“Fatale, as much as I adore the sound of your voice, I request that you remain silent.”
She raised her arms. “What about these?”
Sergei sighed and glared at her. “I will remove the cuffs; however, if you make a single sound, eye contact, hand gesture, or try to communicate in any way with anyone we come in contact with, I will keep you cuffed to the bed for the duration. Understood?”
She nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again when he raised his hand.
She remained quiet as they wound their way down the long drive. Even when he drove past the castle itself, she didn’t speak. When he pulled up to what had obviously been a caretaker’s cottage, she longed to ask about it, but didn’t.
“While you are not a prisoner, per se, you are also not free to come and go as you please. Fatale, meet Aleksei. He will ensure you stay put.”
Merrigan nodded, but didn’t make eye contact with the man Orlov introduced her to. She didn’t need to; she’d known him for years.
The two escorted her into the fire-lit cottage. The exterior reminded her of the two on Butler Ranch, which were also built of stone.
Inside, the same stone blended with dark wood beams on the ceiling and walls. The furniture was made from wood and leather, and various antler trophies were scattered on the walls. She wondered if this had been the gamekeeper’s cottage specifically.
Sergei cleared his throat and motioned for her to come closer. She didn’t care for his smirk or the glint in his eye. “Sadly, I am too tired to take you to my bed tonight, dorogoy. Perhaps tomorrow.”
She glared at him, also too tired to continue their caustic rapport or even attempt to listen to his conversation with her okhrana. Instead, she asked for the loo.
“Up there,” said Orlov, pointing to a closed door at the top of a staircase.
“Thanks,” she muttered, taking the slow climb to what she assumed would be her “cell.” When she opened the door, she chided herself for mentally complaining. The room was as warm and inviting as the main room downstairs had been. Another fireplace was lit, and the big bed was covered with Scottish woolen blankets. She appreciated the privacy of the en-suite bath in which sat a claw-foot tub. As welcoming as it appeared, all she really wanted to do was sleep.
She peered out the window, after using the lavatory, and saw that Aleksei was not her sole guard. She closed the curtain and climbed up onto the bed, crawling under the woolens without removing a stitch of her clothing.
—:—
Having a private plane made some things far easier, but not wearing the official badge of the CIA made things like getting through customs a lot more difficult.
“Thanks, Rivet,” Kade said, shaking the hand of the man who got them out of red-tape hell.
“Shiv is in place,” he responded, holding up his phone, indicating he’d received a message.
“Roger that.”
“Let’s put this one to bed quickly, gentlemen,” Rivet said before departing the plane that would soon be cleared for takeoff to Glasgow.
“By the way,” he said, sticking his head back inside, “Oruzhiye knows you’re on your way.”
“Who’s on their way?” asked Paps.
“Just Doc. He’s the only one Orlov cares about.”
Razor laughed. “Thanks.”
Kade shook his head. Razor should be thankful Oruzhiye didn’t give a shit about him or Paps. The man was as dangerous as they came, primarily because there was no way for them to know whom the man known as “the Gun” was currently working for or what their agenda might be.
—:—
Merrigan opened her eyes, not recognizing the room she was in. It certainly wasn’t the room she’d fallen to sleep in, unless she’d been dreaming. The last thing she remembered was arriving at a cottage on the grounds of Brodick Castle and going upstairs to use the loo. She remembered the room had a big bed, a lit fireplace, and a claw-foot tub in the adjoining bathroom.
The room she was in now was dark and dank. It had a single bed, one blanket, no fireplace, and certainly no en-suite bathroom. It didn’t even have any windows.
She felt groggy, her head hurt, and she was sick to her stomach. Every symptom she had was a side effect of being chloroformed.
When she heard a knock at the door, Merrigan laughed. As if she had any control over who came and went. She heard a key slide into the lock and the door creak open.
“I know you’re awake, Fatale,” Orlov said, pulling up a chair she hadn’t noticed and sitting at the side of the bed. “I’m sorry for the abrupt change of venue, but the good doctor arrived far sooner than expected.”
Merrigan put her arm over her eyes. “I thought I wasn’t a prisoner, and what the fuck, Oruzhiye, did you have to use chloroform? I would’ve gone along willingly.”
“My apologies. I asked Aleksei to arrange for you to be moved, and like the doctor, whoever he gave the job to was too hasty in completing the task.”
Her eyes filled with tears—another side effect of the chloroform—she never would’ve cried over the situation she was in, particularly showing that vulnerability to someone like Orlov.
Noticing, he stroked the side of her face with his finger. If she didn’t feel like her head was about to explode, she would’ve jerked away from him.
“Prosti, pozhaluysta,” he murmured.
“I don’t want your apologies, Sergei. Tell me what the hell you’re up to instead.”
He sighed. “Animus, my dear. Follow along.”
“What does Doc have to do with him?”
Orlov raised his eyebrows. “Think, Fatale.”
Another knock sounded on the door and Orlov stood. “Excuse me, moya lyubov’, my other appointment has arrived.”
—:—
Shiv had left Kade a trail that a six-year-old could follow. When he drove up to the gate of Brodick Castle, it opened automatically, and he proceeded past the castle itself, to a cottage where he’d been told Orlov was waiting.
“Welcome,” he said when Kade climbed out of the car. “You will not be needing your weapons today,” he added, expecting him to surrender his gun to one of the four goons surrounding him.
“Where is Fatale?” he asked, keeping his hand on his weapon and leaving no room for Orlov to misunderstand he was refusing to hand it over.
“In due time,” he answered, motioning for Kade to follow him into the cottage. “But know this, if you kill me, you and she will also be dead within seconds.”
The smirk on the man’s face was enough for Kade to consider blowing his head off.
“What do you want?” he asked when they sat near the lit fireplace.
Orlov motioned to one of his goons, who brought over a bottle of vodka and two glasses.
“No, thanks,” said Kade.
“Do not insult me,” he answered, handing Kade the shot glass he’d just poured. “To Fatale’s health,” he added, raising his own glass.
Kade threw the vodka back at the same time his host did, but did not pour the requisite second round. Instead, he glared at the man and waited.
“Animus,” Sergei said, reaching for the bottle.
“What about him?”
Sergei smirked. “I think you know, and your cat-and-mouse game disappoints me greatly. You’re getting lazy, just like Fatale. Perhaps it’s the lust.”
Again, Kade waited, not taking what Orlov was baiting him with.
“There is reason to believe the elusive agent is someone in your circle. I need what Animus has, you want what I have. Simple.”
“Your intel is flawed,” said Kade, picking up the bottle and pouring two more shots.
“Nyet.” He shook his head. “Of this I am certain.” Orlov again motioned to one of his minions, who soon brought out a charcuterie board.
“Why don’t you go after him yourself?”
“Because I do not share the same easy access you do.”
“Get to the point, Oruzhiye. Who is it and what do you want me
to do?”
“Before I leave, I want to see Merrigan,” Kade said later when Orlov escorted him to the door.
“Fatale is perfectly comfortable and happy to have this time to reconnect. I’m sure you understand what I’m saying.”
Kade was above letting Orlov’s insinuation affect him. The ploy was sophomoric at best. While they may have had some kind of dalliance in the past, he didn’t doubt Merrigan’s disinterest in Orlov was any less than his apathy to Lena.
What did affect him, however, was whom Sergei believed Animus to be. His theory was the same as Paps’, and to Kade, it remained ludicrous.
But why would Orlov waste his time by sending him on a wild goose chase? It didn’t make sense.
—:—
“Back so soon,” Merrigan said when Orlov returned and stood by her bedside.
“Let’s go,” he said, motioning for her to get up.
“Where now?”
Orlov sighed and grabbed her arm. “You’ll see.”
He led her through a tunnel, as dark and dank as the room she’d been kept in. It obviously connected the castle itself with its outbuildings. There were several doors, which she guessed were to offshoots leading to other buildings on the grounds. Given she knew the approximate distance between the castle and the cottage they’d initially taken her to, it was easy to deduce that’s where he was headed.
By the set of his mouth, she could tell Sergei was angry. Many wouldn’t have picked up on the tell, but she’d spent hours—unguarded hours—studying him. She knew him as well as he knew her.
What she hadn’t expected was to end up in a garage when they climbed the stairs she’d assumed led to the cottage.
“How was your meeting?” she asked, eliciting the slightest of smiles.
“You know well your importance to the good doctor.” He stopped walking and turned her to face him. “I once felt the same way he does.”
The smile left his face as quickly as it had come. She’d hurt him, all those years ago, but worse, she’d betrayed him. When she asked if he was there to kill her when he first appeared at the bistro in Glasgow, it was because she’d been expecting him to for years.
“You know that too, don’t you, Fatale? That I have feelings for you is the only reason you’re still alive.”
“You never cared about me.”
His grasp on her arm tightened as he pulled her close enough that she could feel his breath. “I loved you,” he seethed. “I would’ve given anything for you, but instead of asking, you took.”
“You were going to kill me,” she whispered. “I heard you.”
He let go of her arm and took a step back. “Two things you should’ve learned from your mistake. First, you know better than to believe everything you hear. Second, even now, your instincts continue to scream of your mistake. You should’ve trusted them.”
“I did, Sergei. That’s why I left.”
“You didn’t leave. You absconded with photographs that were worth a great deal of money.” He pushed her toward the back passenger door of an SUV.
“I had no choice. The Maskhodovs—”
“Get in,” he demanded, not letting her finish her sentence. Once she had, he followed and sat next to her while Aleksei drove and another man sat in the front passenger seat.
“Do you really believe I would’ve let you live if I did not love you?”
Merrigan looked away when he rested his hand on hers.
“I love you as much now as I did then,” he said, quietly enough that she wasn’t certain she’d heard him right.
—:—
Kade arrived at their designated meeting place before Paps and Razor did, which gave him time to think through his encounter with Orlov, and also about Paps’ theory.
Both believed Leech was Animus, and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
Leech had initially gone to Russia to find and kill the man who had raped his daughter and betrayed their country. It made sense that if he’d found Calder’s files, he would’ve kept them as his own insurance policy. Given he was captured by the last organization he would’ve wanted to have them, he never would’ve given away where they were hidden.
But why hadn’t he come clean about it since they’d returned to the States? Once Calder’s files were in the hands of United Russia, they could all move on with their lives.
“Orlov’s theory matches up with mine, doesn’t it?” Paps asked when he and Razor arrived.
“He believes Leech is Animus, yes.”
“Did you ask him why?”
Kade shook his head. “I didn’t ask you either.” In fact, he’d dismissed it out of hand so quickly, he hadn’t considered doing so.
“There’s been traffic between his IP and United Russia,” said Paps.
“Do you think he’s trying to negotiate something with them?” Razor asked.
“But what?” asked Kade.
“If he’s holding out for something they’re not willing to give, Barbie being run off the road could certainly be seen as UR firing a shot across the bow.”
“We spent days together in the hospital. I would’ve known. He wouldn’t have been able to hide it from me if that’s what he thought.”
Paps shrugged.
“What?” Kade asked.
“What about Orlov taking Fatale?”
Kade grasped the back of his neck. “You think Leech arranged that as well?” He thought it over for a minute and disagreed. “Orlov said that he needed whatever Animus had.”
“Right,” said Paps. “That would leave the circle open, then.”
“My guess is he’s working for the SBU.” The successor of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic’s Branch of the Soviet KGB was the only organization he could think of that would need whatever Calder had on UR.
Razor stood and paced the length of the room.
“Talk, Sharp,” demanded Kade.
“What you’re saying is that Leech found Calder’s files, and hid them somewhere else, possibly to use as an insurance policy for himself. He was captured, you came after him, and got captured too. Makes sense he wouldn’t tell the Maskhodavs where the files were, knowing they’d kill you both once he had. Honestly, that the Russian bad guys held on to the two of you for as long as they did is the most telling proof that Leech is Animus. Otherwise, they would’ve cut their losses.”
“Probably would’ve taken out Barbie and Skipper too, just for the fun of it,” added Paps.
“Fatale and UR rescued you, and you made a deal with them to deliver Calder.”
Kade nodded. “With you so far.”
“Now, we think Leech is making another deal with them, different than the one you made.”
Paps nodded.
“You handed over Calder’s body to UR, but we know they’re on the ground, looking for his files, just like we are. This is where you lose me,” said Razor.
“What do you mean?” Kade asked.
“Leech isn’t a greedy man. Nor is he any kind of traitor. He wouldn’t be making side deals. I just don’t buy it.”
“Who else would have skin in the game and also have access to Leech’s office?”
Paps shook his head. “Anyone with a paper clip. Why Burns hasn’t been asked to secure that location is beyond me.”
“Until now, we haven’t had any reason to,” Kade answered.
“The question you should both be asking yourselves is the one I already asked,” said Razor. “Who else has skin in the game?”
—:—
“I apologize, but this is necessary,” Orlov said before placing the blindfold over Merrigan’s eyes. She should’ve expected it when he also handcuffed her. “Remember to thank me,” he added.
She’d ask for what, but knew she’d find out soon enough.
18
“How’ve you been?” asked Merrigan’s brother when Orlov left them alone in what she guessed was a safe house.
“I wouldn’t begin to know how to answer that. How are
you, Mac?”
When he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, she was almost too stunned to return the affection. She couldn’t remember the big, bad MacGregor Shaw ever hugging her before, even at either of their parents’ funerals.
“Who’s the Russian?” he asked, stepping back.
“If you don’t already know, I’ll spare you.”
“If I already knew, I wouldn’t have asked.”
This, she was familiar with. Even as adults they hadn’t been able to hold a conversation without exchanging barbs.
“His name is Sergei Orlov. Code name Oruzhiye, which translates directly to ‘the Gun.’”
“I see.”
“Like I said, you didn’t want to know. By the way, how did he get you here?”
“He asked if I wanted to see my sister.”
“And you just came along?”
He nodded.
“It didn’t occur to you that you’d be walking into a dangerous situation?”
“No, it didn’t.”
“It should’ve.”
“Our lives and our ways of looking at the world are very different.”
“You understand now, though.”
Mac stood and walked over to the room’s window. He drew the curtain back, looked outside, and then shook his head and sat back down. “What’s this about?”
“I’m a bargaining chip, and unfortunately you are now too.”
“Not just me. Mary Pat and the kids are here too.”
Merrigan felt as though she was going to be sick. Orlov had found her weakest spot and would use her brother and his family to ensure she did everything he told her to.
“Do you want to see them? I guess I should say, meet them?”
“Of course I do, Mac.”
“By the way, who’s Doc?” he asked.
“What?”
“I asked who Doc is?”
“Why?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Because the Russian told me to ask.”
The Return (Butler Ranch Book 6) Page 16
