Forged Risk

by Sidney Bristol

  “I’m afraid you’re stuck with the name.”

  “That’s too much pressure to live up to.”

  “It’s quite complimentary,” Felecia said.

  Diha groaned. “Don’t you start, too.”

  “What? What’s wrong with that? I don’t understand.” Felecia frowned at Evan. “Not all Bond girls are vapid. Judi Dench and Halle Berry, for example?”

  “Judi Dench? She was M. She wasn’t...”

  Felecia shrugged and took the phone from him. “She is considered to be a Bond girl. She was part of the team.”

  “Hm.”

  The silence drew on for a moment.

  An overhead voice announced the imminent takeoff.

  “I’m keeping my eyes on you. Fly safe,” Diha said and then was gone.

  Felecia handed the phone back to him.

  “How do you know so much about Bond Girls?” he asked.

  She frowned at him. “I told you, I mostly watched TV. I think I’ve seen every spy anything ever made.”

  “Is that your favorite genre? Did you want to be a spy growing up?”

  “No. I was looking for ideas on how to get free. A lot of what’s in those shows is bullshit, but every now and then something actually works.”

  Evan processed that statement slowly.

  She’d used what she’d watched on TV to help her try to get free of her father. Everything she did was about fighting for that freedom. Even now she was doing something that terrified her because it meant that at the end of all this, she might just get to be free.

  He wanted that for her, no matter what it looked like in the end. Even if he wasn’t part of it.

  She should get the chance to call the shots in her life.

  “Hey.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a rubber bracelet. “I want you to wear this.”

  He held it out. Felecia studied the purple band. Without question she took it from him and slipped it on.

  “There’s a tracking device in the plastic,” he said quietly.

  She touched the purple band and twisted it around her wrist. “So you can find me anywhere. I like that.”

  The knot of uncertainty eased and he drew an easy breath. “I didn’t like knowing how close someone came to...”

  She smiled. “You saved me.”

  “You were doing a pretty good job of saving yourself.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe against one, but not two.”

  “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

  “My grandmother taught me how to fight with a knife. How to protect myself.”

  “Your grandmother?”

  Felecia merely nodded as if that were totally normal.

  Evan needed to know more. About everything to do with her. Not for work or the job, but because he wanted that knowledge for himself.

  “That was when your dad wasn’t in your life. What was it like without your dad?” He eased his chair back a little, his attention fully on her. “Was it better?”

  Felecia propped her elbows on the arm rest and twined her fingers through his, constantly moving. “I like to think it was, but I was still a prisoner. I was still living in a cage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “My grandparents were careful. They knew who my dad was. I think they blamed my mom for falling in love with him. Then there was doing all the normal things. Even as a kid you have to earn your way.”

  “Earn your way?” he repeated, frowning more with each word. “How?”

  “Begging.”

  “You—what?”

  “I begged. I had an outfit I wore. We’d put ashes from the fireplace in my hair and I’d go find a spot. I always had the best luck outside Kazan Cathedral.” A slight smile curved her lips. “Grandma taught me how to use a knife after some bigger kids beat me up and took my money.”

  Evan could only stare.

  She’d been forced to beg as a child?

  “I suppose I’ve always lived in some form of prison. It’s all I know.”

  His heart ached for her.

  Children should be free. Happy. Not forced to work. Not like that. Never like that.

  She was right.

  All her life she’d lived in a cage.

  Her grandparent’s.

  Her parent’s.

  And now theirs.

  Evan lifted their joined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He stared into her eyes and knew he was beyond helping. “I promise you, when this is over, no one’s keeping you locked up.”

  Her smile grew sad. She reached over and stroked his cheek. “We all live in cages, Evan. Some of us get to choose, some of us don’t. That’s the only difference.”

  WEDNESDAY. HOTEL. ST Petersburg, Russia.

  Obran tossed the duffle bag into the back of the van while keeping his phone wedged between his shoulder and head. Things were moving too fast now.

  “Pick up,” he muttered.

  At the last moment, before the line might have gone to voicemail, a man answered. “Hello?”

  “Why are you breathing hard?” Obran froze.

  “I had to chase down the damn trash can. Winds are gusting today,” the man said.

  “What’s the latest? Has anything happened?” Obran locked his knees, as if that would protect him from further bad news.

  “Bah. Nothing. Packages are safe,” the man said, enunciating each word with care.

  All the breath left Obran’s lungs.

  Safe.

  They were safe.

  “Good,” he said after a moment.

  Everything was spinning out of control. At least he could do this one thing.

  “Keep them moving until you hear from me,” he said.

  “Sir? May I ask why? What’s going on?” the man asked slowly.

  There were few people in this world Obran trusted. He could count them on one hand and have fingers left over. This man was one of those people.

  “My daughter has struck out on her own, unaware of the danger.” He still had to choose his words carefully.

  “I see. Should I be prepared?”

  “No. No, this shouldn’t concern you.”

  A beep signaled an incoming call. Obran bid his friend goodbye and switched lines.

  “Hello?”

  “Sir, it’s Sasha,” a woman with a thick accent said. “You said to call if anything happened.”

  “Yes.” He once more froze in the process of closing the van doors. What now?

  “Two bodies were just found in the airport in Amsterdam. I didn’t get a look at them, but—”

  Obran cursed, his words drowning out the woman’s words. “What of a young woman? She’s traveling under the name—”

  “Felecia. I checked, but she’s not on any flight manifest.”

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “One of my people did see her board a plane bound for America.”

  “America? Can you be more specific?” He broke out in a cold sweat.

  “She’s on a plane bound for Texas.”

  He hung up the phone and closed the door to the van, then turned to lean against it.

  The house of cards he’d so carefully constructed was coming down.

  His daughter was headed to Texas. Skilton wanted her to serve as a leash for him. And all of his secrets were about to become resurrected.

  Obran had to get ahead of this. Somehow, someway, he had to prevent Felecia from finding out the truth. The truth he’d kept from her.

  He should have made her go away. He should have given her the life she wanted, but he hadn’t wanted to be alone. She was all he had left of the family he’d thought he’d never have. In his greed he’d tried to keep her, and now they both might pay the price.

  16.

  Wednesday. Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. Austin, Texas.

  Felecia wasn’t the most well-traveled person, but even she knew the Emirates flying experience was unique and luxurious. There were no knots in her
back or shoulders from uncomfortable seats. She wasn’t hungry. Everything had been perfection.

  She’d almost been able to fool herself into believing this was a dream where she got to jet off to parts unknown with a handsome man with eyes so blue they couldn’t possibly be real. It was a nice fantasy and she was certain Evan would have helped her with it if she’d told him even part of it.

  Just thinking of him made her glance over her shoulder at him carrying their things out of the airport and to the waiting SUVs.

  To think, when she’d met him she’d had a foolish plan to seduce him into helping her get away. Now she thought about her words carefully so she wouldn’t make him think she wanted to get out of here. She had a sinking suspicion that he might very well ignore orders and help her if she said that was what she wanted.

  Kelsey bumped shoulders with her. “Stare much harder and you’re going to break him.”

  “Sorry?” Felecia said. She’d understood the other woman though she wished she hadn’t.

  Kelsey merely grinned and smacked her on the shoulder. “Come on. Logan’s getting grumpier than normal.”

  Felecia glanced back at Evan again only to find him shadowing her closely, his gaze serious. She drew an easier breath with him this close. No doubt Logan wanted to know where they were going next.

  There would be no going back after this.

  Evan’s hand brushed her back, just a comforting touch to let her know he was still there.

  She nodded and followed Kelsey toward the cluster of men waiting for her.

  Logan stood in the center of them, hands on his hips, clothes rumpled. The others hadn’t had as near a relaxing flight as she had. That would do with remembering.

  “Well?” Logan prompted.

  “Here.” She held out a slip of paper. “This is where we’re going.”

  “What’s there?” He took it from her and unfolded it.

  “I have no idea.”

  Logan glanced up at her and frowned.

  She shrugged. “Dad always said I’d know what to do when I got there.”

  Logan scowled. He clearly did not like that answer. Well, that was all she had to tell him. He muttered a few words as he glanced around the gathered people.

  “Alright, Evan, Kelsey, Harper, take the second SUV. Everyone else with me.”

  “Shotgun,” Harper called out.

  Kelsey sniffed and muttered her own choice words, but they were too low for Felecia to hear.

  Evan took her hand and tugged, leading her to the second idling SUV.

  Whoever had brought the vehicles was gone.

  Felecia slid into the backseat with Kelsey and buckled in. Despite the couple hours of sleep she’d gotten, the days of stress and travel were wearing on her. She had no idea when all of this might be over.

  She peered out of the window. Her father had taken her all over Russia and the neighboring countries, but not much farther. She’d never been to the Americas.

  Why was it the sky looked so impossibly blue here? It was the same sky she saw at home, but for some reason it seemed...bigger. Bluer.

  White clouds skittered by overhead.

  The SUVs made slow progress. The road was clogged with vehicles inching along.

  Her enthusiasm began to wane and her eyelids grew heavy. She leaned her head back, listening to the soft voices of the others as they bantered over things and people she didn’t know about.

  For the first time in years she felt safe.

  The next thing Felecia knew a gentle hand stroked her cheek. The SUV was no longer moving.

  “Hey? Hey, wake up, sleepy head,” Evan murmured in Ukrainian.

  She turned her face into his touch. If waking up meant loosing this, she didn’t want to.

  He chuckled and jostled her. When he spoke, his voice was harder. “Come on, we’re here.”

  Here.

  Texas.

  The address.

  Felecia’s eyes popped open. The bright sunlight stabbed her eyes. She winced and held her hand up.

  “Where are we?” She sat up a bit straighter and glanced around.

  In all the time she’d been with her father, he’d favored urban areas. Lots of tall buildings with basements and alleys to disappear into. When they’d landed she’d assumed they were headed toward the tall glass spires reaching into the sky.

  “Where are we?” She looked around her.

  The road could accommodate at least three of the SUVs side by side. The dark asphalt road was lined with trees, their limbs swaying in the breeze, leaves rustling. Beyond the trees were homes. They were long, rectangular things that sprawled over the ground. They were like something out of a TV show, all perfect manicured and painted.

  Felecia looked back at Evan. “Where are we?”

  “The address.” He nodded down the street. “It’s that one.”

  She couldn’t see the house well from the back seat of the SUV so she got out. The others were standing on the walk, the front door standing open.

  Alarm bells went off in her head.

  “What’s wrong?” She took two steps toward the house before Evan grabbed her hand and tugged her to a stop.

  “When we got here, the house was empty and the doors unlocked. It looks like someone left in a hurry. Like they knew we were coming.”

  “No.” She pulled out of Evan’s grasp and started jogging across grass and toward the house.

  Unlike most of the other homes, this one was two levels. The exterior was a molted brown, cream and red brick with dark brown trim. There were no decorative flowers out front, just some hedges neatly cut at right angles.

  “Felecia,” Logan called out, warning in his voice.

  She ignored him and entered the house.

  Why was her father sending all his most valuable information to a random house half the world away? Who lived here?

  “Felecia.” Evan entered right after her. He caught her in the entry, an arm around her waist, and pulled her to a stop. “We only did a quick sweep.”

  “Why here?” She turned in Evans arms and fisted the front of his shirt. “Who lives here, Evan?”

  He spoke in English now, likely for those entering the house behind them. “Records say a woman named Karen. We don’t know how they’re connected, but Diha is working on it. Stay with me. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Felecia moved after Evan as if she were still asleep and this were all a dream.

  The home was neat, the furnishings sparse but comfortable. She’d seen this called minimalism on TV. There was just something off. It wasn’t right.

  She wouldn’t want to stay here.

  The areas of interest on the first floor were minimal. The master bedroom appeared to be used, but not truly lived in. There were a few men’s things in the closet, but nothing that seemed permanent. The office drawers had been completely emptied. A few were even missing.

  Who was this person? Why had Dad never mentioned them?

  He’d always told her she’d know what to do when she got here.

  “Nothing’s upstairs, either. Just a few bedrooms,” Kelsey called down.

  Felecia glanced at Evan. “I want to look upstairs.”

  He nodded and followed her.

  The hardwood floors of the first level gave way to plush carpet so luxurious she felt guilty for wearing sneakers. But only a little.

  More than anything she wanted answers.

  Kelsey stood in the hall, her nose wrinkled. “Dudes. A kid lives here. Who gets a kid mixed up in this?”

  “A kid?” Felecia frowned and followed Kelsey into a bedroom.

  The walls were painted blue. The bedspread had images of Lego figures caught in action. Whoever the kid was, he’d left his bed neatly made.

  Unlike the rest of the house though, there were signs of life here. Toys littered the floor. Pages and crayons were on the desk.

  Felecia walked over to the desk and picked up one drawing. Two stick figures stood outside a house.

&n
bsp; Karen and this child?

  “What’s the deal?” Kelsey asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Evan mumbled.

  “This Karen, she lives here with her kid and keeps house for whoever uses the master bedroom and the office?” Felecia glanced at the other two.

  Kelsey shrugged. “It’s as good a theory as I’ve heard so far.”

  “There’s another bedroom?”

  “Yeah, but it’s got less personality than downstairs.”

  “Show me.” Felecia set the page down and followed Kelsey.

  Evan caught Felecia’s hand as she passed, giving it a quick squeeze. She didn’t miss how his other hand never strayed from his gun. Even now he was prepared to protect her. She smiled and followed.

  “See?” Kelsey stood just inside the bedroom. “No personality.”

  Felecia took in the sparse space.

  There was a queen sized bed made with the same neat precision as the boy’s bed. A dresser across from the bed held only a single small jewelry box. An armchair was positioned near the window with a blanket draped over it.

  That was it.

  “If it weren’t for all the clothes in the closet, I would have thought this was a guest bedroom or something,” Kelsey said.

  Felecia crossed to the chair, but didn’t sit in it. She peered out of the window.

  “Perfect sight lines up and down the street.” She looked over her shoulder. “She picked this room because she could see who was coming.”

  “Okay, but—why?” Kelsey threw up her hands.

  Evan pressed his fingers to his ear, his gaze growing distant. “The guys are starting to comb through things room by room. Goal is to move quick, determine if there’s anything of value here or if we should pass this off to the FBI.”

  “Want to start here?” Kelsey asked Felecia.

  “Sure.” She wasn’t thrilled with this idea. Something about the whole house unnerved her, but she couldn’t put her finger on what.

  “Okay, I’ll start in the closet. You get the dresser.” Kelsey peeled off her jacket, hung it on the door and turned toward the open closet doors.

  Felecia didn’t move quite that fast. Instead she lowered herself into the chair. The springs and foam were worn, comfortable, clearly often used.

  Karen, whoever she was, sat here often. Because she expected danger? Because she wanted to look out for her child?