DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 1

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by james


  “Exactly.” She sighed. “And after a botched job a couple years ago, I learned to

  rely more on instinct than what a computer might say.” She turned to him then. “And

  besides the fact the computer had very little to say about Dimitri Petrolov, there was

  something about the whole situation that didn’t fit.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “Yes, you’re just a jammy bugger.” She heard the slip of skin squeak on the

  marble tub. “Now, I have a feeling your ward will be coming out and I’d rather her not

  dart back in and relock the door.”

  He took the hint and walked out of the room. She sat back on the windowsill and

  waited.

  She heard the rustle of things in the bathroom. Heard a whispered something, but

  couldn’t make it out.

  Then the click of a lock and a crack of the door.

  Silently, she waited.

  * * * *

  The room was dark. Monsters were in the dark. But they were in light too.

  She reached up, stood on her tip toes and flicked the light off.

  Her breath panted out and she waited. Was anyone here?

  What about the lady?

  The man?

  Would they hurt her as well? The others had hurt her.

  She looked at her arm where the spots itched. The spots where they put the long

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 65

  silver needle in. She shivered.

  No. No. She’d think of something else.

  Her stomach rumbled and she was thirsty. Maybe they had some juice.

  She pulled the door open a little more. Nothing moved and her toes were cold The

  air was cold against her wet skin and hair. Water trickled down her back from the wet

  strands.

  Her teeth chattered.

  Maybe if she was really good, they’d go back and get Zoy.

  She wanted Zoy.

  She opened the door wider and stepped into the cool room, pulling the towel

  tighter against her.

  The woman still sat at the window. Slowly the woman turned.

  She stopped by the bed and looked to the doorway of the room. She could run.

  Maybe she’d get away.

  But if she left, the snakes would eat her. That’s what the other lady had told her. If

  they ran away from the adults snakes would eat them. And spiders. The lady said spiders

  too.

  She didn’t like snakes or spiders.

  The deep rumble of voices floated from the other room and through the door she

  saw the man … the man who had helped her.

  He hadn’t hurt her. He gave her his coat and he spoke to her. Telling her she

  didn’t have to be afraid that no one would hurt her. But he still looked mean. Maybe he

  could scare away monsters, snakes and spiders. He looked like he could. She nodded to

  herself. He would. Spiders would run away from him and he could probably shoot a

  snake.

  He walked back in front of the door, talking to the other man.

  She looked over to at the woman.

  Carefully, to see if the woman jumped at her, she stepped towards the doorway.

  There, she saw the man again. He glanced up and stopped, then he smiled.

  Pulling the towel tighter she darted a look around the room, saw the other man.

  And behind them was water. On the table.

  She swallowed. She’d sipped some of the water in the bathtub, but it tasted like

  soap.

  Would they let her have any? The other people wouldn’t let them. She stared at

  the water.

  The nice man picked up a bottle and held it out to her. She didn’t understand what

  he was saying.

  She stared at him and he squatted down, holding the bottle out to her and talking

  softly. His voice rumbled over her and reminded her of her Papa’s.

  But Papa went to Heaven. She knew that. But still, this man hadn’t hurt her. He’d

  helped her. Even if he did look mean.

  Still, she watched him, kept the towel held tightly to her. Watching him, she

  scratched again at the red dots on the inside of her arm.

  Then he spoke and she understood him.

  “U tyebya vsyo v aryadke?”

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 66

  She stopped, snatched the bottle from him, trying to open it. Slowly, he put his

  hands on top of hers She froze, her heart kicking against her chest, holding her breath. He

  twisted the cap.

  His eyes were nice. Very dark blue … like hers. And Zoy’s.

  He smiled at her and asked the question again. “U tyebya vsyo v aryadke?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t feel okay. She was tired, and hungry and

  wanted Zoy.

  His eyes might be blue like hers, but they were hard. But he hadn’t hurt her, so

  maybe he would help her. And since he’d picked her up, he’d kept the monsters and

  snakes and spiders away.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 67

  CHAPTER NINE

  Pink fingered and yawning, dawn crept over the night sky. Elianya sat in her car,

  parked down the street watching all the activity of her town house.

  Rage flowed thin and quick through her, a fast striking adder.

  Damn the man. Damn him to everlasting hell.

  They had dumped the body near the first stream they’d come to. And when her

  guards had not checked in, she’d finally had her driver turn around so that she could

  check things out for herself.

  Her driver said nothing. There were six police cars, their yellow and blue lights

  flashing in the early morning. Men in nylon coats and others in long dark trenches walked

  in and out of the front door. She looked up, saw people in the upper levels as they stalked

  back and forth in front of the windows.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was glad she’d told the driver to

  turn around.

  “We should go if we’re going to make Austria at a decent hour.” She didn’t look

  at her driver. “You called in the reservations?”

  “Yes madam.”

  She nodded. Now what to do? She had another passport, complete with another

  identity in case this little eventuality ever arose. Elianya sniffed, she was not about to

  spend any time in jail. She pulled her white fur tighter around her.

  The problem was that if they found the cache of video tapes, which she was

  certain they would and some of the paper files, then the authorities would know most of

  the places she would go.

  Of course they probably wouldn’t know them all. They couldn’t know them all.

  Not all were in file, or even operating yet. She could drive up to Cheb, but that was

  dangerous. Too many of her brother’s people up there. Too many bosses and enforcers

  who would love to make her pay.

  She sighed. That had not been planned well. She should have made it look as

  though Viktor had been killed in an accident, or at the very least by his own enforcer.

  Then the bosses would be helping her and aiding in trying to kill one Dimitri Petrolov. Of

  course, they would undoubtedly be looking for him regardless. He knew too many of their

  secrets. Too many shipment dates, too many meeting places, too many names.

  She grinned.

  All men.

  She should have planned to just take them all out, but this worked as well. There

  had been an opportunity and she’d taken it. She just needed a bit of time. She had enough

  money in her Swiss and Cayman accounts already under anot
her name.

  Now it was simply time to become someone else.

  She sighed again. “Go.” She sat back as he pulled away from the curb and drove

  in the opposite direction of the chaos behind her.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 68

  Overall, it wouldn’t matter. She still had the main client list on her CPU in the

  back of the car. She still had account numbers. All she needed to do was find someplace

  to download it all onto her laptop and then back it up on disk.

  The town receded even as her phone rang.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “You idiot!” the voice said.

  She waited.

  “What in the hell have you started now?”

  “You told me to leave Petrolov alone and I haven’t even touched him.”

  “No, you blew his damn cover. Do you have any idea the amount of manpower

  you just put on this damn case? Everything will be blown way the hell open. Fuck.”

  She tsked. “You worry too much, my friend.” She picked at the fur. “Perhaps I

  rushed things with Viktor, but --”

  “Perhaps. We’ve now got a vacuum there. You know as well as I do, there will be

  war over who gets his holdings.” The other person muttered something she didn’t catch.

  “And since you decided to leave the guards alive, they know who killed Viktor Hellinski.

  The guards knew he was alive before you went in. Then he’s dead. Not real bright.”

  She frowned. “I saw no reason to kill them. And it will work out. I’ve money, and

  connections. If they want to fight over my brother’s holdings, let them. I have my own.”

  A sigh answered her. “You may now. Tomorrow who’s to say?”

  Elianya knew she’d make it through this. She had undoubtedly rushed Viktor’s

  demise, but he was gone, she was moving on. And to better things.

  But there was one thing, one she would take care of before she completely turned

  her back on the past.

  “What of Petrolov?” she asked.

  “He’s our problem now. Your little stunt has alerted everyone to the fact we have

  a mole. Whether or not Petrolov dies, is moot. The problem is much bigger than him

  now.”

  Not the way she saw it. Perhaps the powers that be would figure out who their

  snitch was, mayhap she would help them there.

  But no matter what, Petrolov--until she learned his real name--would remain

  foremost in her mind.

  “I’ll contact you later,” she said.

  “Don’t. I shouldn’t --”

  Elianya hung up and cut her phone off. She didn’t care to talk to the informant.

  She looked at the small piece of technology and realized how stupid she was. They could

  trace her by her cell phone. At the first opportunity she would destroy it. It was tempting

  to simply toss it out the window. But that would be stupid.

  She took a deep breath and thought, how to find out Petrolov’s real name? She

  would. The contact had to know it, and she would obtain it.

  Elianya was not above blackmail and obviously her contact was worried. They

  should be, she could ruin them. She would unless they told her what she wanted to know.

  And what she wanted was very simple.

  A name.

  His name.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 69

  Not just another alias.

  Petrolov’s true identity.

  * * * *

  The River glinted a dark silver from the sun, mirroring the glass windows across

  the way. The men behind him talked in low voices. Rori stood behind the mini bar cutting

  up fruit room service had delivered. Cinnamon and baked pastries from the streusel and

  kolachies brought up filled the air, coffee swirled within the scents of the baked goods,

  reminding him he’d had nothing to eat since lunch yesterday.

  Snake, a medium sized Latino, originally from New Mexico, had looked over the

  little girl, noted her eyes were still a bit glazed, from drugs or shock, and decided against

  giving her anything else. Though cautious, the child moved with ease, belying any

  injuries she might have. She sat quiet and still now, sucking her thumb. So, Snake, ever

  the efficient man, had gently placed his hand on her neck and squeezed a pressure point

  until she merely slumped to the side on the couch cushions.

  Ian bit down. “Was that necessary?”

  Snake, his dark eyes narrowed, stared at him. “Probably not, but it was a hell of a

  lot quicker than waiting for her to go to sleep or waiting until whatever drugs are in her

  system to work their way out.”

  Snake started to reach down and lift the child, but Ian stepped forward and

  mumbled, “I’ll do it.” He scooped her up, ignoring the stares the others threw him.

  “Where do you want her.”

  They went back to the bedroom and he laid her gently on the bed.

  “She’ll be out for a few minutes, and considering what you’ve told me, I’d rather

  not have her come to while we’re examining her,” Snake muttered, pulling out a

  stethoscope, some vials, a blood pressure gauge.

  Ian stood at the foot of the bed, thrumming his fingers against his thigh as Snake

  quickly checked her heart, her pulse.

  The harsh bruises on the back of the girl’s neck yelled at him from her pale skin.

  And as Snake quickly undressed her, more bruises and injuries made themselves known.

  Ian fisted his hands, cursing. “Son of a bitch.”

  Snake’s head whipped up. “Wait in the other room.”

  He started to. God help him, he almost turned around. Instead he swallowed,

  walked to the window and sat on the sill, looking out at the morning activity. At people

  who may or may not have a care in the world.

  Not like the poor soul on the bed.

  Christ. He closed his eyes, took another deep breath and wished again he was

  anywhere but here.

  Snake tended to whisper to himself, muttering as he examined, and Ian ignored

  him, or tried to. He didn’t even turn around when he heard Snake’s oath, and wasn’t

  surprised when the man softened his voice as if calming the little girl who couldn’t hear

  him.

  “Well,” Snake’s voice didn’t pull his attention from the street below, “She’s been

  bound, given injections in the arm, from the needle marks. Not too many, so I would have

  to say they didn’t have her too long as the last one is still somewhat fresh. Probably last

  night’s. I’m taking some blood samples to see what she’s been given.”

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 70

  He closed his eyes, thinking of the evidence he’d knowingly washed down the

  drain. “She took a bath.”

  “I know, but from what I can tell it doesn’t matter. She wasn’t sexually abused it

  seems. Of course where she was, what she saw….” He trailed off. “As for suffering as the

  poor girl on the video, no. This one here’s still a virgin, no bruising, no tearing, no signs

  of any sexual assault.”

  Thank God. Ian turned, breathing deep, controlling the rage that had roared up in

  him through the last few minutes. He cleared his throat. “When will you have the results

  from the blood test?” He walked to the bed, sat on the other side, reaching out and

  grazing his finger down her pale cheek.

  “Hard to say. Probably in a few days.” Snake tossed his stuff back into the bag,

  carefully set the vials into a s
mall tray and placed the tray in a miniature cooler. He

  quickly zipped all the compartments shut.

  Voices floated in from the other room.

  “Poor kid. Bastards,” Snake said, taking her pulse again.

  Without taking his eyes off of her, he reached out, took her other hand and said,

  “How old do you think she is?”

  Snake laid her hand gently on her chest and pulled the covers up. “Hard to say.

  Some kids are really small for their age, malnutrition, genes, whatever, others larger. But

  going on average, I’d say probably five. But she could be four or even six.” He shrugged,

  grabbed the discarded shirt and pulled it back over the girl’s head. Ian helped him put her

  arms into the garment.

  He rubbed his hands over his face. “How much longer will she be out?”

  Snake straightened, twisted, his back crackling. “A few more minutes, why?”

  Ian stood, walked into the living room and asked for a printing kit. Tanner,

  shoving pastry into his mouth, reached over, grabbed a kit out of his bag and handed it to

  Ian.

  Back in the room, he eased her fingers onto the pad, then onto the paper, printing

  each digit. Her palm was warm against his own fingers. In the bathroom, he wet a

  washcloth, and quickly cleaned her fingers off. He didn’t want her sucking on the ink.

  Probably wouldn’t hurt her, but still.

  When he was finished, he tossed the washcloth into the wastebasket, where they

  were tossing all their towels. He knew when they left here, they’d also clean the room,

  strip it of linens, cram them in a bag and toss it below themselves--preferably in the

  incinerator.

  Leave nothing behind.

  That was the motto.

  He leaned his arms onto the counter and looked at himself in the mirror. His

  shadow was practically a beard. His hair long.

  He only saw the man he’d been for the last five years. One Dimitri Petrolov, who

  had saved girls, helped men and killed some he wished he could forget.

  “You look tired,” Rori’s quiet voice said behind him.

  He shifted his gaze to her in the mirror and didn’t say anything for a moment. Was

  she here only because he’d ordered her to? Was it more? Did she still plan on taking him

  out? He didn’t trust her. Not really, yet something about her pulled at him.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 71

  Her head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowed. “What?”

 

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