“Yeah, like I said, they’re everywhere. I think a lot of people are coming,” Jake said.
You said they were everywhere in Brooklyn, Gaia thought, irritated by the triangular situation she suddenly found herself in. All she wanted to do was get the heck out of there.
Then, as the people down at the other end of the bar got their drinks and moved away, Gaia saw something that really made her want to get the heck out of there. Sam Moon was sitting a few yards away, staring off into space.
“Oh, come on,” Gaia said out loud, her heart turning.
“I know. This guy’s not giving me the time of day,” Jake replied, motioning at the frazzled bartender. “What do you want, anyway?” he asked Gaia.
“Nothing,” Gaia said, her pulse racing. Sam was going to turn around any second and see her here with Jake. Or Ed was going to come over to get a drink. And she really wasn’t sure she could handle either of those scenarios.
What had made her think that she could get away with one normal, fun night? Didn’t she know the fates were working against her here? This couldn’t be a coincidence. It was too coincidental. Someone was definitely pulling the strings up there and he or she had a sadistic sense of humor.
“Hey, Jake? Do you think we could—”
Gaia never finished her sentence because at that moment, one of the guitars on stage let out a screech that pierced the eardrums of everyone in the room. Jake didn’t hear a word of what she’d said.
A few moments later, Jake had a soda in his hand and he grabbed Gaia’s wrist with the other. As they wove their way back through the crowd, Gaia saw Ed recognize them from out of the corner of her eye. And when Jake plopped down into a chair near the stage, Sam noticed them, too.
Gaia looked back through the bar toward the door, past dozens and dozens of heads that were bopping up and down to the music. She looked at Jake, whose eyes were trained on the stage. There was no way to make a fast escape. If she got up and bolted, either Jake or Ed or Sam would catch up to her before she even made it halfway to the door. Or all of them would. There was no doubt about it. Gaia was trapped.
Swallowing against her dry throat, she sank down as low as possible in her chair, rested her elbow on the table and shielded her face with her hand. This night was about to get interesting.
To: Y
From: X22
Subject: Damage control
Have contacted our agent within the CIA. Agent is in position to neutralize the prisoners before you can be compromised. Agent awaits your orders.
To: X22
From: Y
Subject: Re: Damage control
Negative. Neutralization is too dangerous. We must proceed carefully at this juncture.
My transfer to the new location is complete. Safe house secure. It’s time to go on the offensive. Put together a team and take the girl.
the bomb
“Yuri, my uncle, your beloved Katia’s father, is very much alive, Tom,” Natasha said firmly. “And he’s here.”
Lost-Puppy-Dog Style
ED STOOD NEAR THE WALL, BEHIND the area where the tables and chairs were set up, but in front of the crowd that was packed in behind them. Next to him, Kai bounced up and down, screaming and cheering—singing along to words that Ed couldn’t remotely understand. The audience, for the most part, seemed to be enjoying the piercingly loud, repetitive set that the Dust Magnets were putting forth, but to Ed, it was torture. Every once in a while, if he could manage it without being obvious, he would press his fingertips into his ears to dull the noise and catch a bit of a reprieve.
Of course, he wasn’t the only person in the room feeling tortured. Gaia was clearly ready and willing to be sucked into the ninth ring of hell. Every few seconds she seemed to be sinking a little bit lower in her chair until her knees were practically touching the ground. Jake, God bless him, was sitting slightly in front of her, watching the band, so he had yet to notice his date’s—was it a date?—obvious distress.
At the same time, Sam was getting his stares in, lost-puppy-dog style. While his friends shouted and laughed to one another across the table, Sam sat back, eyeing Gaia, all droopy and sad.
Who is that guy? his look read. Why is she here with him and not me?
Ed had heard those thoughts in his own head more times than he cared to remember. He recognized his lost-puppy-dog expression. When it came to Gaia, he invented the lost-puppy-dog face. Seeing it on someone else only made him realize how pathetic he’d been for the past year. Why hadn’t somebody smacked him upside the head and told him to snap the hell out of it?
Suddenly, Ed was struck with an idea. No one had done that for him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it for someone else. It would be like philanthropy on a Saturday night. It might make the agony of this evening worthwhile.
“I’ll be right back!” he shouted in Kai’s ear. She smiled and nodded, continuing to bounce.
Ed made his way along the front of the crowd and over to Sam’s table. He pulled a free chair from the next table, turned it around, and straddled it right at Sam’s elbow.
“What’s up, man?” Ed said.
Sam glanced at him, almost startled.
“Hey!” he shouted back with a nod. He took a sip of his beer and trained his eyes on the hideousness on the stage as if that was what he’d been watching all along.
“Look, Sam. I came over here to tell you that it’s game over,” Ed shouted, leaning in toward Sam’s ear.
“What?” His eyebrows shot up and came together.
“Game over,” Ed said, lifting his chin in Jake’s direction. Sam followed his eyes, drawn back to the car wreck.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sam said.
But the defiant way in which he said it told Ed that he knew exactly what he was talking about. Still, it couldn’t hurt to hammer it home.
“You see that guy she’s with?” Ed said, leaning in again. “That’s him. That’s the guy with all the mojo you and I will never have.” Ed reached up and clapped Sam on the shoulder in solidarity with his former adversary. “It’s time to give it up, man,” he said. “Trust me. I know.”
Territorial
THIS HAS TO BE OVER SOON, GAIA thought, her head pounding as the band’s front man executed some kind of wide-legged jump and almost took out the drummer’s cymbals and dead-legged the bass man. If there is any mercy in the world, this has to be over soon.
“I’ll be back in a minute!” Jake suddenly shouted at her.
Gaia sat up straight and grabbed his arm before she could double-think it. “What? Where are you going?”
“Bathroom!” Jake yelled, starting out of his chair.
Gaia glanced in Sam’s direction from the corner of her eye. Was it her imagination or was Ed just getting up from Sam’s table?
“Why?” Gaia blurted.
Jake laughed. “I think it’s kind of obvious. I’ll be right back.” Then he stepped away from the table, carefully avoiding wires and abandoned beer bottles.
Gaia suddenly felt like every light in the club was trained directly on her. She’s right here! Come and get her!
Sam was watching her. She could feel it. She’d felt it all night long, but now it somehow seemed more intense. Her first instinct was to sink down in her chair again, but that wasn’t going to get her anywhere. It wasn’t going to make her disappear. Besides, her butt hurt from the edge of the seat pressing into it all night.
There was movement. Definite movement caught in her peripheral vision. Gaia cleared her throat and fixed her gaze on the band. She loved this band. She was so into them. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them.
Yeah, right.
“Hey,” Sam said, lurking just behind her shoulder. “Mind if I sit?”
Gaia pressed her lips together in a reasonable facsimile of a smile. “No extra chairs,” she said pseudo-apologetically.
Sam leaned over to the couple next to them, pointing at an empty seat at their table. Seconds later, h
e was at eye level right across from her. Gaia glanced automatically in the direction of the bathrooms, but Jake was nowhere to be found.
“So, who’s the guy?” Sam asked bluntly.
“Jake,” Gaia replied, thankful that the deafening noise made it next to impossible to attempt to expand.
“Ah,” Sam replied, nodding and looking around. As if the word “Jake” explained everything. He was playing it cool. Gaia could have kissed him for his male ego that required that he play it cool.
“So, listen. I’ve decided I’ll talk to Oliver,” Sam shouted, leaning in slightly.
Gaia’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah? That’s great!” she shouted back.
Sam’s green eyes took on new depth as he watched her face. “Yeah, well, it means a lot to you!” he yelled.
Gaia felt a stirring in her chest. So he was doing it for her. Not because he wanted to, not to help Oliver, but for her. Time for a subject change. Luckily, at that moment, the song ended, making it much easier to talk. Everyone cheered and applauded, and the front man told them all that it was time for the Dust Magnets’ break.
“So,” Gaia said. “I went to see Dmitri this morning.”
“Yeah? I meant to ask you about that. It’s weird, isn’t it?” Sam said.
“What’s weird?” Gaia asked.
“How he just up and split. I hope nothing’s wrong,” Sam said. “But then, with that guy—”
Gaia shook her head, confused. “What do you mean he up and split? I just saw him.”
“Oh, he was there?” Sam said, adjusting in his seat. “Well, did he mention anything to you about where he was going, cuz he wasn’t there this afternoon . . . ?”
“Sam,” Gaia said, leaning forward. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Okay, all I know is, I went over there this afternoon to get the last of my stuff, and when I got there most of Dmitri’s stuff was gone—”
“And you don’t know where he went?” Gaia asked, her voice rising.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I have no idea,” Sam said. “He left me a note saying he’d be in touch and that was it.”
“But I was just there.” Gaia stood up from the table, her mind reeling. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“What? I just figured he was going off to do the laying low thing again,” Sam said. “Ever since we busted Dmitri out he’s been totally paranoid.”
Gaia rolled her eyes to the ceiling and when she looked back at Sam, he seemed chagrined, like a little kid who’d just broken something expensive. “I just figured it was Dmitri being eccentric,” he said. “Do you really think something’s wrong?”
Gaia took a deep breath and told herself to chill. Maybe Dmitri really had gone off somewhere to stay under the radar. He’d done it before. But after the odd conversation she’d had with him that morning, something about his sudden disappearance just seemed off. Why wouldn’t he have told her he was leaving?
At that moment, Jake emerged from around the corner and immediately noticed the new presence at their table. Gaia saw his face take on that territorial set as he made his way back a little faster than he’d left it. When his eyes met hers, he stopped in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing down at Sam.
“We have to go,” Gaia said.
“Whatever you say,” Jake told her, coming around the table.
“Are you going over there?” Sam asked. “I can come if you—”
“No,” Gaia interrupted a little more harshly than intended. Sam’s mouth snapped shut and she instantly felt guilty. Not only was she leaving with another guy, she was rude to him in front of another guy—a major blow. Guys could be so fragile. But Gaia did not want to risk pulling Sam back into her crazy life again. “I’ll let you know if we find anything,” she told him.
And with that, she and Jake headed for the door.
A Good Laugh
TOM NEVER TOOK HIS EYES OFF Natasha as he handed her the glass of water she requested. He sat down in his chair without looking at it or marking its position. He watched her and waited while she sipped from the cool, pristine glass and placed it down in front of her on the table. Tom was in charge this time. Nothing she could do or say would upset him.
“Thank you for moving Tatiana. These conversations, they’re too difficult on her,” Natasha said.
“You’re welcome,” Tom replied. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, his ankle resting atop his knee. “So let’s talk.”
“How’s Gaia?”
A surge of heat rushed up through Tom’s body directly into his head. He fought the urge to glance at the one-way mirror, knowing Frenz was in there, observing him closely.
Just answer the question, Tom. No sarcasm.
“She’s fine. But let’s talk about you,” Tom said. “For whom are you working?”
Natasha smiled slowly. “Jumping right in, Tom? You would rather not be here, I see. Is it because your colleagues gave me the deal you were so reluctant to offer?”
Tom uncrossed his legs, moved forward on his chair, and set his elbows on the table. It did bother him—the fact that his superiors had made a deal—but he wouldn’t let that show. He looked deep into Natasha’s eyes. “On the contrary, Natasha. There’s no place I’d rather be. But you told my boss that you wanted to talk to me, and I’d appreciate it if you’d start talking.”
She blinked, obviously surprised at his calm demeanor.
“Who sent you here?” he asked. “What was your primary mission? I know it wasn’t to take Gaia out because you were here for months before you even attempted it.”
Natasha gazed at him stonily. Tom started to lose his patience.
“Natasha, you’re not stupid. You know they won’t make good on your deal unless you give us some real intel,” Tom said. “Why drag this out any longer? Why let Tatiana suffer any longer than she has to?”
She didn’t move a muscle. She didn’t even seem to be breathing. She sat like a statue for another few minutes before, finally, she opened her mouth and started to talk. Her voice was monotone, her expression resigned.
“Tom,” she said. “I am Katia’s cousin.”
It was all he could do to keep from lifting a hand to his chest, which felt as if it had just been pierced through by a sword. Katia’s cousin? His Katia?
“Not possible,” he said, even as he saw the truth of the statement. His heart raced and he fought to control his emotions. Rosenberg and Frenz were watching, after all. He couldn’t afford to lose it now.
“I know you always saw a resemblance. I know that’s why you were attracted to me. It’s one of the reasons I was assigned to your case,” Natasha continued in the same unaffected monotone.
It’s one of the reasons I was assigned to your case. . . . This had to be wrong. This had to be a sick joke. How could anyone do this to another person—send his dead wife’s cousin to seduce him—to exploit that weakness in his heart?
“Tatiana and I were sent to America to watch you. To keep an eye on you and see if you suspected what was going on within the Organization.”
“The Organization,” Tom repeated, adopting the same flat tone Natasha was using. If he didn’t he was sure his myriad of emotions would show through, and he couldn’t have that.
“You’re not going to like this, Tom,” Natasha said.
Tom narrowed his eyes at her. She was on the verge of telling him something. Something big. And from the triumphant look on her face, she was going to enjoy it.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Tom said. “Who sent you? Who’s running the Organization?”
Natasha lowered her chin and looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes gleaming. Time seemed to stop, but it hadn’t. The only sound in the room was the ticking of Tom’s watch.
“It is Yuri. My uncle. Katia’s father. It was Yuri who sent us.”
At that moment, Tom was glad to be sitting. His every nerve and cell felt sick. Yuri Petrova c
ould not be alive. Katia’s evil psycho of a father could not be alive.
“Try again, Natasha,” Tom told her, clear as a bell even as his hands shook under the table. “Yuri is six feet under and has been for years. We both know it.”
“There have been many changes,” Natasha continued as if Tom hadn’t spoken at all. “Yuri is growing old and he needed a successor. Tatiana was being groomed to take over the Organization. But Yuri needed to be sure that you and Gaia would not get in the way. He needed to be sure that—”
Tom laughed. He couldn’t help it. It was the only release he could allow himself. It burbled up through his chest and throat and pressed at his lips until he just couldn’t hold it in any longer. Natasha stopped talking and stared at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tom said mirthfully. He pressed the top of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then folded his hands on the table, his eyes still dancing. “It’s just, I thought you were going to tell me the truth here tonight.”
This couldn’t be the truth. He refused to accept that.
“And I am,” Natasha said blankly.
“You expect me to believe this?” Tom asked, standing abruptly, his chair scraping back across the concrete floor. He hovered over her, suddenly hyperaware of the eyes on him from the other side of the glass, hyperaware of the hammering of his own heart. “Natasha,” he said, pressing his fingertips into the metal table and leaning over her. “Yuri has been dead for years.”
Natasha leaned forward, the single light hanging above them casting distorted shadows across her face. She gazed up at him through her lashes, a coy smile playing on her lips. Whatever she was about to say, whatever bomb she was about to drop, she was enjoying it to the fullest.
“Yuri Petrova is very much alive, Tom,” Natasha said firmly.
Tom swallowed. “I don’t believe you.”
“Well, you had better start,” Natasha told him, cool and calm. “He is alive. And he is here.”
“Here?” he repeated, searching her eyes. His body started to believe her before his brain did. The hairs on his arms stood on end and a chill shot through to his core. Natasha had lied to him before and he’d believed her, but this time she was telling the truth—the impossible, horrifying truth.
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