by Geri Krotow
Mishka figured Ivanov was gun-shy after Vadim got locked up and concerned that Kit would say more to implicate additional ROC operatives. But Kit didn’t know anything past Vadim’s world, and had known very little of that. His father had kept her in a bubble, giving her enough leash so she wouldn’t go to the authorities.
Until she had.
Anger flared again, and his hands shook as he placed the explosive devices on the undercarriage of the Jeep. His remaining ROC contacts had told him exactly where to put the bombs to guarantee maximum damage and effect. He detested crawling around on the ground like an animal. He expected his underlings to do this kind of work, the ones who’d stayed loyal to Vadim and him after Vadim was sentenced.
A rock cut into his knee and he jerked, the meaty part of his upper arm hitting the car body. A shrill, deafening car alarm rent the air.
“Damn it!” He scrambled to his feet and ran to the shelter of the surrounding trees. If Kit or the man came outside now, they might see him before he had a chance to activate the bombs. It would ruin his plans, or at least delay them during the extra time it would take to put down the man. The feel of the handgun under his hand, still holstered, boosted his confidence.
He hid behind a large tree and waited, but no one appeared. The siren continued, and he began to wonder if anyone was in the cabin. Maybe they’d gone hunting. He snorted. Kit was no hunter.
He fingered the burner phone and weighed his options. It seemed a waste to have such a major explosion without anyone to witness it. Yet today was the only time he could get away with it, before the hoards of hunters drove up into the mountain area in preparation for open deer season on Monday. And taking Kit’s only viable means of quick transportation away was important.
What was that stupid saying? In for a ruble, in for it all?
Mishka depressed the cell phone button that ignited the explosive and plugged his ears.
* * *
Kit breathed in the sauna’s cedar-scented air, relishing the hot wooden wall behind her back. When was the last time she’d been in a sauna? Only once since she’d left her sham marriage, when the girls went to Hershey Spa to celebrate Annie’s marriage to Josh last summer. It had been okay then, since she was with a group and felt safe.
Vadim had kept a monstrous sauna in the pool room on his property. She knew most folks thought she’d lived in luxury in the mansion on a beautiful estate adjacent the Appalachian Trail, but to her it had been no more than a prison. Her entire life had been with a beast in a steel cage, having to watch every step around the beast that was Vadim, especially when he drank.
But this—this time with Luther was revelatory. She couldn’t think of a time when she’d felt safer, except maybe when her ex had finally been locked up for good. Even then she’d always feared a reprisal from ROC or Mishka for what she’d done, providing evidence to take down a key criminal in Silver Valley and in fact Pennsylvania. Vadim’s many human trafficking crimes were documented and listed as charges in his indictment.
She moved to rest her back against the wall and stretched her legs in front of her on the cedar bench. The sauna was dry but had a bucket of water next to the heater. It made her smile, knowing Luther had taken the time and forethought to fill the pail and get the sauna to the right temperature.
None of it matched the heated exchange they’d shared, though. As much as he’d made love to her, ensured her extreme pleasure and forgone his, she still recognized that it had been a couples event. His eyes had reflected emotions she was afraid to label, and she was certain hers had, too.
Impossible. They’d only known one another for what, ten days? A memory of Annie telling her how Colt and Claudia knew they were destined to be together after only knowing each other for a day flitted through her thoughts.
It was highly improbable, but definitely within the realm of possibility to fall for someone she’d just met.
You’ve fallen for him?
She shook her head, loosened the belt on her robe a bit. It had to be the postclimax effect, to be thinking this way. It was only normal after her first shared orgasm. Vadim, besides being abusive, had never once considered her response. She’d learned to fake it, to make him think he was giving her pleasure. It kept their most intimate interactions to a minimum, especially as he aged and the progression of his alcoholism took away his ability to have an erection.
Kit blinked. Having the orgasm with Luther wasn’t the only first for today. She was actually looking at her ex and that horrific excuse for a marriage with a detached, clinical eye. Her therapist had been right.
One day, when you least expect it, you’ll wake up and realize that the life of trauma you survived is no longer running your life.
Tears brimmed, and unlike the many she’d shed during her years of therapy and healing, these were an outlet of the joy that welled in her chest and squeezed her heart.
Life was good, indeed.
On the other side of the wall the shower’s running water stopped, and she allowed a smile to stretch across her face. Luther was on the way to the sauna. Despite his insistence that they’d be together in a more appropriate place after the op was over, she thought that maybe it was time to see how far she’d healed. Was she ready to be sexually assertive with him?
A high-pitched noise sounded from faraway, and she stilled, thinking it could be water running through the pipe or maybe she was misinterpreting a hawk’s cry. But an animal’s sounds wouldn’t pierce the walls of the bathhouse.
When the noise continued, she swung her legs down and stood. As she reached for the sauna door, the floor rose up under her and she flew back through the air, her bottom hitting the floor of the sauna as a loud boom percussed. The building shook, and the back of her head hit the low bench, sending stars across her vision.
“Kit!” A deep bellow, as though a mountain lion were on the other side of the door.
“I’m here.” She shouted back, but her words were no more than a hoarse whisper. Luther would never hear her. Fear started to break through her pain.
The door burst open, bringing hope and a surge of cold air.
Luther.
“Kit.” He knelt next to her in the dark, and his breath washed over her cheek. “Can you hear me?”
She blinked, slowly grasping that she was resting on her elbows, her legs spread wide, her robe gaping. “Y-yes. I hit my head. I’m fine.” She moved to rise, and his hands, which had been feeling her head, her neck and back, helped her up.
“Easy.” She stood, and to her relief her legs hadn’t betrayed her. They were as sturdy as ever.
“I’m good.” She met his gaze and nodded, then winced. “My head’s going to hurt later, but I didn’t lose consciousness.”
“You’ve got a bump, so you should be fine.”
Another smaller explosion sounded and she gripped his arm. “What is that?”
His mouth was in a straight line. “I’m afraid it’s the Jeep. We’ve got to get out of here.” With no preamble he half carried, half pushed her out of the sauna, and they walked the few steps to where her clothing hung. “Are you steady? I need you to get dressed and get ready to go.”
“Go where?” Fueled by adrenaline, she was already putting on her underwear, followed by her pants, socks and hiking boots. Luther had impressed the need to always have good sturdy footwear even if only going to the bathroom.
“Away from here.” He moved next to her and she heard the scrape of cloth, his zipper, the stamp of his feet into his shoes.
“Okay.” She put her jacket on and zipped it, felt inside the pockets for her gloves. All she had were thin knit; she’d left her heavy-duty pair in the cabin. “I’m ready.”
“Here.” His hand hit her arm in the inky darkness, and he felt down to her hand, pressing something hard and metal into it. “It’s a .22. You can handle it no problem. If anything happens to me, don�
��t hesitate to fire at whoever’s out there, and then get out of here. Go down the mountain but keep in the woods, out of sight of the road and anyone driving on it. Wait for SVPD or TH to show up and make sure it’s them before you reveal yourself.”
He fired the orders at her not unlike how she’d heard Colt brief SVPD before they went into a dangerous house, or when Claudia gave her elite agents a briefing before an ROC operative takedown. What was unusual was to have the words aimed at her.
“You’re forgetting that I can’t do this, Luther.” She held the gun out to thin air. “I’m not licensed, I’m unsworn, I—”
“You’re a target. Keep it out for now, then put it in your pants waistband once we get going. Do you know how to fire it?”
“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate but knew he’d trust her. All those hours with Vadim, practicing his favorite hobby, had made her an expert shot. Vadim had his own firing range in the basement of the huge house they’d occupied, and she’d found respite there. Firing a weapon gave her a sense of control in a situation that was out of control. At one point she regretted not using her expertise on Vadim, to escape her life. But she’d vowed not to break the law to gain her freedom. And it had worked out.
“Come on.” He grabbed her other hand with unerring accuracy and held it up to his backpack, already securely strapped to him. “Hang on to the pack, or my jacket, feel along the wall, follow my voice.”
They moved faster than she’d thought was possible in total darkness and all she heard were their steps and her heartbeats. Within minutes that felt like hours they stood behind a copse of evergreens, judging from the scrape of needles against her face and the pine scent. The night air bit through her clothing and she longed for her ski cap. Wet hair and freezing temperatures didn’t mix.
As they waited, her eyes adjusted and the sliver of moonlight that cut through the treetops began to illuminate the property right behind the cabin. The Jeep wasn’t visible on the other side of the building, but she smelled an acrid odor and saw flashes of light that were undoubtedly flames.
Someone had blown up the Jeep.
Her insides began to shake from the severity of the attack against them, but she forced her core muscles to tighten around her center, the antianxiety and calming skills she’d learned kicking in on autopilot. Kit knew to remain silent, as she’d participated in plenty of surveillance ops. Of course before this, she’d been safely ensconced in an unmarked van or truck, monitoring comms on her screen.
Her laptop. Mentally she thought about where she’d left it and then remembered Luther had packed up the most essential comms gear into his backpack, including her small laptop. The stress of their situation was affecting her. At least she recognized it.
The sound of heavy feet on wet leaves alerted her, and she strained her eyes to make out the male figure walking around the back of the cabin.
Mishka.
He walked up to the door, climbed the two steps and pounded on the door. “Come out, Kit! I know you’re in there.”
She fought against the gasp that worked past her lips, clapping her hand over her mouth. How had he found her?
Luther reached back and gave her forearm a reassuring squeeze. Relief flooded her, but her body remained poised to run at the drop of a pin.
More door pounding. When he tried to open the door, she couldn’t help grinning to herself from their hidden post. Like her, Mishka must have thought the door was nothing more than a flimsy piece of wood. He’d never get through the four-inch-thick steel door, and short of blowing up the cabin like he had the Jeep, the cabin would remain off-limits to him.
He left the stoop, swearing loudly in Russian and she tensed. Mishka’s voice sounded eerily similar to Vadim’s, and it would be easy to believe she was back where she’d started all those years ago, at Vadim’s mercy.
No. You’re here. Luther is right next to you. You are safe.
A giggle snaked up her throat and she squashed it. While her usual affirmations proved helpful, the safety of her or Luther wasn’t totally clear.
The sound of something hard hitting a window brought her back from her thoughts, grounded her. Mishka was attempting to break in through the tiny window, which his hulking form would never get through. As she watched, the glass didn’t even crack. Kit hadn’t thought to ask Luther about the window, but now realized it was made of bulletproof and Mishka-proof glass.
“I know you’re out here, Kit!” he screamed, and she startled, taking a half step backward. A branch snapped under her sole and she froze, praying the sound didn’t break through Mishka’s frenzied fit.
Luther raised his arm to her chest, as she continued to hold her breath.
“Who’s out there? I hear you, Kit!” Mishka’s voice cut through her. “Come on out, Kit. I’m not going away and you’ll never get into the cabin again. I forgive you for being with this stranger. Who is he? FBI? Don’t listen to whatever they’ve told you to do. Come out to me now and we’re cool.”
“The only person here has a hunting rifle aimed at the target between your eyes. Get the hell off my property.” Luther’s voice rang out and if Kit were Mishka, she’d already be running.
“I’ll never listen to you.” Mishka’s snarl made bile rise, burning the back of her throat. Without preamble Mishka fired into the trees where they stood.
Kit screamed.
Chapter 15
As long as he lived, Luther would never forget the sound of Kit’s scream as bullets hit the trunks near them, sending bark flying and he and Kit to the ground.
A piercing heat flooded his upper thigh and he swore under his breath.
“You okay?” Kit was right next to him, but he knew she didn’t know he’d been hit. And he couldn’t let her, or she’d become an easy mark for Mishka.
“You need to go now, Kit.” He spoke through gritted teeth as bullets flew and Mishka had what sounded like a mental breakdown. The jerk wasn’t going to go peacefully, and he didn’t want Kit near this. “I’m going to keep talking to him, keep him behind the cabin. Head out to the front of it, then use the road as your guide. Go!”
He expected her to start running and moved aside to let her pass. Her hands reached up and grabbed his face, and she planted a firm kiss on his lips. “Be safe, Luther.”
She disappeared through the trees, and he turned his attention back to Mishka. The man was still yelling.
“Kit! I know you’re here.”
“She’s not.” Luther stepped closer, still leaving enough room to duck behind a tree if needed. The moon’s glow kept the area behind the cabin lit up almost to daylight proportions with the reflection off the thin layer of snow, and his enemy was smart enough to stay in the shadow cast by the building, but not quite genius. Luther saw the outline of the man, and more importantly, his weapon, against the fresh snow on the shrubbery.
The unmistakable profile of an AR-15 made his blood run cold. He and Kit were lucky they hadn’t been killed by the spray of bullets Mishka had already fired. He could only hope the shot his leg had taken was a graze, but from the deep fire in his thigh, he doubted it.
Kit.
She’d be safe—that’s all that mattered. He clenched his teeth against the pain. He’d been through worse.
“Come on out, Mishka, and let’s talk this over, man-to-man.”
“Only if you send Kit out first.” The coward thought he was dealing with a stupid ROC operative.
Luther heard the desperation that trickled into the jerk’s voice. And he hadn’t fired again, which Luther hoped meant that he hadn’t had a chance to reload. He’d gone through a clip’s worth of rounds, or close to it.
“I can’t do that because she’s not here.” Luther moved closer, keeping his eye on Mishka. A loud thud sounded to the left of the building and he held his breath, knowing Mishka heard it, too. Luther had given away his location with his voice, so Mis
hka knew it wasn’t him.
Run, Kit, run.
Mishka fired into the air. “Kit! Stop this nonsense.”
Luther wasn’t about to allow Mishka a chance at getting Kit. The thought of what the bastard would do to her wasn’t a place he could allow his mind to go and remain sane. Sweat began to pour from his temples and into his eyes; he knew it was a sign of shock—his body had done this before.
But he’d never had a woman who’d meant so much to him, in so short a time, also be at risk.
Save Kit.
“You don’t want her, Mishka. You want me.” Keeping his weapon ready to fire, Luther stepped into the clearing. Anything to distract the madman. Anything to save the woman who meant more to him—
“Put your weapon down, lawman.” Mishka’s weapon was pointed at him, but Luther saw that his face was still pointing toward the trees where they’d heard Kit trip. Luther had heard her feet when she rose and was confident she’d gotten at least to the edge of the clearing but couldn’t be sure.
“I’m a sure shot, Mishka. Drop your weapon.” Luther prepared to fire, but the ground swelled beneath him as Mishka’s image dipped. He blinked, willing back the nausea and black dots that closed in on him.
Luther pulled the trigger but never heard the shot go off as he dropped to the ground, unable to maintain consciousness.
Kit.
* * *
Kit half ran, half limped through the trees, on the path she and Luther had found yesterday when they’d begun their hike. She had to fight every instinct to run back to Luther, to tell him to stop talking to Mishka. Her former stepson was a maniac, just like his father, and would kill Luther if given the chance.
More shots fired and she kept going, knowing that her and Luther’s survival depended on her getting to the road and then doing as Luther had instructed—keeping to the trees but following the dirt road back to the main highway. It’d take her all night.
She sent up a prayer that the quiet behind her was because Luther had neutralized Mishka, and nearly cried in relief when she saw that she was past the cabin, beyond where the Jeep was parked.
