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First Blood

Page 16

by Aleksandr Voinov


  other safe.

  “Always the same,” Chris commented when Nikita opened the

  door of his current hiding hole. “Down to the whiteboards and the

  mattress on the floor.” He set his bag down and stretched. “Can we

  share?”

  “Share?” Nikita paused.

  “The mattress.”

  Nikita cast him one of those smiles that appealed to every gay

  molecule in Chris's body. “We should upgrade that with a proper heavy

  iron frame.”

  “I like how you're thinking, my man.”

  While Chris unpacked a few things and put his shaving kit in the

  bathroom, Nikita erased the whiteboards and took out the netbook he'd

  secreted under a floorboard beneath the mattress. He brought up the

  most recent photos of the closed airport he could find and sketched the

  layout on the board.

  “This half of the grounds won't suit their purposes for anything,

  too close to the main access points and still traveled enough to draw

  unwanted attention.”

  Chris crouched down beside the computer. “Let me try

  something.” He paused. Then, giving in to blind trust, he brought up

  the GORGON database and logged in. At least he still had that for now.

  No such luck with Wudarczek's special area for this job, but fuck the

  little shit, he'd already saved the stuff that had interested him as a

  sniper and sent it to his e-mail. He logged out of GORGONnet and then

  into his e-mail. He'd gotten three of the five photos he was after when

  the screen froze and he was booted off.

  “Fuck you too, Steve-o,” he grumbled. He opened the high res

  surveillance pics and called Nikita over. “My guess is your people enter

  back here. That piece of fencing looks newer and artificially aged. My

  guess is it's rigged as a gate.”

  He brought up the next picture. “If we go on foot and come in

  back here, we can skirt the hangar and warehouse area and find a

  couple places to take clean shots.”

  “I haven't invited you in.”

  “Did I ask to be invited?” He gave Nikita a long look. “This trust

  gig works both ways, Nicky. I just fed you semi-classified intel that

  you apparently didn't have. That looks like an invitation to me.”

  Nikita paused again, regarding him. Shit, he looked human these

  days. Maybe good sex did that. No wonder he'd always been pissed off

  afterward. The fearless block of stone had emotions. “I'm not a liability.

  I'm an asset. I've done this shit for a long time now. You couldn't hire

  a better guy than me, and I'm totally free.”

  “What about GORGON?”

  “How do you… did you just look at my screen?”

  “No. I know it's some kind of outfit dealing in some kind of

  shadow war. And you're part of it. John and Andrei are part of it too. I

  don't want you burning bridges.”

  “I might get kicked out.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen, I can help you with this. You think I'll let you run in

  there to catch more bullets, you're fucking wrong.”

  “I see.”

  Chris bit his tongue for what seemed the hundredth time that day.

  He stood. “Am I in or am I in?”

  “In—provided the gangsters don't come up with a change of plan

  I feel is too risky for you.”

  “Oh, come on….” Chris turned away, took a deep breath. “Yeah,

  sure.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Of course you do.” He looked toward the small kitchen area.

  “You have any tea in this dump?”

  “Help yourself.”

  By the time Chris returned with the large mug, Nikita had put

  away the netbook, stripped, and was lying on the mattress, head resting

  upon his folded arms, his dick lying against his thigh looking like it

  wasn't sure if it had any life left or not.

  Chris stripped, kept his boxer briefs on mainly to see what the big

  guy would do. He stretched out beside Nikita, the tea within arm's

  reach. “So, honey, how was your day?”

  Nikita chuckled. “Interesting. Tiring.”

  Chris sipped the tea and offered some to Nikita. “Same here, with

  an added dose of what the fuck.” He set the cup aside and lay back,

  turning to face Nikita. Raised up on his right elbow, he touched

  Nikita's broad chest. “You really blew me away earlier.”

  “Same here.” Nikita studied his face, the gaze not cold at all.

  “You've done this shit before.”

  “Not with a man.” Nikita shrugged. “It's harder with a man. Or

  maybe just harder with you.”

  Chris managed, barely, not to preen. Or not much. Should he ask

  about Katya? No, not the way Nikita had shut down before. “You're

  serious? You've never sucked a man?”

  Nikita snorted. “You make it sound like a defect.”

  “Hey. You did well for a virgin.” He saw Nikita wasn't too happy

  about the compliment. “I mean, I wouldn't have been able to tell the

  difference. You did me like a pro, okay?”

  Nikita laughed. “Now I sound like a prostitute. Stop digging,

  Gibson.”

  He gave Nikita a good-natured punch in the arm and received a

  slightly harder one in return. It escalated to an all-out wrestling match

  that ended once the tea mug was overturned. Chris pulled off his

  undershorts to sop up the spot, and Nikita laughed loudly.

  “You engineered the entire thing because I was winning.”

  “You wish. I kicked your ass in London.”

  “You tried.”

  “I did.”

  “Yet I came out on top.” His gaze slid down to Chris's thigh.

  “Do it again.”

  “Cut you?”

  “The way you did. The exact same thing.”

  His jaw tensed. “If you want in on the mission, it's best I not.”

  Chris glared. “Why, afraid I'll get captured and your secret will

  be out?”

  “Don't be an ass.” Nikita snatched up the cup and put it in the

  sink. Threw it, more like, from the sound of it breaking.

  “Then why?”

  “It wasn't the wisest choice on my part. It could have gotten

  infected. We can't have you down or your abilities compromised at the

  last minute.”

  “Fair enough.” Chris sat cross-legged on the mattress.

  Nikita lay down on his stomach, traced the skin on Chris's inner

  thigh with care. “But after, we'll see. If you still want to.”

  “Wouldn't know why not.” Chris surveyed Nikita's backside, the

  curve of his ass, the broad back. “You have a fantastic ass.”

  Nikita glanced up, half tired, half wary. “I know what you're

  thinking.”

  “And?”

  “I haven't done that and don't plan to.”

  Chris's cock began to fill with blood, and he wondered if he

  could convince Nikita to get hard too. “It feels good. Felt good when

  you fucked me. Hey, you sure pressed my buttons, you know plenty

  about butt sex.”

  Nikita looked away, stifled a yawn. “I'll think about it.”

  At least it wasn't a refusal. “Fair enough.” Chris leaned down,

  planted a kiss on Ni
kita's shoulder.

  Nikita turned, pulled him down and into an embrace. “Of all the

  things I thought about you, none of this entered into it.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  HIS phone rang, running cheerfully through the beginning of The A-

  Team theme. Fuck. Chris scrambled to his feet and grabbed the phone

  just at the phrase “for a crime they didn't commit.” He noticed Nikita

  was turning to lie flat on his belly, taking his pillow to bolster his own

  head.

  “Yes? John?” He grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom

  so as not to disturb Nikita.

  “Meet me for breakfast?” John's voice was tentative. “There's a

  bakery….”

  “Balzac Coffee, Hardenbergstrasse.”

  “Okay.”

  “You coming alone?”

  “Yes, Andrei's with me… I mean, in discussing this. We're on

  the same page.”

  “Of course.”

  “Chris….”

  “No, I mean it makes sense. That's all I meant.”

  “Okay. Half an hour, Balzac Coffee, Hardenberstrasse.”

  “Gotcha. See you.” Chris switched the phone off and put it on

  silent. He stuck his head into the bedroom, but Nikita seemed asleep.

  He got dressed, didn't bother with the shave, and wrote “Meeting John,

  bringing back muffins” on the whiteboard right in the center of

  Tempelhof, but in red rather than green. He then snatched the keys

  from the table and headed out.

  EVER the über-punctual one, John was already waiting by the time

  Chris arrived. He got his flavored coffee and a half-dozen muffins

  boxed to go and sat across from his erstwhile partner.

  “You look good, Chris.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere, sweetheart.”

  John frowned. “I meant that you look much more settled than

  when you left—”

  “You mean when I was tossed out.”

  “Chris—”

  Chris raised his hand. “It's okay. I'm cool with it. So what do you

  want?”

  “Andrei remembers.”

  Chris sipped his coffee. “Remembers?”

  “Not in great detail or any specific encounters, but he remembers

  enough of the man he saw you with to have a bad vibe. The man is

  dangerous, Chris. Deadly.”

  Chris gestured to himself. “Hello. Trained special ops officer here.

  Don't let the pretty face and hot bod lull you into thinking I'm

  harmless.”

  John breathed one of his too-frequent-of-late weary sighs. “Stefan

  thinks—”

  “I can imagine what Stefan thinks and what he's told the Dragon

  Lady. Whatever he thinks he knows is bullshit.” Chris sipped his coffee.

  John crumbled the edge of his biscotti. “This was a mistake,” he

  said softly. He began to rise, and Chris grabbed his arm to stop him.

  “Look, I love you guys, I do, but let's face it, the whole off-duty

  partnership wasn't working.”

  John leaned in. “These things take time, a polyamorous

  relationship holds inherent difficulties, but it can work, Chris.”

  “Not for me.” Chris reached out and placed his hand atop John's.

  “As trite as it sounds, it's me, not you. You and Andrei click, you have

  from day one, but I don't fit in with that.”

  “But that Kazakov. He's no good for you. He's bad news.”

  “Don't diss the big guy. He may be a lot of things, but he's no

  mobster type.”

  John rolled his eyes. “Oh God, he's got you talking like him.” He

  raised his cup but set it down without drinking. “He's on the other side.”

  “Come off it, Johnny. So was Andrei, and yet you saw fit to bring

  him aboard. Don't go all black and white, right and wrong on me. Life

  is all about the shades of gray. And no matter what happens, Nikita

  made me see a new side of myself. It's kind of fucked up, but it works

  for me, okay?”

  John gave him the type of disappointed look a parent would give

  their kid who just came out during Thanksgiving dinner with the

  conservative extended family. “Fine. I just hope you know what you're

  doing.”

  Chris took a long drink of his coffee. “Is that it, then?”

  “Almost. I received a call from Geneva last night. One of my old

  contacts in Beijing appears to have a connection to the goings-on here

  and is in need of the type of favor only GORGON can do.”

  “And his price for that is to help this case of Stefan's?”

  “Basically. I'm flying into Hong Kong tomorrow for a meeting.

  Andrei will be acting as my Russian interpreter.”

  “To get you in with Shkadov?”

  “And also someone bigger, same general area of business

  dealings.”

  “Damn. Sounds like a good gig.” He wondered if heading to HQ

  and giving the Dragon Lady a bit of tongue like old times would get

  him in on it.

  John's slight groan pulled his attention away. “I hate that look in

  your eye.”

  “You're lying, but go on.”

  “I may have gotten you a slight reprieve to act as bodyguard.

  You're the best for that, we all know it.”

  “Nikita comes too.”

  “No way.”

  “Nikita comes as an acting goon, or I don't.”

  “I can't authorize that.”

  “But you know who can, and she adores you, Johnny. I'd go so

  far as to say she's your personal fag hag.”

  John sighed. “I'll try. That's all I can promise.”

  Chris stood. “You know my number.”

  John shook his head, clearly disapproving. “Be careful, Chris. All

  this can still blow over.”

  Chris touched John's shoulder and bent down to kiss the top of

  his head. But whatever tenderness he still felt for John was strangely

  fraternal these days. Seemed he was really over that thing he'd had with

  him and Andrei. “You take care, Johnny.” He grabbed his box of

  muffins and headed out, made sure he wasn't being followed, and

  returned to the flat.

  When he arrived, Nikita was still in bed, flat on his belly,

  checking messages on his phone. He glanced over his shoulder to look

  at Chris, a half-smile forming on his lips.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Chris set the muffins down, feeling

  terribly, terribly tender. God damn it. That Russian had really messed

  with his head. Nikita wasn't one that needed providing for. Or maybe

  he did. Not much, but sometimes. Everyone needed to be taken care of

  in some way at some point, right? He'd taken care of the big guy when

  he was hurt, and Nikita had taken care of him after that wild session

  they'd had.

  Listen to yourself, Skippy. You’re thinking downright limp-

  wristed, monogamous thoughts. Knock it off!

  Nikita's voice drew his attention.”What's the matter? What

  happened with your friend?”

  “We talked.” Chris pulled off his boots and sat on the mattress,

  the box of fresh muffins on his lap. “Something big may be going down.

  I'm trying to get them to include you.”

  “Connected to Shkadov?”

  “Yeah. You could be a
real asset.” Chris pulled the covers down

  to bare Nikita's muscular ass. “How did you learn about GORGON?”

  “I have my sources.” Nikita lifted himself up on his elbows.

  “Shit.”

  “What's up?”

  “I'm just about horny enough to try that. What you want.”

  Every drop of blood in Chris's body rushed toward his groin at

  the sight of Nikita's swelling cock, and yet his mind or some heretofore

  unused part of him kept him right where he was. “You mean you're

  willing to let me be on top?”

  Nikita grinned. “At least once.”

  “Well.” Chris remained as he was, part of him trying to fathom

  his unheard-of hesitation, the other part screaming for him to get it on.

  He set the muffin box on the floor and stroked his palm along Nikita's

  muscular thigh.

  He stretched out on his side, rubbed his hand across the Russian's

  tight abs and gazed softly into those hungry, pale eyes before leaning in

  for a kiss.

  Nikita pulled him on top and then rolled him over, pressing his

  naked dick into Chris's denim-clad thigh. “If you don't get those

  clothes off, I might change my mind.”

  “Oh, we wouldn't want that.” Chris smacked Nikita's tight ass

  and then squirmed away. He stripped, pulling a packet of lube from his

  pocket before letting the pants fall to the floor. He coated his erection

  while Nikita stood and moved toward him.

  They kissed again, lips crashing together, tongues battling for

  control, ending in a draw when Chris pulled back and shifted his stance

  to run his slick fingers down the crack of Nikita's ass.

  He nipped the Russian's shoulder, licked the base of his neck.

  “So many possibilities. Which one will make your first time at this the

  best?”

  “You're the supposed expert.”

  “I'm good at this.” Chris protested Nikita's irony but saw he'd

  just been ribbed. Maybe Nikita's way of dealing with a little

  anticipation. “On your back, legs in the air, or all fours, like you fucked

  me.”

  “Or riding you,” Nikita added, licking his lower lip in speculation.

  “That requires a little care.”

  “How difficult can that be?” Nikita scoffed. “Lie down.”

  “Bossy bastard,” Chris muttered, but he stretched out. Nikita

  straddled him and bent down to kiss him. “Right. Scoot up, let me

  prepare you.” He pulled Nikita closer and closer until he could suck on

 

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