by Kenya Wright
My voice screeched a little. “I. . .like it.”
Hiro walked around me. “McQueen?”
I bobbed my head.
He stopped in front of me. “Did you ever catch McQueen’s 2015 collection?”
Say what?
I shook my head no.
“It was Japanese inspired. Geometric lines, oriental patterns, and floral silhouettes.” He backed up, giving us two feet of space. “But what made the collection really stunning was the innovative use of black python.”
“I. . .didn’t see that.”
“It’s a shame that he killed himself in 2010. He would have loved it.”
“Perhaps he was there to see it.”
Hiro leaned his head to the side. “Are you a believer in angels?”
“I believe that there is a higher power and things happening beyond our human knowledge and that most of the time. . .anything is possible.”
“That is truer than you can ever imagine.” He placed the towel around his neck. “Why are you here, Ms. Jones?”
“Misha needs your help. Leonid Turgenev kidnapped his daughter and the mother of his child. Her name is Valentina—”
“I am aware of who she is and that the little girl is his child. Leonid gave us the information and requested that we use those two as a way to make Misha vulnerable. We don’t use those types of methods.”
“Leonid did it anyway.”
“Because he knows we have not fulfilled our contract.”
I nodded, not wanting to say too much. I didn’t have all the intricate details of what happened between Misha and them.
“But why are you really here, Ms. Jones?”
“Because Misha wants—”
“Misha didn’t send you.” He scanned all my men. “Do you know how I know?”
I swallowed.
“Because he values you too much. A smart man would keep a woman so valuable far away from killers like us. And from what I’ve learned, Misha is a very smart man.”
“That being said. . .Misha still needs your help.”
Hiro smiled at me. “You should go back to wherever he hid you. This isn’t a conversation for someone of your quality.”
“Please help—”
“There’s a McQueen store in Tokyo. 4,200-square-foot of space right in the Aoyama neighborhood. The two stories include Alexander McQueen’s men’s and women’s collections.”
“That’s fine, but—”
“The floor is this cracked white marble. The furnishings are all pale gray leather. There’s a white marble staircase that takes you to the top level. And walking into the store is like entering a dream.” He grinned. “But the walls are the most interesting sight to behold.”
I gave up. “Why?”
“They feature wings, glittering shells, crystal sea horses, gold skulls, and silver gargoyles.”
“That sounds great. However—”
“And the chandelier.” Hiro crossed his arms over his chest. “The piece was inspired by a Japanese ink paint called the Hyonenzu. Have you ever seen that painting?”
“No.”
“If you looked at the chandelier you would see the painting. It’s all gourd vessels, catfish, skulls, and shell fragments.”
“Hiro.” I frowned.
His wicked grin deepened. “Yes, Ms. Jones?”
“I brought you lollipops. They’re in these boxes.”
The devilish expression left. His face turned serious as he changed his focus to the sweets.
I yanked up all the courage I could. “I brought them with the hopes that we could work together. I’m coming as a friend asking for help.”
“What type of lollipops are these?”
“Will you help Misha?”
“Misha didn’t come, Ms. Jones. You did. That means an entirely different situation.” He shifted his view back to me. “If you choose to embark on that journey, I will not stop you, although I’ve tried.”
“What journey?”
“You came to me for help. Therefore, you are the one that will owe me. Not Misha.”
I tensed. “How much would it cost to save them?”
“We don’t get paid with money. Our contracts are sealed through action.”
“What would you want me to do?”
He gazed at the boxes. “What I want from you would be more than lollipops.”
Yefim stepped forward. “She’s not sleeping with anyone.”
Hiro didn’t look at him. “Your guard has a dirty mind.”
I shook my head. “You still haven’t answered my question. What would you want me to do?”
“If we continue this conversation, there is no turning back.”
“This is about a baby. Misha’s daughter. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Give me the lollipops.” Hiro smiled. “Please.”
Frowning, I handed both boxes to him.
Other Xecutioners stopped what they were doing and gathered around. I glanced at Yefim. He didn’t look pleased with all of them so close.
The blond guy appeared out of nowhere and came to my side. He held a magazine in his hand.
Hiro scowled and spoke in what I assumed was Japanese. The blond waved him away and showed me the magazine along with a pen. It was the Paris Vogue cover. In it, I wore my costume from La Bayadère.
“Oh.” I gazed at it. “I didn’t even realize the magazine was out.”
The blonde spoke with a deep voice. “Please sign.”
I took the pen and did my best to write my name in a pretty way on the cover. “There you go.”
The blond bowed. “Thank you.”
I returned my attention to Hiro. He’d already handed the blue-haired guy one of the boxes. Hiro opened the first box and whistled.
“Very nice, Ms. Jones.” He lifted the rose gold lollipops. “Beautiful.”
“I thought you would like them.”
He looked at me. “Why?”
“I heard that you have an appreciation for beautiful things.”
Hiro placed the lollipop back into the box, handed it to the blue-haired guy, and grabbed the other one. “And what is in this box? More pretty lollipops of gold?”
“Check and see.”
He opened it and froze.
Uh. . .is that a good sign?
Hiro called the others over. They surrounded him and went through the box, speaking in Japanese the whole time. After two minutes, Hiro returned to me. “Do you know what my biggest dilemma will be today, Ms. Jones?”
“No.”
“I don’t want to suck on any of your lollipops. All of them are so elegant and perfect.” He gave me a genuine smile. “This was very thoughtful. Because of that, I will give you a discount on your contract.”
I widened my eyes. “So. . .you will help Misha?”
“The Mosquito and I already have an arrangement. From this moment on, you and I have our own contract.”
Yefim shook his head. “That’s not what the arrangement will be. At this moment, she is representing Misha—”
“Misha is not here to confirm it.” Hiro’s expression turned wicked. “Would you like to call him?”
“That’s fine.” I let out a long breath. “Tell me the cost of your contract.”
Hiro leaned his head to the side. “Have you ever been to Tokyo?”
“No.”
“This year you will.”
I stirred. “Why will I be in Tokyo?”
“I have an enemy there. They call him the Dragon. His wife is your fan.”
“She likes ballet?”
“She likes you.” Hiro handed the other box of lollipops to the blond. “Perhaps his wife’s adoration stems from your similarities.”
“Similarities?”
“She’s also from New York and has the same African qualities.”
“She’s black?”
Hiro nodded.
I asked. “How do you know she is my fan?”
“There are pictures of you in he
r office. She’s also begged the Dragon to go to some of your performances. He bought tickets, but as you know the theater is closed until further notice.”
“So. . .you would want me to go to Tokyo and dance for them?”
“You will hold a private Tokyo performance for some of the high society. With the announcement of it, I have people in place that will make sure the Dragon and his wife goes.”
“This sounds too simple.”
“It is not easy to get the Dragon out of his fortress in Tokyo. This performance will make him vulnerable.”
“And. . .” I held my hands to my side. “And you’re going to kill him and his wife?”
“She’s done nothing to me.”
“What about the Dragon?”
“I haven’t decided if I’m going to kill him or not.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated, Ms. Jones.” He stepped forward, leaving only a foot between us. “But that is not your concern.”
“So, all I do is hold a private performance in Tokyo—”
“At the theater, date, and time of my choosing.”
“Anything else?”
“Make sure you dance for at least an hour and a half. You’ll need an orchestra. Whoever plans this must work with one of us.”
“Maybe I can get my agent to figure this out.”
“As long as she listens, I don’t care.”
“And the Dragon’s wife is safe?”
He nodded.
“What about anybody else? Like. . .people in the audience or—”
“We only kill our target and at this time, I’m not sure if the target will die.” He leaned his head to the side. “Does that make you feel comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want to cause anyone undue harm?”
“I don’t.”
“Then, perhaps you’ve fallen in love with the wrong man.”
I frowned. “That’s my concern. Not yours.”
The wicked grin returned. “Do you have the location of the mother and child?”
“I will.”
“Once we get it, you only want them freed from Leonid?”
“Yes. . .unless. . .well what else can I get?”
He chuckled. “Not feeling too much of a savior when it comes to Leonid?”
I sighed. “Just make sure the mother and child are safe, please. If anyone gets in your way, then of course you should kill them.”
“And will you come with us? It would be fun.”
Yefim spoke, “She won’t be there.”
“When will we get the location?”
“I hope to have it soon.”
Hiro extended his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
“I know you will pick the date, but when do you think it would be?”
“Soon. The theater will probably be open by next month. So I would expect to do this in a few weeks.”
“That may not be enough time to get a proper performance together and—”
“Make it happen.”
Swallowing, I nodded. “Okay.”
Hiro gestured at his hand. “Deal?”
I shook his hand. “Deal. . .and. . .thank you for helping.”
“Thank you for the lollipops.” He winked, let go of my hands, and walked off. “We’ll prepare. Have the location soon. I wanted to dye my hair tonight.”
Chapter 28
Misha
Leonid knew I was in Paris which meant that he had eyes on my private plane.
When I left the strip club, I chartered a private jet. To keep up impressions of my still using the private plane, I had my men go on there. They were instructed to leave two hours after me. I would get to St Petersburg before them. While Leonid assumed I was still flying to Russia, I would be in the city.
Hopefully, that gave me a huge advantage.
Throughout my planning, I called Kazimir. He never answered.
I’ll try again right before the plane takes off.
The moment I made it to the airport, I left the limo and ran out.
Earlier, my men had rushed to the stores and bought several laptops along with a long list of other hardware. Several of them hurried behind me, carrying the equipment. They had several Wi-Fi Pineapples which enabled me to connect using any device. Alfa network boards for injecting packets. There were also USB rubber duckies. They worked as a programmed keyboard in the shape of a USB drive. When one plugged it into a computer, it started writing automatically to launch programs and tools. Then, there were LAN turtles to harvest information from the network and give me the capacity to execute a man-in-the-middle attack.
The list went on and on.
I held the lockpicks on me. In most countries, possession of lockpicks was a criminal act. They opened a physical security device by analyzing or manipulating its components logically, without the original key. While the Paris airport would check my scary looking men, they would bypass me.
As soon as I made it to the jet, a stewardess held out a glass of champagne. “Hello, Mr. Stronz.”
I rushed by her and climbed up the stairs. Dima and Anatoly followed, carrying several items. I glanced back. “Be careful with all of that.”
They nodded.
I made it to my seat and began to set up. “Put three laptops over there. I want another two in the front. Have five total around my seat. Start taking the stuff out their boxes.”
They rushed through my orders. More of my men barreled in.
The stewardess entered and widened her eyes. Thankfully for her, she kept her mouth closed and tiptoed to the back.
My phone rang.
I pulled it out and spotted Pavel’s name on the screen. Sighing, I answered, “Hey. I’ve heard. I’m searching for the French right now.”
“Don’t tell me that,” Pavel said. “Tell the Lion.”
I sat down and turned on one of the laptops. “Then put him on the phone.”
“He’s taking a shower.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then call me back. I’m getting everything in place now.”
“Not happening. Before he rushed off to take a shower, he told me to get you on the phone. If you hang up a bomb will be coming your way.”
“Fine.” I placed the phone on speaker and continued setting up. My men fumbled through opening boxes. A few times things fell. I glared. “These tiny devices are more important than your life. Be careful.”
Nothing else dropped.
The stewardess walked over to me. “Mr. Stronz, we will be leaving shortly.”
“Good. Get me a double vodka.”
She nodded and left.
Pavel’s voice filled the jet. “He’s coming now.”
Alright. Time to deal with my dear cousin. Let’s see what level of ‘going to kill me’ is he on.
I picked up the phone, turned off the speaker, and put the device to my ear. “What is he wearing, Pavel?”
“Shirt, pants, and boots. All black.”
I stiffened. “No suit?”
“No.”
That’s level ten on the ‘going to kill me’ scale.
Taking off my tie, I prepared myself for his verbal wrath. Thankfully, I was on a plane heading out of Paris. If we were face to face, there might’ve been some wrestling. Neither of us had time for that.
Kazimir’s voice roared through the line. “Get the Devil’s location right fucking now!”
I set the tie down on the seat next to me. “Pavel explained everything to me. My people are on it now—”
“Your people? Your fucking people are on it? You need to be on it!”
I turned on the second and third laptop. “They contacted Maxwell. Emily talked to him.”
Kazimir growled. “When were you going to tell me this?”
I cleared my throat. “I called your phone.”
“You fucked up. Celina stole my babies? My fucking nukes! No fucking phone call—”
“I thought I had it under control.”
“Emily’s gone!�
�
I went quiet. I had no explanation to give him. I’d fucked up.
Kazimir continued. “Instead of you handling the situation yourself or calling me, you enlist some fucking psychos to track the nukes?”
My heart twisted. There was so much pain in Kazimir’s voice. Never had I heard him sound so scared.
We’re going to get her. Don’t worry, cousin.
I let out a long breath. “Kazimir. . .I’m sorry. You know I. . .I would never want something like this to happen to you. . .I understand. . .my mother. . .”
The line went silent. A quiet Lion was a very deadly one to behold.
I rubbed my weary eyes. “Kazimir, I’ll do anything. I’m on it.”
“You will.” A deadly edge coated his next words. “Because if something happens to Emily, your ballerina will never be able to dance again.”
He hung up.
Rage tornadoed through my chest.
I stared at the phone.
The stewardess set my vodka in front of me. “Would you like anything else, Mr. Stronz?”
“Another vodka.”
She blinked. “Yes, sir.”
The jet took off and I spent the entire flight searching for Kazimir’s nukes, the Devil, and the love of his life.
The whole time, I suffered through the jet’s low-quality connection. The ability to access the internet on a plane came at a high cost. In Europe, service was primarily satellite-based. It was because there wasn’t a single ground-based solution like in the US. Therefore, it was expensive to install and maintain. The jet that I chartered clearly didn’t pay for the top version.
I’ll have to make it work.
An hour later, I delivered the Devil’s location to Kazimir’s phone. Finding the Devil was the easiest part. Once he took the codes, I locked in their tracking and delivered that to Kazimir.
Come on. Come on.
My laptop binged, telling me that his team had received it.
With that done, I switched back to searching out Jean-Pierre. Now and then, Naveen’s hackers spotted him throughout the city. The sightings never lasted for too long. He maneuvered through Paris easily and well-hidden. He clearly knew where all the cameras would be.
So, I let Naveen and his people search for Jean-Pierre while I tried to hack into him and his cousins’ phones.
Damn it. This is going to give me a heart attack.
I had five laptops open and surrounding me. The Corsican’s security system was difficult to hack into. Not even Circuit could crack it. He’d emailed three times during the flight to tell me. Thus, I spent the rest of the hours breaking into it.