Page 141 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

My laugh dies in my throat, and Kathryn looks up from the rug.

Mikhail puts down his card. “Are you helping Dmitri?”

I kneel in front of him. “Yes.”

“Is he winning?”

“Not yet,” I say, brushing his hair back. “We’re trying.”

His small hand finds my sleeve. “Are you scared?”

I cup his cheek. “A little.”

Mikhail thinks hard, then crawls to the toys near the cushion. He picks up the blue car with the scratched door and the wheel that sticks, then places it in my palm.

“Blue crashes,” he says with great seriousness. “But blue keeps racing.”

I close my fingers around the car and pull him close. “Then I’ll take blue.”

Kathryn walks me to the door.

“She comes back,” Kathryn says, looking over my shoulder at Sergei.

Sergei nods once. “She comes back.”

Downstairs, Dmitri waits near the side entrance in a black coat, bare hands at his sides. He sees the blue car in my fist, and something moves across his face before he locks it down.

I close my fingers around the toy. “I’m coming back.”

“You are,” Dmitri says, and then his eyes move to my hand. “He gave you that?”

“Yes.”

His throat moves. “Red is with me.”

“I know.”

Dmitri steps closer and lowers his voice. “The wire stays on. You speak if anything feels wrong. If I tell you to walk out, you walk out.”

I lift my chin. “If I tell you Patrick is watching, you give Yuri time to catch the trace.”

His eyes harden, but he nods.

Abramov checks the wire under my coat collar with gloved hands. “Clear.”

Outside, the gray morning gives us cold pavement, dark vehicles, and men trying to look like drivers, workers, and strangers.

I’m about to take the planned route with Mikhail’s blue car in my pocket, a wire against my skin, and Volkov protection spread far enough back to let Patrick believe I am alone.

My phone lights up. The number is blocked, but the first line tells me who sent it.

Thirty minutes. Front Desk. Come alone.

34

DMITRI

Cara’s phone rings while we stand under the side portico, ready to move.