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“Yes, but these were stolen. These are three of the eight that were lost?—”
“Yes, when your own country turned on their leader and had him slaughtered,” Henry smiled. “They didn’t even have a proper burial. Thrown in some pit, only to be dug up fifty-some years later. I can see why you would hold these eggs in such high regard,” he said sarcastically.
The Russians tensed and I knew things were about to get bad. I took a hesitant step forward, hoping to get them both to back down. “But technically, the English and the Russians are related.”
“We are not,” the Russian scoffed, spitting on the ground.
“Uh…yes, you are,” I said quickly, hoping I was remembering my history as well as I thought. “Queen Victoria had children and grandchildren married off all across Europe. In fact, King George was cousins with the Emperor, wasn’t he?”
“And where was King George when the Emperor needed his help?” the Russian spat. “He abandoned him! He is no family. No Englishman will ever be friend or family.”
“He wouldn’t have needed saving if he hadn’t destroyed his own country!” Allsebrook shouted.
Well, it looked like pointing out the familial ties wasn’t the way to go. If anything, I probably made it worse.
“Maybe you should keep your mouth shut,” Ivan suggested quietly.
I nodded. “Good idea.”
“Gentlemen,” Ivan stepped forward. “It appears we have a bit of a situation on our hands.” He turned to Allsebrook. “I can understand that you want the eggs. They are yours, after all.”
The Russians yelled something at Ivan and the temperature in the room kicked up ten degrees.
Ivan held up his hand to silence them. “However, it would only be fair that whoever offers the best price will receive the eggs.”
What? That was not part of the deal. It was supposed to be the eggs in exchange for my life. Now he was going to allow them to bid on the eggs? Where did that leave me? If Allsebrook outbid the Russians, there would be no way the price on my head would disappear. I would be as good as dead.
Suddenly, aligning myself with Ivan didn’t look like it was going to pan out so well for me.
“We had a deal,” the Russian spat.
“Ah, but that is life, my friend.”
“I’ll give you ten million,” Allsebrook announced.
“You know they’re worth more than that.”
“Yes, I do. She stole them from me, after all.”
I felt like the bidding was on my head as the Russians countered. Allsebrook didn’t give in, tossing out escalating numbers every time the Russians raised the bid. I let my eyes roam over the room, even though I was supposed to be solely focused on the bidding. I couldn’t help but wonder where OPS was, if they were listening, and if they had a way out of this for me.
“Enough!” the Russian shouted, drawing a second gun and pointing it right at Ivan. “I will shoot you right now and take what is mine!”
“That would not be wise,” Ivan said, all traces of humor gone from his expression.
“And why not?”
I gasped when I saw the dot on the Russian’s chest. That wasn’t part of the plan either. There weren’t supposed to be any snipers in any part of this scenario. Yes, OPS was there for the grand finale, but we never discussed having an all-out war!
The Russian looked down and brushed at the red dot on his chest. His eyes scanned the building, finally settling on the northwest corner. I followed his line of sight, surprised when someone stepped out of the shadows from the second floor landing. I had no idea who he was, but Ivan laughed as if the whole thing was hilarious.
“Who are you?” the Russian asked.
The man slowly walked down the wooden stairs, his eyes never leaving the Russians. “I am Peter….the direct descendant of Peter Carl Fabergé. These eggs…they belong to me.”
Talk about mind blown. I wasn’t sure what I was more surprised about—that this man had somehow found us, or that he was French.
“They do not belong to you, French Swine!” the Russian shouted.
