Kozlov glared at Petrov. “If you make such a decision, you’ll regret it.”
Petrov nodded. “Then don’t give me a reason to carry out my promises.”
Black leaned against the bar and watched as Kozlov navigated through the maze of patrons packed together. When he looked at Irina, she gave no hint that the two were acquainted. And given the fact that she had to use an umbrella in her drink to signal to him who she was, there wasn’t any indication that Kozlov and Irina knew each other outside of online interactions. But Black couldn’t be sure, especially since he was unable to see all the micro expressions on their faces.
She smiled and raised her glass at Petrov once Kozlov pointed at the FSB agent. Petrov grinned as his eyebrows shot upward. He raised his glass and mouthed “spasibo” to her. The suave move impressed Black. However, he was disturbed by the ease at which Petrov spiked her drink, something he’d obviously done many times before.
I wonder if that’s how he met his wife.
Black turned to Petrov. “So, what’s the plan now?”
“In about two minutes, I’m going to walk over to the table to speak with Irina. Five minutes later, we’re going to escort her out the back and to my car.”
Petrov walked across the dance floor to the other side of the room where Irina was standing—but barely. Her knees were shaking, and the slap-happy smile she wore on her face a few minutes earlier had faded.
Right as Petrov strode up to the table, a man who appeared to be in his twenties hustled past Petrov and started talking with Irina. She waved him off, but he insisted on helping her, placing her arm around his neck and easing her toward the door.
* * *
PETROV GLARED AT the young man who was about to wreck all of the plans the FSB agent had for Irina. For a moment, it appeared as though the man was going to whisk her away. Petrov realized he had to do something quickly, and something that didn’t involve starting a fight. He decided to use his charm.
“Thank you, sir,” Petrov said as he held out a hundred dollar bill. “I’ll take my girlfriend from here. She’s been known to have too much to drink from time to time.”
The man eyed Petrov suspiciously. “You’re her date?”
Petrov nodded.
“I didn’t see you with her the entire night,” the man persisted.
“I just got off work.”
The man scowled, still clinging to Irina. “I know Irina. She always comes here alone.”
Petrov narrowed his eyes and pulled back one side of his coat to reveal his gun. “I suggest you let go of her before I find something to arrest you on. I hear Lefortovo is a horrible place to be in the winter.”
The man threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I was just trying to help.”
Petrov nodded, the money still visible in his hand. “And I appreciate that.”
Then the man reached for the money, but Petrov drew it back and clucked his tongue while shaking his head.
“You had your chance,” Petrov said. “Now, I’ll take Irina from here.”
The FSB agent collected Irina and then nodded back at the American and Kozlov before exiting through the back of the club.
* * *
WHEN IRINA AWOKE, she was lying on the hotel room bed. She sat up, teetered for a moment, and then crashed over onto her right side. After a series of groans, she asked where she was and what she was doing there.
Black sat at a small desk in the corner of the room, still considering making a break for it. Leaving now would leave Petrov with a quandary. But without a car or documents, escaping St. Petersburg would be a near-superhuman feat. Instead, Black decided to wait out the situation and look for a better opportunity to escape.
“Please,” Irina said, “what do you want with me?”
“We need some information from you,” Petrov said with a reassuring pat on her leg.
She drew back, her face twisted with fear. “Why would I help you? Look what you’ve done to me.”
“It’s for your country, Irina,” he said.
“My country? The one that had my uncle hanged? The one that left my family in so much poverty that my sister died from starvation? That country? No, that country can go to hell. I’m leaving.”
She swung her legs around to the edge of the bed and scooted off it. When she stood, Petrov moved directly in front of her, just inches away.
“You will sit back down and tell me what I need to know,” Petrov said as he revealed his weapon.
Irina complied, though in a rebellious manner. She eased back down into a sitting position on the bed as if she was pretending to be in slow motion.
“Don’t try anything like that again,” Petrov said. “Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”
She balled up her fists as her nostrils flared. Her visible defiance in the presence of a man who wouldn’t have any qualms about putting a bullet in her head impressed Black. He’d rarely seen such disdain exhibited outwardly in the presence of a captor. To Black, it was obvious that she embodied the phrase “live free or die.”
After a minute of silence, Petrov knelt in front of her and locked eyes with her. “I’m only going to ask this question once. Every time you refuse to answer questions to my satisfaction, I’m going to dole out a punishment.”
He pulled out another gun, this one a revolver. After releasing the cylinder, he showed her it was empty before placing one cartridge inside. He spun the cylinder before closing it.
“What do you think, Agent Black?” Petrov asked as he glanced at his American prisoner. “Getting to play Russian roulette in the country where this wonderful game was invented must be a special treat for you.”
Black shrugged. “I don’t think this is necessary.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Agent Black. This is very necessary because if I’m not willing to kill the woman, she won’t be willing to give me the information I require. Isn’t that right, Irina?”
She narrowed her gaze and pursed her lips. “You are a monster. I did nothing to you.”
“Perhaps friendly persuasion would work just the same,” Kozlov offered.
“Shut your mouth or else I’ll make you a participant as well,” Petrov said as he pointed at the hacker. “And remember, if she doesn’t talk, you will suffer the same fate she does.”
“Please, Irina,” Kozlov said, his eyes pleading with her. “Tell him what he asks. I don’t want to die. I have a wife and she doesn’t deserve to be widowed at such a young age.”
Petrov backhanded Kozlov and then shoved him against the wall. “Not another word from you.”
Irina took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “What is it you want to know?”
“Much better,” Petrov said. “What was so difficult about that?”
“Hurry up before I change my mind,” she said with a snarl.
“I am looking for a friend of yours,” Petrov said as he paced back and front of her. “He goes by the name of DarkNite. Do you happen to know his whereabouts?”
Irina’s eyes widened. “DarkNite? You want me to give him up?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
“My job is to make sure no one ever knows who he is. That’s how I make my living, keeping his true identity secret and managing all his assignments. If I tell you where he is, I have the feeling you’re going to kill him. And then where would that leave me? At the mercy of my country, which has shown me how horrible she really is?”
“There are worse situations.”
“I’m not sure I can do it,” she said.
Petrov grabbed the revolver and placed it against her head. She winced and braced for Petrov’s next move. Without hesitating, he pulled the trigger amidst Kozlov and Black pleading for the FSB agent to stop.
Click.
No bullet was fired.
“Now, are you ready to talk?” Petrov asked. “Or do you want to keep playing? It’s your choice.”
“Okay,” she said. “If you promise not to hurt me, I’
ll tell you where he lives and I swear I won’t tell him you’re coming.”
Petrov nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll also put a surveillance detail on you. And if DarkNite isn’t there, I will have the men grab you and deliver you to Lefortovo. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent,” Petrov said with a smile. “Now that our negotiations are out of the way, tell me what I want to know. Where do I find this DarkNite?”
“In a small village in the northeastern corner of Turkey,” she said. “I’ll write down his address.”
Petrov handed her a sheet of paper from the hotel stationary on the desk. He offered a thin smile as he inspected the address. He turned toward Black and Kozlov.
“Comrades, it’s time to complete our journey and get what we’re all after.”
CHAPTER 19
Washington, D.C.
J.D. BLUNT HUSTLED toward the front steps of the Capitol Building. The urgency in Dixon’s voice during her phone call put Blunt on edge. If his contacts couldn’t find any dirt on her beyond a speeding ticket, the likelihood that she had transformed into a criminal overnight seemed low. And given the fact that she was also being blackmailed, Blunt couldn’t help but conclude someone was aggressively targeting her to get her removed. The looming question for him was why.
As Blunt considered all the possibilities of why the FBI would be arresting her, he knew he needed to get to her first and have one last conversation free of watchful eyes and ears. But when he heard the hum of the media hive buzzing near the doors, he realized he was too late. He watched as journalists and cameramen swarmed around Dixon. She kept her head down, shielding her face from their efforts to capture a look of pain or embarrassment.
He rushed over to her side, knifing his way through the moving throng that tried to keep pace with her. Blunt didn’t want to attract any attention with his mere presence and obvious gesture of support, but he couldn’t let her twist in the wind. He locked eyes with her, and then she glanced at her lawyer before whispering in his ear.
Once the federal agents ushered her into a black SUV parked along the curb, Dixon’s lawyer, Robert Norton, nodded at Blunt.
“Check her office,” Norton mouthed.
Blunt nodded and promptly worked his way upstream against the crush of the journalists, which edged nearer to capture a sullen Dixon for the next twenty-four-hour news cycle. Once Blunt emerged from the pack, he walked quickly back to the Capitol Building.
A few minutes later, he reached the reception area to Dixon’s office and knocked. A disheveled young man looked up from his computer monitor and then nudged his glasses up his nose.
“Can I help you, sir?” the man asked.
Blunt nodded. “Actually, I was—”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Senator Blunt. I didn’t realize that was you. The congresswoman told me you might come by and had something for you. Follow me.”
The man stood and then led Blunt to a small conference room. Inside, an envelope was situated in the center of the table with Blunt’s name on it.
“She wanted you to have that,” the man said. “You can read it here if you like. Take all the time you need.”
Blunt thanked the man before he left and then snatched up the packet. The Firestorm director eased into a chair before removing all the documents. Blunt’s eyes widened as he flipped through page after page detailing the federal charges being brought against the congresswoman.
“This can’t be true,” he muttered to himself.
If there was one thing he knew about Dixon, it was that she prided herself on knowing the law. That’s what had propelled her to seek out a seat in Congress in the first place. So, the idea that she willingly broke the law made Blunt all the more curious about who was behind this attack against her and why. She wasn’t the most powerful woman in Congress by a long shot, yet someone was leveraging everything they could to get Dixon removed.
A knock on the door interrupted Blunt’s thoughts. He stood and then opened the door, coming face to face with Dixon’s husband, Phillip. Lines creased his forehead as he entered the room and greeted Blunt.
Phillip crumpled into one of the chairs and buried his head in his hands. “J.D., I just don’t understand what’s going on. You’ve known Adrianna forever. She’d never do anything like what they’re accusing her of.”
Blunt sat in the seat next to Phillip. “Of course not. She’s not like the sewer rats that have run things here for so long.”
“Exactly,” Phillip said as he raised his head, his voice quaking. “She’s a paragon of virtue, intent on fixing all the things that are wrong with our government.”
“Well, I’ve known Norton for a long time, too. And if there’s any lawyer in this city who can expose how absurd these charges are, it’s him.”
Phillip reached for the papers in the middle and scanned some of the charges. “How is this even possible? It says that she sold off some of her stocks to avoid losing money from shares that were about to be devalued. And it says that she saved in excess of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That’s crazy. We’ve never had that kind of money just sitting around in accounts. I’m pretty meticulous with our finances.”
“Why don’t you check then,” Blunt said.
Phillip’s eyes widened as he stared at the screen on his phone. “No way. This can’t be.”
“What is it?” Blunt asked.
Phillip stared slack-jawed for a moment before answering. “One of our accounts has two hundred and fifty thousand more dollars in it now than it did just a few days ago.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Phillip said. “I check these accounts all the time. There’s no way I’d miss something like that.”
“When did it say that money was deposited?” Blunt asked. “Because the charges listed here say that it happened two months ago.”
Phillip sighed. “Well, that should be easily provable in court that wherever that money came from, it wasn’t from the sale of shares.”
“Just look it up to be sure.”
Blunt watched Phillip tap away on the screen of his phone before he gasped incredulously. “You’ve gotta be kidding me?”
“What is it?”
“You said that the federal charges claimed that money was two months ago, right?”
“Uh, huh,” Blunt said, knowing what was coming. “Two months ago exactly from today.”
“Well, I don’t believe it,” Phillip said. “According to my bank account, it was deposited two months ago today.”
“What about your statements?” Blunt asked.
“We don’t receive paper statements anymore, just electronic ones that we download at any time.”
“Check those too, just in case.”
A few seconds later and more groans from Phillip. “I just don’t believe this.”
“Believe it,” Blunt said as he stood. “Someone with a lot of resources is targeting your wife, and you best believe that they’re going to throw everything including the kitchen sink at her.”
“But what has she done? I mean, it’s Adrianna. She’s one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met.”
Blunt chuckled. “I don’t know if sweet is a word I’d use to describe her, but she’s definitely compassionate and kind. But that may not matter in this case. She could be completely innocent, but if someone wants her out of Congress, they’re going to move heaven and earth to see it through. We’re gonna have a fight on our hands.”
“We?” Phillip asked, a faint smile breaking across his face. “You’re gonna help her?”
“Damn straight,” Blunt said. “If anything to expose who’s doing this. Because this isn’t the work of amateurs.”
Blunt told Phillip to be in touch after warning him not to talk with any members of the media. Then Blunt grabbed the list of federal charges off the table and tucked them under his arm.
As Blunt strode out of the office and walked through the halls of the Capitol Building, he drew in a deep breat
h and exhaled slowly. This hallowed ground had been his domain for years before retiring, and he didn’t miss it one bit.
But Blunt was still on the same mission, if in a different position. He wanted to make sure American freedoms didn’t get trampled on at home or abroad. Yet Adrianna Dixon’s were getting stampeded from within.
And Blunt wasn’t going to let up until he identified who it was and made them pay.
CHAPTER 20
Tbilisi, Georgia
TITUS BLACK SLUNG the backpack over his shoulder as he prepared to exit the plane. While there were several opportunities for him to escape from Petrov’s ever-watchful eye, Black had settled on joining the mission wholeheartedly, especially since Petrov had doled out forged travel documents to his two hostages. If DarkNite was the villainous hacker the intelligence community the world over claimed he was, Black wanted to bring him in to ensure that any planned attacks were stopped.
Such a move necessitated remaining tethered to Petrov along with the only person who had a previous relationship with DarkNite, Sergei Kozlov. Black had endured much worse travel partners in the past, and the conversation was tolerable after Petrov had exhausted the subject of his ex-wife.
Once Petrov secured a rental car, they piled in and drove toward the Turkish border.
“What do you think of your president?” Petrov asked Black.
Black shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“You’re an American. You’re free to speak your mind. Tell me what you think. Do you like him? Do you like his policies? Do you think he’s a dirtbag?”
“The jury is still out on this subject since he’s still relatively new to the office,” Black said.
“Spoken like a Russian,” Petrov said. “So diplomatic, such a nonsense answer, too.”
“You want to tell me what you think of Putin?” Black asked.
“He’s a great guy,” Kozlov said from the back seat. “I love seeing bare-chested photos of him riding horses.”
Power Play (Titus Black Thriller series Book 7) Page 10
