by Cate Noble
“Zadovsky arrived in Rio two days ago, accompanied by two men. Grigori says one of them, Karl Romanov, another ex-KGB agent, has contacts there. The original plan was for Grigori to nab Cat and turn her over to Viktor. Of course, since Grigori hasn’t checked in, Viktor will know something’s wrong. Grigori says Zadovsky is obsessed with the idea that Catalina stole something from his lab before she escaped. Grigori thinks it’s wishful thinking. Apparently Zadovsky’s had some cognitive issues since the accident.”
Dante’s mind flashed back to that job in Belarus. Zadovsky’s notebook. They want that recipe book. The whole fucking enchilada. At any cost.
“Zadovsky didn’t know about Cat’s son, did he?” Dante asked.
“Grigori thinks no. He says the main objective was to search her room. For what it’s worth, Grigori thinks Viktor will remain in Rio now, waiting for Cat to contact the nun.”
“Any luck getting Viktor’s phone number?”
“Not yet. Grigori claims he won’t talk more until he’s on U.S. soil. I’m arranging transport now. I’m having his cell phone analyzed, but the damn thing had a dead battery and the chargers for it are only sold in BFE. As soon as I get something, I’ll call. Tell Rocco I’ll have an ETA on reinforcements shortly.”
After disconnecting, Dante relayed the conversation to Rocco.
“Jesus,” Rocco said. “What if Cat doesn’t have this data that Viktor’s after?”
“We may need to make Viktor think she does so we can delay long enough to set a trap. I’m going to talk to Cat,” Dante said. He moved to the bedroom door and knocked.
Cat answered, her eyes immediately searching his face. “Is there word?”
“A little. I just spoke with Travis.”
Cat motioned him into the room. He looked at the bed. The duvet was untouched. She’d probably been pacing, too.
“It turns out Grigori is a KGB sellout who is eager to cooperate with anyone but Moscow. Travis is working on getting Viktor’s phone number, too.”
“Oh, thank God!”
“Grigori thinks Viktor might have stayed here in Rio, knowing you’d return for Marco. We’re expecting backup and then we’ll work out a plan to contact Viktor.”
Cat’s eyes filled with tears. “There’s something I need to tell you—that I should have already told you. I have something of Viktor’s.”
“Don’t tell me its his notebooks,” Dante said.
She nodded. “I took those notebooks on the spur of the moment—thinking they’d be an insurance policy if Viktor ever threatened me again. And by the time I realized it only made me a bigger target, there was no undoing it.”
“Jesus! You could have sold them,” he whispered. “Made a fortune.” Instead of scrubbing floors in a brothel, living in fear.
“That wouldn’t have made the danger go away.” She brushed her hair back, held it. “The stuff he was doing, the viruses he talked about creating. What he did to Giselle. No one should have that kind of knowledge, that kind of power.”
Dante stepped closer, but she backed away. “Let me finish or I’ll never get this out. We need to set up a trade with Viktor. My son and Sister Lolita in exchange for me.”
“What! You? If we do any human exchanges, it’ll be me, Cat.” Dante’s temper flared.
“I’ve given this a lot of thought and it has to be me. Viktor will want proof that I still have his data. I can give him sketches of what I saw, and then take him to where the data is hidden.”
“I could do that just as easily.”
“But you’re the only one who can keep Marco safe. You’ve got the CIA behind you and now you’ve got Grigori, too. After Marco is secure, you can come after me.”
“No. We’ll find another way, Cat.”
“There’s not another way that is fast enough.” She moved to the desk, picked up a sheet of paper, and held it out to him. “This is just in case.”
Dante took the paper and read the top line. Last Will and—He ripped it in two, let the pieces fall to the floor.
“I won’t lose you again, Cat. I love you. You hear me? And I’m as prepared to love our son as I am determined to get him back safely. You have to trust me.”
“No! You have to trust me!” Cat launched herself at him then pounded his chest with her fists as she wept. “I want Marco, I want my son!”
Dante didn’t stop her. He understood that right now there were no words that could make this better.
As her anger subsided, she leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his waist. He pulled her close…and then he was kissing her fiercely. Cat’s arms raised and entwined around his neck now, tugging him closer.
His body responded, growing hard as Cat rubbed against him, making soft sounds as her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it loose.
To hold her, to kiss her again, was heaven. And after all the hell they’d been through…
Jesus. He broke the kiss, remembering what Viktor had done to her. And now here he was—
“Please.” She rose onto her toes, trying to pull him down, wanting to continue the kiss.
“Cat, baby, listen. I don’t want this to get out of control.” To hurt you any more than you’ve already been hurt.
She dropped her head to his chest and started crying once again. “I’m so tired of control. Of everyone else’s control.”
“Shhh. Then I won’t tell you no.” Dante caught her chin and held her gaze. “We’ll do anything you want, Cat. But if you feel uncomfortable at any point—just tell me to stop.”
And then he caught her mouth again in a kiss that went on and on. Their movements grew frantic as they stripped off their clothes, kissing, touching, moving closer to the bed.
Her hands skimmed down his sides, then closed over his erection.
Dante cupped her, found her wet, ready. He picked her up and laid her on the bed, covering her body with his.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Cat whispered. “Don’t ever stop.”
He pushed fully into her. She moaned, raising one leg to wrap about his hips, taking him deeper. And then she pushed up, grinding, rubbing, already on the verge.
He answered her demands for harder, faster, and felt her begin to shake with release.
Dante slowed, watching her, wanting to prolong the moment—only to lose it when she whispered, “I love you, too.”
Chapter 38
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
July 16
(Present Day)
Knocking sounded on the bedroom door. Cat looked at Dante, embarrassed to realize that for a moment she’d forgotten everything. Marco.
“I’ll be right out,” Dante called. The knocking ceased, but he made no move to get up.
He was still buried inside her, still hard…or hard again.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, then shook her head. She wouldn’t be okay until…She pressed a hand against his shoulder. “Maybe he’s heard something.”
“Yeah. We’ll get dressed.” Instead of moving away, he pressed the softest, gentlest kiss to her lips. “We didn’t use a condom. And I’m not apologizing for it.”
Cat wasn’t sure what he meant. What any of it meant. And right now she had other things to think about.
He pushed up and began gathering their clothes. Cat noticed more scars on his back, his buttocks. He had suffered much, too.
She took her clothes and moved toward the bathroom.
Dante stopped her. “How do you want to handle this data you’ve got of Viktor’s?”
“Is it really my choice?”
“Yes. You’ve got the most at stake here, Cat. And you’ve paid a hellacious price to keep this secret. For what it’s worth, Grigori already expressed doubt that you even have it. You’re the only one who can disprove that.”
Cat felt tears threaten. “If I have to give it back to Viktor to get our son, I will. All that crap about the good of the many doesn’t mean shit when you’re on the side of the few.”
�
�Agreed. Let’s keep it quiet and see what we learn. I’ll meet you out there.”
Cat got cleaned up and dressed, grateful for a few moments alone. With her son’s safety at stake…the line between right and wrong no longer mattered. It was frightening to think of what she’d do to free her son, to assure his well being.
Dante and Rocco were at the dining room table when she walked out.
“We got Viktor’s cell phone number,” Dante said. “Since he gave Sister Dores a number, he’ll be expecting you to call. I suggest we make contact and see what we can find out.”
“We don’t have the means to track his cell phone,” Rocco said. “But I’m set up to record the call.”
“We’ll use my cell phone,” Dante went on. “On speakerphone. Ask to speak with Sister Lolita. Even if he refuses, try to keep him on the line as long as you can. You ready?”
Cat nodded. Her hands shook as she dialed the number.
The phone rang three times and went to voice mail, with only a beep. She began talking.
“This is Catalina. I want my son and Sister Lolita released unharmed. Call me at…” She glanced at the piece of paper Dante had shoved at her with his cell number, then read it into the phone.
After disconnecting, she sat down. “How do we even know that’s the right—”
Dante’s phone rang, startling her.
Dante held a finger to his lips while Rocco activated the recorder.
Cat hit the speakerphone button. “Hello.”
Viktor Zadovsky’s voice came through as he greeted her in Russian. “I was beginning to wonder if you even cared about this precious boy.”
“Where is Marco?” she demanded in Russian. “Let me speak with Sister Lolita.”
“Make another demand and I’ll hang up.” Viktor switched to English. “I’m sure others are listening. Now, I have something of yours, you have something of mine. I propose a trade. I will call back in fifteen minutes with instructions.”
“Wait—” Cat said. But it was too late. Viktor had already disconnected.
Viktor called back in ten minutes. Cat flew back to the dining room table.
“Told you,” Rocco mouthed as he prepared to record the call. He and Dante had begun packing gear as soon as the last call ended.
They expected Viktor to make demands quickly, to keep them off guard. The penthouse’s three security agents had joined them, but now they, too, grew silent.
Dante came to stand behind Cat as she answered. “Yes, I’m here.”
“I am eager to see you again, my pet,” Viktor said in English across the speakerphone. “We have much unfinished business.”
Cat felt Dante’s fingers tighten at her shoulder. “All I care about is my son.”
“And you think I did not care about mine?” Viktor’s voice rose. “We will discuss that point in person, when we have more time. More privacy. Now how long will it take you to retrieve my property?”
“I have it now.” She saw Rocco shake his head. He wanted her to delay. But Cat couldn’t bear to stretch it out.
She wanted her son and Sister Lolita freed. Since the data she’d stolen was buried in Germany, she’d have to convince Viktor to take her there.
“Excellent,” Viktor said. “Here is what you need to do.”
Cat held a pen, ready to write. “Can I talk to Sister Lolita, please?”
“No!” Viktor snapped. “And do not ask again. Or the little nun will pay. Do you remember how that works?”
Giselle. “I remember.”
“Here are the rules: No tricks, or your son and the nun die. You need to get in your car and leave now. Dante Johnson may drive—I’m sure he’s listening in—but no one else! Or your son and the nun die. Bring my property, or your son and the nun die. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
“Now, then, head east on the President Costa e Silva bridge, toward Niterói, “Viktor said. “I will call in thirty minutes.”
The line went dead.
Rocco wasn’t happy. “This is a setup. And what happens when he sees you don’t have his data?”
“I’ll tell Viktor that it’s hidden overseas,” Cat said. “He’ll have to take me with him.”
Dante shook his head. “It’s too risky.”
“What other choice do we have?” She met his gaze and saw how torn he was.
God, she loved him. But she’d made peace with her own death long ago. Yes, she wanted to live, but not at the cost of her son’s life.
Rocco had been talking with one of the security men. Now he rejoined them. “They’ll follow in separate cars, running a pattern. The three of us get to use one of the owner’s cars. It’s bulletproof and has a sniper compartment.”
“I won’t take any chances with Marco’s or Sister Lolita’s lives,” Cat said.
“Agreed,” Dante said. “But Viktor won’t play by the rules, so we have to take every advantage.”
Dante drove in Rio’s nightmare traffic, grateful for the distraction. Cat looked ready to jump out of her skin.
The Lincoln Towncar they borrowed had a hidden compartment between the backseat and the trunk, complete with shooter’s holes. He and Cat also had on Kevlar vests, courtesy of their host’s wardrobe. The magnitude of the favor Travis had called in was obvious.
Rocco was currently crouched on the floor behind them, keeping in radio contact with the others. They were on the bridge between Rio and Niterói when Viktor called again, only to reverse his directions. It took twenty minutes to find a spot where they could turn and head back.
Viktor proceeded to run them around, back and forth, on the same stretch of interstate before finally telling them to head north, toward the city of Petropolis, on BR-040.
“About time,” Rocco said as he relayed instructions to one of the men following.
But then Viktor didn’t call for nearly an hour. Dante watched as Cat kept checking his cell phone, worried about the signal, but it remained strong. Maybe Rocco was a signal magnet after all.
When the phone finally rang at three o’clock, Cat let out a cry. “Hello!” she said, once again keeping Viktor on speakerphone.
“How far are you from Vila Bonanca?” Viktor asked.
Dante pointed to the GPS navigation screen that displayed an area map.
“Two, maybe three, kilometers,” Cat estimated.
“You’ll need to write this down.” Viktor rattled off detailed instructions that would take them away from the main interstate. “You’ll arrive at a private airstrip that can handle small jets. The combination to the gate is 3578. Park at the red flag and walk to the east end of the runway.” The phone went dead.
“Did you all catch that?” Dante asked Rocco.
“Yes. And it means the others will have to back off,” Rocco said. “Viktor will have a clear view of the entire area as he flies in.”
“See if they can find another road that comes in on the opposite side of the airstrip,” Dante said.
“And tell them to take no chances!” Cat added.
Dante reached across to take her hand. She grabbed it and squeezed. He knew they were both thinking about everything that could go wrong.
After relaying the information to the other drivers, Rocco put in an earpiece and tested the microphone Dante wore before rolling into the hidden compartment. Rocco had a rifle, but Dante prayed no shots would be fired. Not with Marco and the nun present.
Viktor would be pissed to learn Cat lied about having his data with her. But not having it there guaranteed that Viktor wouldn’t kill her on the spot. He would keep Cat alive at least until he retrieved his data.
For the hundredth time, Dante wished they’d had more backup, more time. They didn’t.
It took forty minutes to reach the deserted airstrip. At the gate, Dante punched in the code. With a quiet hum, it swung open. It was obvious this place was used for drug shipments and smuggling. Tucked in a valley, it was invisible from the road but well maintained.
A red wind sock
hung on a pole a half mile in. He parked perpendicular to the asphalt airstrip.
“Test, test.” Dante checked his earpiece and microphone a final time.
“Back at ya,” Rocco said. “Got video feed, too. I want one of these fucking cars.” A remote-control camera lens hidden in the grill fed footage back to the shooter’s compartment.
Dante spoke to Cat now. “Ready to do this?”
She nodded and reached for the handle to open the door. He stopped her, wanting to go over their plan again. Instead he held her gaze. “No matter what happens, know that I love you.”
He climbed out of the car before she could reply. The small suitcase he retrieved from the backseat held a brick, for weight, and a few quick sketches Cat had made as “proof” that she had Viktor’s data. If they were being watched, they didn’t want to appear to be showing up empty-handed.
As they walked to the end of the runway Dante surveyed the scene. It didn’t get any worse than this. Open fields on either side gave them absolutely no cover and made the Kevlar vests they wore feel even more inadequate.
Dante checked the time. They had less than an hour of daylight now. Viktor would probably fly in from the west—putting the setting sun right in their eyes. And then he’d fly off in the same direction, into the cover of darkness.
Cat scanned the skyline, then spun around. “Behind you!”
Dante heard the helicopter mere moments before it swooped in. The pilot swung around and buzzed the field before landing thirty feet away.
Dante turned his head away from the kick of grit and dirt. The pilot slowed the rotors, but didn’t shut off the engine.
The man who climbed out of the front seat of the helicopter brandished a large handgun as he moved to open the rear door.
“That’s Karl Romanov,” Cat whispered. “I’m not sure who the pilot is.” She drew a sharp breath. “I see Sister Lolita…and Marco!”
Dante saw a woman holding a child. Both were seated behind the pilot. He touched Cat’s forearm, felt her tension and knew she wanted to run forward.
“There’s Zadovsky,” he said.
Viktor had stepped out then leaned back into the helicopter and took Marco from Sister Lolita, leaving Karl to assist the nun. That both the nun and the child appeared unharmed relieved Dante. But when the nun tried to take Marco again, Viktor refused and continued to hold the child.
