Fyodor & Sons Woodworking and Restoration Services
Considering Sergei lived in a baroque-era mansion containing extensive woodwork that probably needed constant attention, it was as good a cover as any. Kat stuffed her hair up into the cap that came with the coveralls and then shot him a grin.
His heart lurched. Fuck.
She wasn’t going to fool anyone looking like that. She wasn’t a son—unless she was an effeminate one. Okay, so Fyodor had a gay son. Or maybe a transgender one making his way from female to male. Or vice versa.
Whatever.
He turned his attention to the canvas bags they’d take into the mansion with them. They had false bottoms that were stuffed full of explosive charges and ammunition. On top were woodworking implements.
If he and Kat made it past security with this stuff, they’d be set. And if they didn’t—well, they’d face that moment when the time came.
He stopped and frowned. He didn’t want her to go, but there was no arguing with her about it. He’d tried. He thought about restraining her and leaving her here, but the truth was that he needed her if he wanted a prayer’s chance of making it inside Turov’s house. He’d called her his secret weapon. It wasn’t a lie. She knew Turov’s routine, knew how he did things. A man like Turov was too arrogant to think those little details would matter so long as he had state-of-the-art security.
But security could be thwarted. Human habits were much harder to change. Pray to God Turov remained a creature of habit.
Thanks to Yuri, they knew that Sergei had an ongoing remodeling project in his mansion. Security was tight, but there were workers coming and going. That was their opportunity.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “Let’s go.”
He thought about it for half a second before placing a hand on her hip and tugging her in close. She lifted her face and he kissed her swiftly. Desire throbbed to life in his groin. He wasn’t even surprised by it anymore.
“For luck,” he said when he let her go.
Her smile pierced his heart. “Then we’re sure to win.”
They climbed in the van and took off for the ritzy section of Moscow where Turov had his home. Mendez’s phone buzzed. It was Ghost.
“We’re airborne,” Ghost said. “Be about two hours, though the pilot’s putting the hammer down and we’re trying for an earlier ETA.”
“Copy,” Mendez said. “We’re on our way to Turov’s now. It’s the only window we’ll get.”
“Sir—Viper. Good luck.”
“Thanks. If I’m not in touch in three hours, assume the worst. But find Delta. Get them out if you can.”
“That’s our plan. Kid’s narrowing down the sectors and searching for any GPS transmissions. It’s possible Delta managed to send out a signal somehow, so we’re looking for anomalies. Any word from Black?”
He knew Ghost was worried about Black’s mission. “Nothing yet. Maybe he’ll make an appearance. We could use him.”
“I’m not sure he’ll be much help.”
Mendez couldn’t help but laugh. No matter how many times Ian did them a favor, his guys didn’t trust the man. Helluva cover Black had built over the years. “Ian does what he has to do. But he’ll come through when it counts.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am. See you on the flip side, Ghost. Take care of HOT for me if it goes wrong, okay?”
“I will. But it won’t be necessary. You can take care of them yourself.”
His chest was tight. “Roger that.”
He pocketed the phone. It wasn’t quite six a.m. yet. Traffic was heavy into the city, and some of the streets were blocked for security reasons having to do with DeWitt’s visit. He would arrive later today, and the roads would be ten times worse. Yet another reason going now was the better option. If HOT had arrived yesterday as planned, they’d have infiltrated Turov’s home last night when it was dark and taken the bastard hostage until they got what they wanted out of him.
That wasn’t the hand he’d been dealt, however. This was the hand. He had to infiltrate Sergei Turov’s home with only the woman he’d once loved for backup. The woman who still tied him up in knots and made his body ache in ways he’d almost forgotten. There was something so right about being buried inside her. In spite of the past, in spite of the pain and heartache, his physical need for her was epic.
But he could get over that. He’d spent years regulating his body’s needs. Being careful who he got involved with for the sake of the job. He didn’t fuck around because he couldn’t.
It would take time, but he’d get there again. Kat was a physical need, nothing more. Still, the idea of something happening to her today twisted his gut and sent a tingle of dread tiptoeing down his spine.
They reached Turov’s mansion and drove around to the service entrance. There was a gate and two guards who stood with AK-47s, checking IDs and making people open car doors, trunks, and engine compartments. Another man with a sidearm rolled a mirror under the cars to look for bombs.
Mendez flipped on the signal in order to turn into the line of traffic waiting to enter. “You ready for this?”
“No, but what choice do I have?”
It wasn’t the answer he’d expected. “You always have a choice, solnishko.”
Her smile wavered. “No, not always. Where you go, I go. That was the choice.”
He wanted to growl. “I told you not to come with me.”
“And let you get your ass shot within ten minutes of entering the compound? Hell no.”
Strangely, he wanted to laugh. “I’m better than that, honey. I may get shot, but it’ll take them a while. They have to find me first.”
She rolled her eyes. “You special operators. So certain you’re invincible.”
He knew she was teasing him out of fear. Not fear for herself necessarily, but fear for him. “I’m invincible between the hours of six a.m. and noon. Fortunately, we’re doing this at the right time of day for me.”
She laughed. They rolled up to the gate then and he handed their fake work IDs to the guard. The man gave them a cursory, almost bored glance. Then he waved them through. They had to stop for the inspection, but it didn’t take long for the guards to check the undercarriage and peer into the van’s interior and under the hood. Another bored-looking guard waved them on, and they climbed back inside and started toward the parking lot located near the rear entrance.
“I think Sergei needs new guards,” Kat said, frowning. “They didn’t seem very concerned about anything.”
“Almost too easy,” Mendez said, echoing her frown as he glanced in the rearview. But the guards weren’t watching them at all. They’d moved on to the next car in line.
Kat turned around to look behind them. After a few moments she faced front and sighed. “Maybe luck is on our side today. Everyone’s busy with the summit in town and the restoration work on the house. People are distracted.”
“Could be.” But he still didn’t like it. He didn’t think she did either.
A stream of workmen came and went through the rear entrance like a trail of ants. Mendez backed the van into a slot and they got out and grabbed the canvas bags. He pulled his cap low and surveyed the area. There were armed guards on the perimeter, but their attention wasn’t focused on any particular area. A couple of them had dogs, big German shepherds that watched their surroundings with far more interest than the men did.
He fell in beside Kat and they headed for the entrance. There was another checkpoint just inside, like she’d said there would be, but beyond a quick glance at IDs, they were waved through. Mendez had the layout of the house memorized from the map Yuri had provided. So did Kat.
She waved him toward a corridor that he knew went to the camera control room. She removed her cap and shook out her hair. Then she slid the zipper of the coveralls down until she’d exposed more cleavage than he liked.
“What the hell are you doing?” he growled.
“Shh. I
’m working.” She waved at him to stand back as she knocked on the door. He slipped around a corner and kept his eye on the hallway in either direction.
A man opened the door a few seconds later. His eyes bugged out as he took in Kat’s sexy form.
“Hey there, baby,” she said. “I think I’m lost. Can you show me how to get to the cherub room?”
“Uh, the what room?”
“You know…” Her fingers tiptoed up his chest. “The room with those little wooden angels carved into the walls. My boss will kill me if I don’t get started on the restoration work.”
He cleared his throat and looked behind him. “I can’t leave here, miss. It’s just me—”
He didn’t get anything else out as Kat landed a sharp blow to the side of his head. He dropped like a stone. Mendez went to help her drag the body into the control room. They zip-tied the man to a chair and slapped duct tape over his mouth. Then they duct-taped him to the chair and the chair to the wall using quick movements. When he came to, he wouldn’t be able to raise the alarm.
Kat hurried over to the display screens. There were cameras in practically every room of the house. “I wish we had time to watch,” she grumbled. “See what’s going on.”
“We don’t. Where’s Sergei?”
Her head jerked as she scanned the screens from left to right. Then she pointed to a hallway that looked like all the other hallways to him. “His room is there.”
“How do you know?”
She arched an eyebrow. “It’s the only one without a camera. So no one can spy on him while he’s… entertaining.”
Yeah, that would be kind of weird to know your security personnel could watch you fucking your dates. “Good catch.”
“Let’s go. He’ll be waking soon.” She flipped a few switches and the cameras shut down.
They stuck to the less trafficked areas of the house, ducking into a storage room to shed the coveralls and arm themselves. They worked fast, donning gear and stashing ammo and weapons into various pockets on their vests.
When they were ready, they slung their AK-47s over their bodies and drew pistols. He started to give the go order, but he was caught by the blue of her eyes. She was so much smaller than he was, slender and feminine, and the urge to protect her surfaced like a missile shot from a submarine. But those eyes told a different story. They were tough and hard, and they’d seen a lot of pain and a lot of combat. He didn’t want her here, but not because she wasn’t competent.
He suddenly wanted to say a million things to her. The feelings boiling inside him were at pressure cooker levels. And they were about to jump into a firestorm. Not a good time to say anything though.
“Go time,” he said softly.
She racked the slide on her Glock. “Let’s get that motherfucker.”
Chapter 38
The atmosphere on the plane was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Gina kept her people separate from HOT. They were up front while HOT sat toward the back. There was a private conference room on the plane, and several of the guys had gathered in there. Kid had his computer set up and was communicating with Hacker. They were trying to find Delta Squad somewhere in Moscow. It was like trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Moscow was a big city, and Sergei Turov owned quite a few warehouses. Alex tapped his fingers on the table. He hated waiting. Hated feeling helpless. They’d been delayed by an entire day. It was starting to set in just how far they’d dove off the deep end. They were AWOL. Hell, they’d deserted.
Like Viper, they were fugitives if any of this came to light before they were through. He looked at the determined faces around him and knew these men wouldn’t have it any other way. It was do or die now.
“What the fuck?” Kid said, his fingers tapping the keys faster now. “Yeah, I see it. You?”
He wore a microphone so he could talk to Hacker. Apparently they’d found something. Everyone in the room jerked their attention to Kid. He stared hard at the screen, his eyes darting back and forth, fingers flying.
And then he hit a key and threw his hands up. “Boom! We’re in.” He turned a shit-eating grin on them. “We’ll have the IP address of the person who loaded the fake data to HOT’s servers in about five minutes, give or take.”
“Delta’s location?” Alex asked, heart thumping.
Kid hesitated for a second. The grin returned. “Hacker’s got it. Transmitting the coordinates now.”
“Hallelujah,” Viking said as several of the guys punched the air and high-fived each other.
But they still had a bit of reality to deal with.
“Now we just have to hope Gina Domenico gets us through customs,” Alex said.
The mood shifted down a couple of notches. Because they all knew this wasn’t a typical op. They weren’t arriving on a CIA transport or HALOing in from a military jet high above the target zone. They were walking into this country as tourists, and they were dependent on the fame of their hostess to get them through the entry process. Once in, nothing would stop them.
But first they had to get there—and that was not a guarantee.
If this were a regular op with a team, they’d have infiltrated Sergei’s house at multiple points. The power would have been shut down and whole wings of the house would have been cut off. But they were two operators in a ten-thousand-square-foot space, and they could only do so much.
According to the map, the main living areas were concentrated in the center of the house. Sergei’s bedroom, the room that Kat had identified, was on the second floor. He would still be in it at this hour, and he would be asleep. They just had to get there.
There were workmen in the house, but they were confined to a section that would not disturb Sergei. As for staff, they nearly ran smack into a maid in the guest quarters, but they waited in the shadows until she’d gone inside a room, humming as she carried a stack of sheets. Then they hurried toward Sergei’s room.
Kat took the lead. They’d both studied the map, both memorized every detail on it, but she was the one with actual knowledge of Sergei’s life and routines. She knew there would be no staff in that section of the house yet, because Sergei didn’t like people infringing on his space. Other than the person who brought him his morning coffee and then served him breakfast, everyone else had to wait until he was gone—or until they were summoned—before they could enter his rooms to do anything.
Johnny stayed on her six, covering them as they swept through rooms and halls. They came to a set of back stairs and ghosted up them, emerging into a hallway with tall ceilings and gilded plaster carvings that segmented the walls at regular intervals. The panels between the carvings featured frescoes from Peter the Great’s era.
It was the hallway from the camera room. Kat stopped near the door to the room she’d identified as Sergei’s and made eye contact with Johnny. He had his back to the wall, like she did. They stared at each other for a long moment. There was no sound from inside the room, but there wouldn’t be. Her heart kicked up. It had been so painless to this point. Surprisingly. She just hoped it didn’t go wrong the instant they busted into the room.
But what if she’d made a mistake? What if this wasn’t Sergei’s room at all?
Johnny nodded at her and then kicked the door open, pistol in front of him as he swept the room. Kat came in behind him.
The room was huge and furnished with gilded furniture. Two doors faced each other on opposite walls. One was presumably the bathroom. The other might be a closet or a sitting room.
There were oil paintings on the walls and a large television screen that slid down from the ceiling and hovered over the bed. She could tell from the blue light flickering that it was on, but there was no sound. On the king-sized bed, Sergei lay on top of the covers, fully dressed, arms behind his head, a smile on his face.
“Ah, Sasha, my love—we meet again.”
“Don’t fucking move, asshole,” Johnny said, pistol aimed at Sergei’s heart.
A bad feeli
ng set up shop in Kat’s brain. It oozed into her chest, tapped a sick beat in her belly.
“And this must be the famous Colonel John Mendez,” Sergei said, his eyes hardening. “I have much to thank you for, Colonel.”
“Where are my men?” Johnny demanded, weapon never wavering. “I’ll fucking splatter your brains across those pillows if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”
Sergei tsked. “Do that and you’ll never find them, will you?”
He swung his legs from the bed and reached for his cane. Johnny stiffened as Sergei levered himself up.
“Where are my men?” Johnny repeated.
“They are safe. For now.” He pointed at the television screen overhead. “See for yourself.”
Johnny moved where he could keep an eye on Sergei and also glance at the screen. She looked up as well. The screen was a camera feed. There was a cage, like a monkey cage in a zoo, with bars high overhead and down all sides. Inside the cage were nine men. They did not appear to be harmed.
“See? Safe,” Sergei said. “But if you wish to save their lives, you will need to put down your weapons.”
“It’s a lie,” Kat said. “If we put these down, he’ll kill us.”
Johnny hadn’t relaxed his stance, but she knew he was thinking about it. Thinking how he could turn the situation to his advantage. It was an impossible choice, and they both knew it.
“After all I’ve done for you, Sasha,” Sergei chided her. “I told Dmitri not to kill you in New Orleans. And you don’t even have the grace to be thankful.”
“If you spared me, it was so you could do something even worse.”
“Worse than taking your life?” His eyes gleamed. “What could be worse than that?”
He was baiting her. She would not fall for it. He wanted her to get emotional, to make bad judgments. Instead, she kept her weapon trained on him and refused to let her emotions—disgust, anger, horror, the need for retribution—take charge.
HOT Valor (Hostile Operations Team - Book 11) Page 22
