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Sold to the Pakhans

Page 69

by Lisa Cullen

Anika stumbled again, and this time it had nothing to do with the water. “You’re walking into a firing squad.”

“Not until he has the evidence, and he won’t kill me.” Not right away. I hid my gun beneath my jacket. “He expects me to bargain. I’ll give him a fucking performance while you disappear.”

No one stopped to debate. Roman attached a transmitter beneath my vest while Kirill traded his knife for my spare magazine. Anika watched Roman test my transmitter, then followed Kirill’s movements when he pressed the knife into my hand with a firm nod.

Understanding pushed some of the fear from her face. “You aren’t afraid they’ll leave you up there. You know they’ll come back.”

“I’m afraid of a great many things tonight.” I touched Mikhail’s head, then cupped her cold cheek. “That isn’t one of them. This is who we are. This is the truth of us, something a man like Sokolov will never understand.” I kissed her hard and fast, then turned to Roman. “Bring our daughter home.”

His hand closed over mine, patting twice. “Keep Sokolov busy.”

“With pleasure.” I turned away, but a tug on my sleeve stopped me.

Mikhail peered up at me, teeth chattering. “You promised you’d get my mom out.”

“I don’t break promises to children.” I ruffled his hair, and the immediate snapping of his shoulders into a defensive position broke my heart. “Stay with Anika. Kirill will handle everything else. You have no reason to trust us, and I won’t ask for it. I only ask you to follow Kirill.”

He turned away from me without agreeing, and I respected him for that.

Anika kissed me again, her chest pressed hard against mine. “Come back to us.” Her grip on my waist tightened. “That’s not a request.”

“Good. I prefer it when you order me around.” It was a refreshing change from my own darkness. I turned her by the shoulders. “I’ll see you after.”

She followed Kirill into the dark. Roman slipped the other way, everyone I loved vanishing in opposite directions. Every instinct demanded I follow them. Before Anika, I would’ve attacked the strongest position, turned Kirill loose, and let the chips fall. That decision would get a child killed tonight, so I trusted my brothers and turned toward the ladder.

The shaft spiraled through wet brick, the plop, plop of water creating a discordant sound for me to enjoy as I grasped the slimy rungs on the ladder and climbed. Boots scraped across the metal above me, followed by the click of a rifle moving into position.

Sokolov’s men waited for me, and the transmitter in my jacket pulsed three times as I drove my shoulder through the hatch. Freezing rain struck my face while wind snapped loose tarps against shipping containers. Floodlights illuminated enough rifle barrels to confirm Sokolov had brought half his fucking army to watch me kneel.

The man himself stood beside a black SUV, an umbrella protecting him while his soldiers closed in around me. No surveillance photograph had ever captured the pure satisfaction pulling his mouth into a snide smile, but it did so now that he believed he’d finally separated us for good.

“Where is the evidence?” He extended one hand as though I’d crossed the dock to give him a gift.

“You’ve spent years studying us, and still made the stupidest mistake possible.” I stepped fully into the circle of guns, giving Roman and Kirill every second my body could buy. “You might own this dock, but this is our world.”

34

ROMAN

The storm drain narrowed until the bricks scraped both shoulders, tearing the fabric and my skin. No time to worry or care. Black water swallowed in the distance, the drag of my knees in the fetid stench more than enough to make a romp in the Hudson River a treat. I dragged myself along the space and shoved away every thought of what Sokolov might be doing to Nora.

A small light flashed ahead, and I burst into motion coming up to the edge of the tunnel with a gun in hand. The world took shape around me, and I realized the frigid air battering me came with the broken expanse of a decommissioned ferry terminal. Rain hammered the metal ramp, hiding the noise as I forced open the rusted grate and climbed onto the concrete.

My tablet reconnected before I reached the maintenance ladder. Three dark vehicles had left the shipyard and turned north, moving toward me. Windows covered most of the outer walls. The ticket lobby gave the road an unobstructed view, and broken glass glittered across the rain-streaked floor. A collapsed ceiling blocked the service rooms, forcing me through an old baggage corridor that smelled like mold and river water.

The painted number three remained on the final door. Fresh scratches marked the floor where something heavy had been dragged in front of it. I checked Alina’s map, noting the scratched-in number three in the corner. That had to be it, but if I was wrong or if Alina had set us up, again, then this might be my last breath.

Fuck it. This was for Anika and Nora. I knocked twice. “Alina sent me.” I stepped closer when movement scuffled on the other side. “My name is Roman Volkov.”

“What’s the password?” The tiny, feminine voice sounded almost as demanding as Anika.

Password? I checked the map again. No one had mentioned a password. Wait. When we sent men to get Nora and Miss Helen from the apartment. Hadn’t Anika told me that Nora had a safe word? “Moonbeam.” I practically clasped my hands and prayed that I’d gotten it right.

A bolt scraped back, and the door opened far enough for a shotgun barrel to press against my chest. The woman behind it had silver braids and a steady grip. The kind that said she was not fucking around and was fully prepared to pull the trigger.

“Who the fuck are you?” The barrel pushed harder against my chest.

I kept my palms open. “Roman Volkov. Who are you and where’s Nora?”