Shadow Assassin

by Elle James

  Anatoly’s face turned red, and he swayed on his feet. “How dare you accuse me of producing ransomware and blackmailing nations. We export energy. We don’t need to hold nations hostage.” As quickly as his face turned red, it blanched white, and he fell back into his seat.

  A security guard rushed forward and helped Anatoly to lie on the ground. He used his radio to call for help and, within seconds, the door opened and a stretcher was wheeled in. The medics lifted Anatoly onto it and wheeled him out. Some of the attendees stood, others remained seated.

  Sergei Baranovsky held up his hand. “There’s no need to disband this meeting. I’m here as backup to Anatoly Petrov. We can continue this discussion.”

  The moderator took control and stated that since it was near lunchtime they should adjourn until after the meal when they could continue the discussion.

  The German rose from his seat so fast that his chair fell backward, slamming against the floor. His face was a ruddy red, his jaw set in a tight line. He muttered a curse in German and stormed out of the room. Others left frowning furiously.

  Alex could hear them talking angrily amongst themselves. They were furious with Anatoly and the Russians for holding back necessary antivirus software that would keep hackers from employing their ransom software and effectively shutting down the delivery of natural gas and other energy resources to the nations that needed it to keep warm.

  The other Russian interpreter stopped beside her as Alex gathered her things. “Quite the drama, don’t you think?” she asked.

  Alex kept a straight face. As an interpreter she refused to show emotion or take sides. “It is an interesting discussion,” she said, trying to keep her comment neutral.

  The older woman held out her hand. “I’m Natalya Zotin, the interpreter for the Russian delegates.”

  “Alexa Sokolov.” Alex shook the woman’s cool, slender hand.

  “Are you interpreting during lunch?” Natalya asked.

  Alex shook her head. “I’m only required at the summit meetings.”

  “Why don’t you sit with me?” Natalya asked. “We can compare notes on what it’s like to be an interpreter.”

  With no real excuse on the tip of her tongue, Alex nodded. “That would be nice.” They followed the crowd into the banquet hall where tables were laid out beautifully with charger plates, fine china, and seven pieces of silverware at each place setting.

  Natalya led her to a table where the Saudi energy representative sat with Hikosaburo Kono, the Japanese delegate. The other interpreter’s choice immediately put Alex out of her comfort zone. She spoke no Japanese and no Middle Eastern dialects. Fortunately, Richard Weddington, the UK representative took the seat beside hers.

  Natalya leaned forward and addressed the UK delegate. “Richard, it’s good to see you again.”

  He nodded. “And you too, Natalya.”

  Their use of first names indicated a close familiarity with each other, and Natalya turned to Alex. “Richard, have you met Ms. Sokolov?”

  He shook his head and held out his hand. “I have not had the pleasure.”

  Alex took his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Weddington.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Ms. Sokolov. You’re interpreting for Mr. Hans Sutter, the German Minister of Energy?”

  She nodded.

  Weddington’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He appeared quite angry leaving the summit conference room.”

  She gave a tight smile rather than a response.

  Another interpreter sat between Richard and the Saudi. The Saudi spoke to the interpreter, and the interpreter turned to Richard Weddington and introduced the Saudi. A conversation ensued between the UK representative and the Saudi representative, thankfully leaving Alex out of the conversation.

  “So, Ms. Sokolov, or may I call you Alex?” Natalya asked.

  “Alexa, and you can call me Alexa.”

  “I detect an American accent. Where did you learn to speak Russian and German so well?”

  “In school,” she said. It was her canned answer for people she didn’t want to know her background. Her parents’ secrets were her secrets.

  “And where might that school be? I’d like to recommend it to others who might pursue careers in interpretation.”

  “Sorry, but the school is no longer in business.” Another lie she’d grown used to using.

  “Such a shame, especially when they did such a good job.”

  “What about you, Ms. Zotin?”

  “I grew up in Moscow, and my parents moved me around quite a bit when I was young. We spent time in Germany, the United Kingdom, Italy, and even in Saudi Arabia.” She smiled and nodded at the Saudi delegate.

  He nodded in return.

  “I became quite adept at picking up different languages and have made friends all over the world,” Natalya said with a smile.

  “How many languages are you fluent in?” Alex asked.

  “Eight, and I’m able to adequately communicate in another six.”

  “That’s amazing,” Alex said.

  Thankfully, the meal was served, and Alex wasn’t required to talk while they ate. Alex picked at her food, pushed it around on her plate and finally set her fork aside.

  “Is the meal not to your taste?” Natalya asked.

  Alex gave a tight smile. “No, it’s quite good. I’m just not all that hungry, and I need to get back to my room for a few minutes before the afternoon session begins.”

  “I need to go to my room as well. I’ll walk with you.”

  That was not how Alex saw that happening. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Daniel making his way to the banquet hall doors. He glanced her way and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

  Natalya walked with Alex all the way to the elevator.

  Daniel hung back, letting them enter the elevator without him. Alex thought to punch the seventh floor. Instead, she entered three, the real number that she’d been assigned. As the elevator rose, she pulled her keycard from her wallet.

  “Oh,” Natalya said, “we’re on the same floor.”

  Alex swallowed a groan as the door opened.

  Natalya waited for Alex to emerge and didn’t make a move until Alex turned in the direction of her room. They walked side by side. “Have you always been an interpreter?” Natalya asked.

  “For the most part,” she said. “You?”

  “Not always. I’ve dabbled in business, but the corporate world was not for me. I’m happy doing what I do. I have more control over the work I take on.”

  Alex stopped in front of her door. “It was nice talking to you. I have a few things I need to do before I go back to the summit.”

  “Me, too. I’ll see you there.”

  Alex waited for Natalya to move past her. When the woman didn’t, she waved her keycard over the door lock. She pushed the door in just enough to get through it, and then turned and closed the door between her and Natalya.

  The broken window was a glaring reminder of the evening before. Her pulse picked up. She stared around the room, half-expecting the man in black with the mask to show up again. She checked the room to make sure there was nobody else inside, and then went back to the door and looked through the peephole.

  Apparently, Natalya had moved away from the door. She waited another three minutes before she pushed the door open and peered out into the hallway. It was empty.

  Alex left the room and headed for the closest stairwell. As she pushed through the door, she looked back over her shoulder. The floor was still empty. She hurried through, let the door close behind her and then climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. When she opened the door to the stairwell, she heard another door clatter below. Alex muttered a curse beneath her breath. Hopefully, it wasn’t Natalya following her. She walked quickly to Daniel’s door and knocked three times softly. The door opened immediately, and she dove in.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “Is somebody following you?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said.<
br />
  He leaned into the peephole, stared for a moment and then straightened. “Did you see who it was?”

  “No,” Alex said, “but I had an interesting lunch with your girlfriend.”

  “What girlfriend? Oh, you mean Natalya.”

  “Yes, she invited me to sit with her, and then grilled me.”

  His lips twitched. “Did she find out any more than I have found out about you?”

  “She didn’t get much further.”

  “She’s an interesting woman,” Daniel said.

  “She is,” Alex agreed. And kind of creepy, she thought.

  “Was she following you?”

  “I don’t know…maybe. I told her I was going up to my room after lunch to do a few things before I went back to the summit. She said she also had to go back to her room. And then she got into the elevator with me. I punched the button for the third floor, and she said ‘oh, we’re on the same floor.’” Alex grimaced. “When I got out and went to my room, she followed me. It wasn’t until I went inside my room and closed the door that I finally got rid of her. I waited a few minutes, then left the room and came up here. At the fifth floor stairwell door, I thought I heard somebody open a door below me. I could just be imagining things.” But her gut told her she wasn’t.

  Daniel frowned. “Why would Natalya follow you?”

  “Good question,” Alex said.

  “How did it go in the summit meeting?”

  Alex filled him in on the discussion between the attendees and how Petrov and the German left the room.

  Daniel shook his head. “A much more interesting morning than I had.”

  “Did you have a chance to look over the video again?” Alex asked.

  “I did.” Then he shook his head. “I didn’t find out anything different.”

  “Did you learn anything else about the attendees?”

  “I did some web surfing, but nothing seemed to indicate a motive for murder.”

  “Well, I guess I better get back to the summit. Are you still okay with me leaving my things here?”

  Daniel nodded. “And I’m still okay with you staying here again tonight.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Can we discuss it later after the summit meetings and dinner?”

  He nodded. “The offer remains open. I won’t withdraw it, unless you turn out to be a real assassin.”

  She gave him a stiff smile. “I take it you’re a man who likes to take risks?”

  “Calculated risks,” he said.

  “I guess we’ll see each other at dinner.”

  “Before you go,” Daniel said, “let me check the corridor.” He went to the door, glanced through the peephole then opened the door just a little so that he could look out. Finally, he held the door wide. “All clear.”

  Alex left the room and walked to the opposite end of the hallway. She descended the stairwell all the way to the first floor where the summit meetings were being held. The short visit with Daniel had managed to calm her. Somehow, she knew if she got in a pinch, he would help her out of it. She didn’t know much else about him, but her instincts told her he was a good guy even if he wasn’t telling her the whole truth about himself. What male escort was all that concerned about identifying potential assassins?

  Chapter 7

  As soon as Alex left his room, Striker went after her to make sure she made it back to the summit meetings safely.

  She took the elevator down.

  Striker took the stairs, with the intention of running all the way down the five flights of steps. When he reached the second floor, the stairwell door opened, and he almost ran into Alex as she pushed through.

  She stopped, her eyes widening until she realized it was him. Her lips curved into a wide smile.

  Striker’s heart warmed. “You should smile more often.”

  Her smile faded. “You have to have something to smile about.”

  A grin spread across his face. “I guess that means seeing me made you smile.”

  Her lips twisted. “Seeing someone on the stairwell, who isn’t the man in the black ski mask, is much more pleasing than running into him again.”

  “I’m still taking it as a compliment,” he said.

  Her brow wrinkled. “Are you headed for the summit meetings?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “I was making sure you got there. I take it getting off on the second floor was another of your diversionary tactics.”

  She nodded.

  He tipped his head toward the stairs. “I’ll follow you down, but I won’t step out with you.”

  She gave him a brief smile. “Thanks.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you being nice to me?”

  Striker chuckled. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know.” Charley had told him to keep an eye on her, but he didn’t have to go to all the effort of letting her stay with him and share his bed. Something about her made him do things he’d never done before. “Maybe it’s just that I like you.”

  Her frown deepened. “Why?”

  He gripped her arms in a gentle hold. “You intrigue me, and I admire a woman who can look out for herself.”

  Alex cocked an eyebrow. “Then why are you following me around to make sure I get to the meetings all right?”

  Striker grinned. “It’s in my nature to protect.” He bent and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Go, or you’ll be late.”

  She blinked up at him, her eyes wide. Then she turned, pushed through the door and bolted. It was almost as if she were running from him.

  The door closed between them before Striker realized why she’d hurried away.

  He’d kissed her.

  What had he been thinking?

  That was just it…he hadn’t been thinking. Kissing her had felt as natural as breathing.

  He waited until she was almost all the way across the grand lobby before he exited the stairwell.

  The Energy Summit attendees were moving toward the conference room, some hurrying, others talking with their peers as they moved in the general direction.

  “What does a male escort do with his time when he’s not escorting?” a familiar voice said to him.

  He turned to find Natalya, dressed in a calf-length red dress and black high heels. Her makeup was flawless, and her auburn hair was pulled up in a messy bun on the crown of her head. For a woman her age, she was stunning, confident and seemed to know just about everyone at the event.

  “I find that people-watching entertains me,” he said.

  Natalya fell in step with him, slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow. “Observing people is a good way to learn things about them that they don’t necessarily want you to know.”

  Striker glanced down at the woman. “Like?”

  “People are creatures of habit. You might find that they always have coffee at exactly seven o’clock in the morning. They might run the same route every morning, if they’re into exercise. Some men like to use events like this to leave their wives behind and spend time with their girlfriends.”

  “Interesting,” Striker commented. “And you’ve been to enough of these kinds of conferences to observe all that?”

  She nodded. “Knowing the players in any event gives you an advantage.”

  “How does that help you as an interpreter?” he asked, his gaze meeting hers and holding.

  Her lips curled upward on one corner. “Let’s just say…knowledge is power.” She gave him a broad smile, released his arm and took a step away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

  He dipped his head and watched as she walked away with a firm, determined gait.

  The woman was an enigma. Most interpreters faded into the background.

  Not Natalya. She stood out like a cape in a bullfighter’s arena. It was almost like she owned the bull, or bulls, in this case.

  Striker wondered what other activities she participated in besides interpreting. If she was as observant as she seemed, she could be blackmailing diplomats and leaders from a variety of d
ifferent countries.

  She was one to watch.

  “Striker?” Charley’s voice sounded in his ear.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you some place where you can talk?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am,” he said and headed for the elevator. “Let me get to my room where I can speak freely.”

  “Good. I have some information about Ms. Sokolov that you might find interesting.”

  Striker’s pulse kicked up. “Give me a couple minutes.”

  “I’ll stand by.”

  He entered the elevator and, using Alex’s method, punched the button for the fourth floor. Once the elevator opened, he headed for the stairs and climbed to his floor. When he was safely in his room, he closed the door and engaged the lock. “Okay. I’m in my room. Shoot.”

  “Boot your laptop,” she ordered.

  He crossed to the desk, opened the laptop and waited for the screen to come up. Moments later, an image of a family appeared in front of him. A man, a woman and a little girl with raven-black hair.

  He immediately knew the girl was Alex. “Alex’s family,” he said softly.

  “That’s right,” Charley said. “They went by the names Mischa and Pavel Federov and their daughter Anya.”

  “Not Alex Sokolov?”

  “Not at the time that photo was taken.” Charley paused. “Their real names were Inna and Petyr Sokolov. Their daughter Alexa probably never really lived with that name. She was very young when they moved to Russia and became the Federovs. You see, Inna and Petyr were CIA sleeper agents embedded in Moscow, working for members of the Russian government and passing secrets to their handlers in the CIA.”

  His breath held. “Did Alex know what they did?”

  “That, I don’t know,” Charley said. “She lived with her parents until she was in her mid-twenties when Inna and Petyr were killed in a housefire. At least, that was how it was reported. The press assumed the entire family perished in the fire, including the couple’s daughter. The fire was so hot, there wasn’t much left of their remains.”

  “Alex escaped.” Striker could imagine the horror she’d witnessed.

  “And the Russians assumed she’d died along with Mischa and Pavel.”