Disik’s condition. Anything that happened to him was on her head.

  “Sam, what’s your status?” Paul asked. Christine watched on the screen as Sam tapped her ear, activating her headset.

  “No change. No gunfire heard. We’re
planning to do a recon from outside, but we want to figure out the best way to go about it.”

  Christine whispered in Paul’s ear. “What will they do if they see Mr. Disik in danger?”

  “Then we go in,” Sam replied, obviously having overheard.

  Something occurred to Christine. She leaned forward and enunciated clearly into the microphone. “Is the alarm going off?”

  Sam glanced towards the house, her ponytail swinging. “No. No alarm that I can hear. Why?”

  Something tugged at Christine, a strange feeling that things weren’t quite right. “Mr. Disik has a pretty sophisticated alarm system on his house. He must have turned it off when Klim entered.” Why he’d do that, though, was a mystery. Perhaps Klim had held the gun to his head to force him.

  Sam replied. “We’ll check on it once we get in closer. It might be a silent alarm.”

  They were silent for a moment, then Christine interrupted again.

  “Forgive me for asking, but shouldn’t you call the police?”

  Sam scoffed, then must have realised that Christine was serious. “We all heard what Destiny said about the police. For all we know, they won’t even bother rescuing Disik. For now, all we are doing is being neighbourly. Checking up on Disik and making sure the conversation between him and Klim stays friendly.

  “If we call the police now, it will give them an excuse to make things difficult for your old Mr. Disik. Besides, if they do have to breach the house so save him—or not—they won’t be any better at this than we are. Likely worse. This way we can keep control of the situation and the flow of information. They won’t be able to blame you or us for any of this. And they won’t be able to use your association with Disik against you.”

  Christine’s guilt assailed her again. She must have made a sound, because Paul grabbed her hand, squeezing tight. “Don’t worry,” he murmured.

  Christine took a deep breath.

  “All right, just get him out safely.”

  “Do we have to?” Blake asked, apparently having got his own comm system working. “I mean, the guy is a criminal mastermind.”

  “He’s not. Not anymore. I doubt he even remembers most of that. Now he’s just a confused, sick old man.”

 

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