“I'll tell her. Don't worry about the kids. I'll make sure they're safe.”
“Thanks. I'll update you soon.” Sander ended that call and made another to get the private jet fueled and a flight plan in place. He didn't have time to wait for Ahsan to send a plane all the way from Afshar.
“There's a delay with the helicopter,” the driver said. He'd been on his own phone, making arrangements.
“What delay?”
“The one that went to the prison is still there, but the pilot isn't responding. And the other chopper is all the way in Vogeva. I ordered it back here as soon as possible.”
Sander clenched his teeth. There were few reasons the pilot wouldn't respond to a direct call. Crashing the chopper was one of them. He couldn't contemplate the implications of someone shooting the craft down. Wouldn't. There was something else going on, a miscommunication or misunderstanding. He cursed under his breath.
The last thing he needed was a delay in his own flight. Driving would take too long. He said, “Get one here, I don't care if we have to commandeer a media helicopter to do it.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
Sander dialed Chey's phone. No answer.
Chapter Seventeen
In the same chair she'd been tied to before, Chey stared across the room at Paavo, ignoring the burn on her wrists from a fresh length of rope binding her hands tight. The prince paced near the wall, posture lax, hands still in his pockets. As if he didn't have a care in the world.
“I did say that you shouldn't take the hard road, Chey,” Paavo finally said.
“Just get your torture over with already. I'm not going to tell you where he is because I don't know.”
“See, rushing takes the fun—and anticipation—out of things. You forget that I remember how tough you can be sometimes, and that torturing you would likely take a long time thanks to your stubborn streak and penchant for holding off pain. Torturing you would be a waste.”
Chey stiffened in her seat. She hadn't missed his emphasis on her. Suddenly she fretted that Paavo had someone she cared for in custody: a best friend, an in-law, one of her staff. Knowing that her refusal to cooperate would result in someone else's harm made her stomach churn.
“Your mind is hard at work now, isn't it?” Paavo asked. “You're wondering who, if not you, I would consider hurting.”
Chey said nothing.
“No questions? No guesses?”
She remained silent. Her insides twisted with fear and anxiety. She didn't want to be responsible for someone else's pain.
“Not even one?”
Chey fought off the urge to rant at Paavo. He was doing this on purpose, trying to get under her skin. And it was working.
“How about this. How about—you tell me where Sander was, if not where he is, and I'll reconsider sparing Elias's life.”
Her children's names were the very last she expected to hear come out of Paavo's mouth. Rage replaced fear, forcing her to sit forward in the chair. “Don't you dare touch my son!”
The corner of Paavo's mouth twitched upward. “I've got your attention now, haven't I? Tell me where Sander was when you saw him last.” Coins and keys jangled in Paavo's pockets when his fingers brushed against them.
“How can you even think of hurting a child? He's innocent, a baby. You wouldn't stoop so low, not even you, Paavo, to torture your own nephew.” Chey's voice shook, as did her hands.
“And yet, you still haven't answered the question.” Paavo clicked his tongue, as if chiding her. Warning her.
Chey considered her options. She could tell Paavo where she'd seen Sander last, putting not just her husband in jeopardy, but also her kids, who were being held in the same place. Or she could lie, putting everyone in jeopardy when Paavo sent someone to check a fake, distant locale only to discover Sander and the kids weren't there. The latter option might buy her more time, however. Might buy Sander and her kids more time. She wasn't positive Paavo didn't already have her kids in his custody, though, even if she didn't see how it was possible. Clearly, he had been plotting and planning for a very long time, and had inside help to accomplish all that he had accomplished. He might have attacked the bunker, taken her kids, but found Sander missing.
He met her eyes across the room, a knowing look in his own. “Thinking over which option is best, hm? You apparently don't take the threat seriously enough.”
“No, that's not it. I'm just...shocked. I can't believe you've somehow managed all this from prison.” Chey realized she shouldn't be as surprised as she was. Paavo had tried to end Sander once—and had nearly succeeded. Was it so far of a stretch to know he'd either joined with other forces or used a fake foe to try and gain his freedom? For the last three years, Paavo had done everything in his power to get Sander to execute him or exile him to another country. Being behind bars was a special kind of torture that Paavo didn't want to endure. He would have rather been dead—according to him. The whole time he'd had an alternate course of action. Sander had spent endless hours attempting to heal the people of Latvala, but there were contingents that still believed in the ideals Paavo had presented during his coup. People who supported him despite the fact that Paavo would have turned on them once he'd taken the throne.
“It wasn't as difficult as you might imagine.”
“But...how did you get contact with the Russians? Or is that all a ruse? Did you use their uniforms to throw people off, to cast suspicion somewhere else and create havoc while your people planted bombs?” Chey couldn't stop the questions once they started. She had a desperate need to know how Paavo had done it.
“The Russians had nothing to do with any of this. I long to know if Sander considered attacking the country.” He paused to arch a questioning brow.
“You know how Sander is. He's over the top cautious.” Desperate to distract Paavo and keep his mind off hurting her children, Chey strove hard to engage Paavo about the semantics of his plan.
“Indeed. It's very possible he'll follow through now that Konstantine is dead, however. Who is left to blame other than the Russians?”
Chey drew in a breath. Konstantine was dead?
“Oh, caught you by surprise, yes? Then again, you have been a little busy the last few hours, unable to get updates about the escalation.”
“Konstantine is dead? Why? I don't--”
“I see no harm in telling you. You won't be able to pass any of this on, anyway.” Paavo paused, then said, “By the way. Every minute you make me wait for an answer is a strike against you—and against your family. Just because I'm chatting you up doesn't mean I've forgotten my threat. We're through Elias and into Emily--”
“The last time I saw Sander he was in the hinterlands, searching for Russian contingents along the border. All I know is that he had a small team and intended to do spot checks, looking for incursions.” Chey forgot the details of Paavo's ultimate plan in favor of trying to save her children. She lied through her teeth, hoping, praying, that Sander had noticed her missing by now and would take immediate action. She knew Sander had been at the border, doing exactly as she'd said he'd been doing, except the timeline was off. She didn't stray from Paavo's eye contact, attempting to sell him on the 'truth' by not backing down.
“Isn't that convenient. He's somewhere I can't locate him, even though I know where he is. I wonder, Chey, if you're really telling me the truth. It will take considerable time to do a thorough search. Almost, but not quite, like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“You wanted to know where he was—that's where. He won't attack Russia until he's exhausted all other possibilities, and manually checking the border was high priority.” Oh God, Chey thought, let him believe me.
“What you don't apparently know is that Sander was with Konstantine when he was assassinated, which places Sander in the city a handful of hours ago. So either you're lying, or Sander was recalled to Kalev to meet with Konstantine after you left to come here.” Paavo paced the room, a slow meander, staring at the flo
or in consideration.
Chey's stomach flipped over. Paavo knew more than he was telling, had from the beginning, and he'd baited her to see if she would tell the truth, or lie. What were her options? To out her husband's whereabouts, and thus her kids, was tantamount in her eyes to signing their death certificate. Lying had been her only recourse.
“Nothing to say?” Paavo slanted her a sly look.
“I'm wondering why you didn't get Sander, too, if he's your ultimate target. If he was with Konstantine, then why aren't you gloating about Sander's death as well?”
“Unfortunately, he was out of the sniper's line of sight. What a stroke of luck for Sander, or he would be dead right now.” Paavo glanced at the door when a guard knocked, then let himself in. He held up Chey's ringing phone, as if indicating Paavo would be interested in the caller.
Chey breathed through her panic. She watched Paavo cross the room, take the phone, and smile when he glanced at the screen. He pivoted and advanced on her, extending the phone.
“You're going to find out where Sander is right now. Don't get cute, Chey, you're already down two kids. It won't take much to add Erick to the list.” He pressed a button and held the phone to her ear.
Steeling her resolve, trying to collect her thoughts, Chey said, “Sander, I swear to God, you better have a damn good reason why you haven't called before now.”
*
Alarm bells went off in Sander's head when he heard the vehemence in Chey's voice. He gestured to the driver to pull over to the side of the road, lessening the background noise. He tilted the phone so Mattias and Leander, who had suddenly leaned forward in their seats, could hear the conversation. Sander knew right away that Chey was in trouble. He had to think quick. Her immediate accusation was a 'sign', a code they'd worked on together after the last fiasco with his brother. A way to communicate with each other, to warn each other, without tipping off people nearby.
“You should check your messages more often. I left several. Where are you and why aren't you with the kids?” Sander listened for any telltale sounds that would help him place Chey's whereabouts. She had been at the prison, but that didn't mean she was still there.
“Don't worry about where I am. Where are you?”
Mattias leaned into Sander's line of sight, shaking his head no.
“We had to move the command center. Konstantine's dead, so I didn't feel safe at the bunker any longer. Where are you? We need that helicopter, Chey.” Sander waited to see if Chey would persist in asking him where the command center had moved to. Under normal circumstances, in a case like this, she wouldn't ask him specifics over an open line. Not when the family seat had been bombed and people were being murdered. If she did, then he knew her safety had been compromised. Someone had her under their control.
“I'm about to head back from Pallan island. I needed a few things from Kallaster. Where should I tell the pilot to go?”
Leander and Mattias started making rapid hand gestures from the back seat. Sander couldn't decipher anything at first, then understood the mouthed word ruins. There were quite a few sets of ruins in Latvala, old castles from his forebears that had become mostly unlivable. He needed to draw off whoever was with Chey, lead them deep into the out-country, away from the city and the citizens.
“Remember the Ruins of Amsler? We're using that as our headquarters now. It's in decent enough shape but way off the grid, somewhere no one will think to look. The pilot will know where to go.” Sander picked a ruin that afforded him and his men a place to hide outside the castle itself. There were outbuildings and forest to take cover in. He listened as black static hissed down the line when Chey momentarily went quiet.
“I think I remember. That one castle I really liked, the one with the crumbling turret?”
“That one.” He paused, then asked, “You okay, Chey?”
Another, smaller hesitation. “Yes. I have...I have some bad news though. Urmas didn't want me to tell you until I saw you, but I think you should know now.”
Sander frowned. He knew Urmas hadn't been in touch with Chey. Not for hours. “What?”
“Paavo. He's...dead.”
Chapter Eighteen
Chey studied Paavo's face as he mouthed the words again. Tell him I'm dead. She licked her lips, and repeated herself. “Paavo's gone, Sander.”
“What? Wait...how the hell did that happen?”
“We just got the news. Urmas said there's been an attack at the prison. A lot of inmates were involved.” Chey made the story up as she went, taking smaller cues from Paavo. She knew Sander understood her warning, knew that he'd come up with the ruins as a place to draw her—and whoever was with her—out. She wasn't sure Sander knew it was Paavo, especially not after Paavo made her lie. There was no help for it. Sander cursed over the line.
“Are you sure, Chey?” he finally said.
“Yes. Urmas had no doubt. I'm not sure what kind of attack, whether it was an invasive force or a mutiny, but he's gone.”
“All right. I'll meet you at the ruins. And Chey—I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Chey winced when Paavo snatched the phone from her ear. Tracking Paavo's progress across the room, she watched him pass on a quiet message to his men. No matter what else happened now, Sander at least knew there was a problem and would act accordingly. While Paavo no doubt plotted Sander's demise, Chey plotted his. She considered all the actions between the prison and the ruins that Paavo would have to take—the drive to the helicopter, the flight, the approach to the ruins—and where she might trip him up. She was far from helpless, here.
Paavo turned back, sliding the phone into his pocket. He brought up a gun. Aimed it her way. “You have been very useful. Thank you.”
Chey's eyes widened. Shock stunned her mind. She never heard the bullet that hit her high in the chest, sending a bloom of pain spiraling out from the impact.
*
“What do we know?” Leander said the moment Sander ended the call. He ticked items off on his fingers. “We know Konstantine received a letter from a Russian commander about consequences if he didn't allow Imatra to be absorbed by Russia. All three of our countries were subsequently bombed, and Konstantine was executed. Konstantine might have staged some of the smaller skirmishes, and maybe he arranged for bombs, but he sure as hell didn't put a hit out on himself. We haven't heard a thing from the Russians ourselves, and now someone—who wants to get their hands on you next—has Chey. The prison never sent out any distress signals, so someone has taken control from the officers there. Paavo is apparently dead, maybe done the same way as Konstantine, yet we've received no correspondence demanding that you allow Latvala to be absorbed into the Russian fold, no one accepting responsibility for their actions. Only suspicious letters and rumors. What ifs. Nothing about this adds up. We would have known if Russian troops penetrated as far as the prison and we haven't heard anything from our military about any incursions. Who the hell had the plan and the power to wrest control from that many armed guards?”
Sander listened as Leander spelled out the situation in black and white. He gestured for the driver to get back on the road. He forced down an urgent sense of foreboding to concentrate on the problem. The news that Paavo was dead somehow didn't seem real. “I don't know. Maybe a smaller group—but that's a pretty heavily armed building. You'd think we would have heard something from someone before they went down.”
“Exactly,” Mattias said. He set a hand on Sander's shoulder, a silent show of support and understanding. “I don't think we're dealing with Russians. I don't think they're about to invade three countries for a take over.”
“I agree. It's something else. A more personal strike, and I'm not entirely sure Konstantine was ultimately the prime target,” Leander added. “So then we have to go over who your most volatile enemies are, Sander, and figure out who had the motivation to take it this far.”
“We've made great strides toward peace with pretty much everyone. Yeah, I've got enemies in the elite r
anks of the world, but why begin with Imatra? Why draw anyone else into it at all if it was me they wanted all along? Thane took a hit, too. His involvement and Konstantine's death don't make sense. It has to be related somehow.” Sander paused to make several more calls. He ordered the closest military members to the Ruins of Amsler, instructed no less than ten snipers to get up in the trees around the castle and into the castle itself. His brief conversation with Urmas confirmed his worst fears: Urmas hadn't had any contact at all with Chey in the last six or seven hours. The liaison was shocked to hear Paavo was dead, hadn't heard a breath of the rumor from anyone at the castle. Which meant Chey had made the lie up on the fly, for reasons Sander couldn't guess. After he ended the call, he said, “Urmas didn't know anything about Paavo.”
“Think Chey's trying to send us a message there?” Leander asked.
“Maybe. She had to know that she didn't talk to Urmas, and that I would call him to confirm or deny. So she lied about who told her of Paavo's death--” Sander stalled. He felt as if the answer was close at hand, as if his mind wanted to make the final connections yet the truth remained elusive.
“What is it, Dare?” Mattias asked, harking back to the childhood nickname Sander's siblings sometimes used.
“I don't know. I feel like the answer is right here, that we're overlooking something obvious. Or that we should know how to figure it out. Someone had to have infiltrated the ranks of the officers at the prison--” Sander paused again. The dark landscape drew his gaze. He could see the outline of his grim refection in the window, the stern set of his mouth and the twitch of a muscle in his jaw.
“What are you thinking?” Mattias asked.
“Infiltration,” Sander said.
“And?”
“Who has everything to hold against me, who's already on the inside? Who could have attacked from within the prison, rather than without?” Dread settled heavy in Sander's chest.
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