Clean Slate

by Aleksandr Voinov

  “I’m amazed he’s as good as he is,” Chris said around a forkful of Caesar salad in one of the many street cafés in Monte Carlo. “He understands what we’re saying, draws conclusions. He’s not a vegetable.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” John folded his hands.

  “Empty. No recognition.”

  “He could still act. Unlikely, but what if?”

  Chris gave a calculating look that made John wince. “You insisted we save him. Don’t talk to me about his being a possible threat now.” He sipped his cooled white wine. “We’ll stick to the plan.”

  “Could be my guilt talking.” John shook his head, discarding that thought as ridiculous. In their job, feeling guilty about lying was preposterous. “Close friends, eh?”

  “Yes. Very close friends.” Chris washed down the rest of his salad with the last mouthful of wine and grinned at him. “He used to be a handsome bastard too. Wonder what he’ll look like when the bandages come off.”

  He looked like he’d been mugged and beaten black and blue. Andrei frowned at himself in the mirror, but even that hurt. The tightness in his face came from the swelling; there was plenty of discoloration around his eyes where blood had gathered, and his blond hair was cropped short. Blue-green eyes seemed bewildered, but he didn’t begrudge himself that. It was the face of a stranger. No recognition.

  Who are you? If you crashed a Maserati, what model?

  He found himself scrabbling for any little piece of information, which, drugged up as he still was, was torture. The doctors and nurses knew nothing. He had to wait for his two “close friends.” Whatever that meant. He sank back, feeling defeated and on the verge of panic. Or rather, watching another man on the verge of panic. Who was he? What had he done? Did he work? As what? Wouldn’t people miss him?

  He wanted to call and cry out for somebody, anybody, to help him, to bring those two back so he could ask questions, but in the end, he was too exhausted and sank back into the pillows, grateful when the nurse brought more painkillers that knocked him straight out.

  Andrei perked up when the nurse popped her head in and announced he had visitors. He sat up quickly and ran his hand through his hair. Chris and Johnny were his anchor in this vast sea of nothingness his mind had become, and it was very easy to believe they had been close friends prior to his accident. They seemed to be around his own age; late twenties, early thirties, he supposed. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask.

  “Hey, big guy, how’s it hanging?” Chris asked in that breezy, American way of his.

  “It’s hanging,” Andrei answered, smiling at the suggestive wink he received in return. He liked being in on the joke, though he had no fucking clue as to exactly what that joke was.

  “You look great,” Johnny said, his tone low and measured, a sharp yet comforting contrast to the American’s.

  “Do I?” Andrei asked, scanning each of their faces. “The pain is lessening, and the swelling seems to have gone down.”

  Johnny smiled and tentatively reached out to touch the side of his face. Andrei found himself leaning into the touch, gentle yet strong. He pulled back.

  “It’s all right,” Johnny assured him. “It’s fine. You’ll understand soon.”

  The uncertainty and fear of the unknown gripped Andrei as it did far too often. “Tell me more,” he asked. He looked to the men, drawn to Johnny’s soothing, slightly accented and oh-so-British voice, to Chris’s quiet intensity. “Tell me what brought us here.”

  Chris sat down on his bed, while Johnny pulled a chair up. Andrei got the feeling he was surrounded, shielded from both sides. A protective layer against a world that moved on, not caring whether he could relate to it or not.

  “Do you remember anything, or do we start right at the beginning?”

  “Just tell me.” Andrei pressed his lips together, unwilling to show his desperation even to friends.

  “We met a few months ago via Beautifulpeople.com. We chatted a bit, then worked out we’d be in the same place for vacation, and decided to hook up. Since then, we’ve been living together.”

  Andrei watched Chris’s face, unsettled by the thought what the words meant. Gay. Chris was his… lover? It would explain him sitting down on the bed. “And Johnny?”

  “Him too. We’re all together.” Chris smiled. “Johnny and I met each other first. We were meeting up to see if two of us would hit it off, but we actually had sparks flying between the three of us.”

  Not just gay, but insatiable too. Of all possible explanations, this seemed the strangest one. “I… don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s most important you heal up and get your life back.” Chris patted his shoulder, a touch like from a friend.

  Andrei found it comforting and unsettling at the same time. His lovers? What the hell? A few months. What about the rest of his life? “What… what do I do?”

  “You mean for a living? You’re idle rich.” Chris smiled. “You own some real estate that covers your expenses, but you leave that to a lawyer.”

  “Family?”

  “You never talked much about them, but they disapproved of your ‘lifestyle’,” Johnny added. “Sorry.”

  “So… I’m completely alone? No job, no family, no….” Andrei felt his heart race, like there should be something. Nobody was that alone, somebody had to know the rest of his story. “Nothing.” The despair came back up in a terrible, spiky wave of pain, like nausea, threatening to wash his control away. “Was I suicidal? Did I crash the car because of that?”

  “You were a bit down, recently,” Johnny said. “You had a shouting match with Chris about some detail.”

  Chris looked at Johnny, the glance fairly harsh, almost warning. “Yeah. I didn’t think much of it when it happened, but in the light of things….” He shrugged and lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  Andrei reached out to touch the other man’s hand. Strong fingers closed around his, and Andrei thought it was strange; his heart shouldn’t be pumping like this. Lovers. Two. God, what on earth had his life been like? Two men? “Can you… can you get me out of here? The hospital makes me insane. I want to… move, walk, I’m just withering here.”

  “Johnny has enough medical training to take care of you. Pays to be from a medical family, huh?” Chris pressed Andrei’s hand and stood. “Take it easy, tiger. No need to rush anything, we’ll just make sure you’re comfortable and good to go. Everything else will come back, okay?”

  “Yes.” Andrei cleared his throat, hating how his voice sounded so small. “Just get me out of here.”

  “No problem. I’ll talk to the doctor.” Chris sauntered off.

  Johnny glanced after him, then turned to face Andrei again. “You do look much better.”

  “I look like a beaten-up panda.” Andrei muttered. “My face….”

  “You’ll be fine. No worse than a facelift.” Johnny smiled and touched his hand, the touch lingering. “We’re in your corner, whatever you make of it.”

  “I don’t remember… lovers. I remember nothing. I don’t remember… you.”

  “Patience. Chris and I talked about this and if you don’t—I mean, if you don’t feel anything for us, we can still be friends.” Johnny shook his head. “We wouldn’t leave you alone like this.”

  That sounded so heartfelt and honest and raw that Andrei thought, hell, he might feel something for them. Or maybe at least Johnny. Or both. He had no idea.

  John paced the empty fourth-floor lounge area of the private hospital while the GORGON-affiliated doctor tucked a GPS chip into Voronin’s wrist cast and gave him a last check-up in his room. “We shouldn’t take him back there.”

  Chris raised his hands as if to defend himself from any condemnation. “Hey, this is all going according to your plan. You’re the one who told our supervisor this was the best way to feel the guy out and swing him around to our side if he has any relevant memories in that pretty head of his.”

  John stopped his pacing and looke
d at Chris. He felt his mouth dip into a frown and corrected that mistake. “As attractive as he may or may not be, he knew a lot about the Russian mob and the oligarchs… too much, apparently.” He shook his head and paced a bit more, then stopped before Chris. “I have a bad feeling about this.” He’d never been able to decide if he hated that shark-like stare. But he definitely hated the unspoken chorus of I told you so.

  Luckily, before Chris could taunt him with those words, the agency doctor appeared in the outer corridor and approached the lounge, Andrei in tow.

  Chapter 3

  The only part of his plan John didn’t regret thus far was driving to the lodge while Chris sat in the passenger seat, half-turned to talk to Andrei. While he usually did the talking in undercover situations, Chris was better as the potential lover due to his ungodly amount of expertise at picking up one-night stands—both male and female.

  It was working, too. Andrei’s posture was relaxing the further along the road they drove. Chris commented on the scenery and the reasons they’d supposedly booked this place for a month. Andrei glanced out the window, seemingly with no recognition of the area. If he was remembering anything, it would become apparent in his body language once they made the upcoming turn and the luxurious lodge came into view.

  “Almost there,” John said brightly. He glanced back as Andrei peered up between the front seats.

  “Look familiar?” Chris asked gently.

  Andrei narrowed his eyes as if struggling to remember. “Perhaps, but I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”

  “Don’t worry,” Chris said, reaching back to brush his hand against Andrei’s knee. “The memories will come back when they’re ready.” He paused a moment. “Before you know it, you’ll remember… everything.”

  John tried not to groan as he parked and cut the ignition. The way Chris could make even the most common word sound like sex on a stick was disgusting. Were it not for GORGON’s rigorous physical condition testing, he would have refused the assignment as Chris Gibson’s new partner once the man’s promiscuity became evident. How many communicable diseases had the man been exposed to?

  It was strange to return to the scene of the slaughter, but there was no trace of it. GORGON had repaired the front door and removed every bullet casing and blood spatter inside; the bodies too, of course, and a thorough tour of the lodge had ensured they hadn’t missed anything. There were few personal items (most of Andrei’s stuff was in storage); just enough to add credibility to the claim they’d lived here for a few weeks. They’d checked all of Andrei’s clothes and suits, his phone bills, the data on every computer, every piece of paperwork, but there was nothing of interest.

  GORGON was providing security to this place, too, just in case the killers came calling again.

  John helped Andrei sit down, because the man looked tired from the little expedition out of the hospital. Weakened, still dazed from the painkillers, and pale. John wondered for a long moment how he’d feel in Andrei’s situation and decided the man was holding up surprisingly well, all told. He certainly had a strong core and excellent mental resources. Good nerves: something every criminal needed if he was to walk suavely away from a crime. With Andrei’s associates, nerves of carbon steel were a definite asset.

  One of the perks of working for GORGON was how they stocked the lodge’s kitchen with fresh produce, assorted groceries, and fine wines and other beverages. The upright freezer was filled to the brim with frozen gourmet entrees that threatened to make them gain at least five pounds apiece.

  “Now that’s some home cooking,” Chris said, patting his flat abdomen. He stood, grabbed the wine bottle and his glass, and suggested they all go up into the main living area on the second level. “Music or a movie?” he asked, gesturing between the state-of-the-art sound and video systems.

  “Music, I think,” John said.

  “Andrei?”

  “Music would be nice.” He smiled and took a seat on the end section of the low rust-colored sofa.

  “Any particular genre?”

  John shook his head. Andrei did likewise.

  “Well then, let’s do it the scientific way.” Chris grinned at his companions and put his hand over his eyes, then turned and pretended to search for the shelf, all the while peeking through his fingers. He took a CD featuring soft rock instrumentals with a decided Russian influence.

  He turned around, uncovered his eyes, and showed the others the CD cover. “I have no idea what this sounds like, but what the hell.” He slid the CD into the system and kept the volume low, which, considering that this sounded much like Russian elevator music, was just as well.

  Andrei watched them both attentively, clearly listening to everything to check whether it brought up emotion or maybe even fragments of memory. The way he didn’t shatter under all this pressure was nothing short of admirable. But a man could think too much. Chris sat down next to him and placed his hand on the man’s knee again. No surprise in the other’s face, just calm acceptance of the touch, like he’d figured Chris had every right to touch him. Being lovers, and all that.

  “I was thinking to extend the lease, make sure you get healed up before we move on.”

  “Where did I crash the car?”

  “Not far away from here. We can take you there, if you want to. But it’s a bit of a walk downhill.”

  “Was I drunk? Drugged?”

  “You’d know better than to do that. You’re not the reckless type.” Chris let his hand trail up higher, felt the muscle underneath tense and Andrei pull in a deep breath. Arousal, caution, resistance? Damn, but he wanted to know what the man looked like during sex; there was a certain vulnerability to him right now, so at odds with what he knew about the man and his associates. “Don’t worry, it’ll all come back.”

  Andrei didn’t pluck his hand off. “I… don’t want to hurt you. Either of you. I… appreciate your company, even though I don’t remember you. You’ve been very good to me.”

  “Listen to him.” Chris grinned at John, then looked back at Andrei. “We’ll be so much better to you once you’re up for it.” He patted the knee, then let him go. The reaction had told him the Russian definitely needed to be seduced but wasn’t appalled, shocked, or disgusted. Amazing what a little suggestion could do to a man who didn’t know (or remember) better.

  “I’m just tired.” Andrei stood, moving carefully as if worried about his balance.

  “You’ve had a big day,” John said with a comforting smile before standing. “I put the pain meds the doctor gave you upstairs in the bedroom for you. I’ll show you where it is.”

  Andrei hesitated.

  “Dude, it’s okay,” Chris said. “There are two bedrooms. One with a huge bed and a second, smaller one. We set the smaller room up for you until, and if, you feel like joining us again in the other.”

  Andrei nodded.

  John smiled at Andrei. “You go first. I’ll stay behind just in case you feel unsteady on the stairs. There aren’t many, but why take a chance.”

  Chris turned off the stereo, then followed the others. While he was bringing up the rear, he took the time to focus on John Soong’s fine ass. This mission was set to become much more entertaining than it had begun.

  The open floor plan of the lower level continued upstairs with the bedrooms flowing into one another, separated by glass doors that slid back into the walls. Each bedroom connected to its own en suite; the master bedroom had the more spacious bathroom, complete with double shower and two tubs, one standard, the other a whirlpool hot tub.

  Chris showed Andrei where his clothing was, as well as toiletries and a waterproof covering to fasten over the short cast protecting his broken left wrist. “You may want to wait until tomorrow to shower or soak in the tub. You should let one of us know so we can be nearby in case you feel lightheaded or unsteady.”

  Andrei looked into the bureau drawers. A thick blue terry robe lay folded on the bureau top. “Have I nothing to sleep in?”

  Chris chuc
kled. “We’ve been sleeping naked, but you’ve got a couple pairs of silk boxers and the robe.”

  “Thank you.”

  John stepped forward and patted Andrei on then back. “I should have thought to get you something. I’ll run into town tomorrow and get you two pairs of pajamas. I did think to get this, though.” He switched on a tiny, low-wattage lamp atop the bureau. “You should keep this on while you sleep until you get your bearings. It doesn’t shine all the way to the bed, but it gives you enough light to get to the bathroom or the hall.”

  Andrei nodded, but said nothing beyond “Thank you.”

  Chris stepped forward and lightly kissed the Russian’s forehead. “Your antibiotics and pain meds are in the bathroom. Don’t forget to take them. Okay?”