The Double

by Newbury, Helena

  I closed the door and walked over to the metal table. The room was so quiet, I could hear the hiss of air as he breathed, each exhalation shaky with rage. I pulled out my chair, the legs scraping on the tiles, and sat down.

  “Please,” I said. “You have to tell us who’s going to be assassinated. Is it Luka Malakov? Angelo Baroni?” But he didn’t react, wouldn’t even look at me. “Please! I want to help you!”

  At that, he finally turned his head. But the raw fury in his eyes almost made me want him to look away again. I wilted under that glare, crumbled under it. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!

  “Why won’t you talk?” I blurted, close to tears. “Co-operate, you could be out in a few years instead of...I don’t want to see you spend your whole life in jail!”

  Without thinking, I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He looked down and a bolt of fear went through me as I realized what I’d done. He was a prisoner and I was meant to keep my distance. Even chained, he could easily break my neck if I let him get hold of me. I went to draw my hand back—

  And then I remembered the first time I’d ever taken his hand, in the back of his car, and how shocked he’d been. No one’s ever done that before. No one’s loved this man.

  He needed someone to love him now.

  So I left my hand where it was. Trusting him not to hurt me.

  And when he looked up and met my eyes, I could see a flicker of blue in all that cold gray. He still loved me, whether he wanted to or not.

  “Please,” I said again. “Talk.”

  He shook his head, but... the blue expanded and there was a hint, just a hint, of warmth as he looked at me. He turned away, trying to hide his weakness. But I’d seen it. He still cared about me, and the reason he wasn’t talking was—

  Oh God.

  The reason he wasn’t talking was me! Even now, even after everything I’d done to him, he was trying to protect me. He knew that if he talked to the FBI, it would eventually come out that I’d been running away to Russia with him. My career would be over: they might even charge me with something. “No,” I said frantically, “No, I won’t let you rot in jail just so that—”

  I broke off, staring into his eyes. I’d just remembered that Carrie was listening from behind the mirror. I leaned in and put my lips to his ear. “Thank you,” I whispered. “But I can’t let you do that. Tell us about the assassination. Cut a deal. I’ll take my chances.” He shook his head. “Please! There’ll be a gang war, innocents will die. I know you don’t want that!”

  He lifted his head and put his lips to my ear. Even now, the feel of him there, the sound of his voice, sent a hot rush straight through me. “Even if I didn’t care about you, Golub, I can’t tell them what they want to know,” he told me. “And if you really love me, you know why.”

  I heard the door bang open behind me. “That’s enough!” snapped Carrie.

  Konstantin’s head snapped up and he glared at his nemesis. She glared right back at him. “Mr. Gulyev,” she said, “if you won’t cooperate, fine. When the assassination happens, I’ll charge you with conspiracy to murder and put you in a deep, dark hole for the rest of your days.”

  I slowly stood up, my hand still on Konstantin’s. My eyes stayed locked on his as the realization hit me. I did know why.

  I hadn’t been wrong about Konstantin. I’d been right. He wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer.

  He couldn’t tell the FBI about the assassination because he wasn’t behind it.

  Someone had set him up.

  59

  Hailey

  I POUNDED up the stairs three at a time, too frantic to wait for the elevator.

  Carrie had warned me, just before I went undercover, about forgetting who I was. And the whole time I’d been in the mansion, I’d been worried she was right: was I forgetting I was Hailey? Was I turning into Christina?

  But I’d had it wrong. That whole time, I’d been me. It didn’t matter what I was called or what I looked like. The person who’d fallen for Konstantin had been me. And it had been me he’d fallen for. And the one time I’d gone against who I was, the one time I’d ignored my gut and tried to be a hard-nosed FBI agent, was when I’d arrested him.

  I’d betrayed the man I loved and now he was going to jail for the rest of his life for something he didn’t do.

  No he isn’t. Not if I have anything to do with it.

  I burst out of the stairwell and sprinted along the hallway. Found the correct room and threw open the door without knocking. Calahan was at a desk, being debriefed by two other agents. All three of them looked at me.

  “I need you!” I blurted, my voice raw and shaking.

  The other two agents scowled at being interrupted. “It’ll have to wait,” said one. “We’re in the middle of a—” He was cut short by Calahan pushing back his chair. “Agent Calahan, you can’t just—” Calahan got up. “Goddamn it, Calahan, don’t you dare—”

  Calahan walked out, shutting the door behind him. Then he turned and looked down at me, ready to help. God bless this man. I led him downstairs and out to the garden: It was the only semi-private place in the whole building. A cold wind was whipping across the open space, sending anyone not in a coat hurrying for shelter. But Calahan stood unflinching, one hand on my shoulder. “What is it?”

  I took a deep breath. “Konstantin isn’t behind the assassination. Someone’s setting him up.”

  It was the last thing he expected to hear. So many emotions crossed his face in just a few seconds. Shock. Then disbelief. Then anger, that Konstantin had fooled me with a lie, and pity for me that I’d believed it.

  “Hailey…” he said gently.

  “No! Listen to me! It’s not him! Someone else is behind it and they’re framing him!”

  Calahan shook his head. “Then why doesn’t Konstantin just tell Carrie that?”

  “Because she’d never believe him! No one will! Except me.” Calahan gave me a look. “I know how it sounds, but I know him. He wouldn’t just murder someone in cold blood, not even one of his rivals.” The wind blew my hair across my face and I shoved it angrily back. “He’s better than that!”

  “Hailey, all the evidence points to him. Hell, you found it! You saw the emails he sent to the assassin. You even delivered the money for him. You saw Grigory getting hold of the gun and heading off to deliver it, all on Konstantin’s orders.”

  “That’s just it, it’s too perfect! You really think someone as smart as Konstantin would leave that trail? Emails right there on his own laptop? Really?!”

  Calahan crossed his arms and scowled. But one thing about Calahan, he’s a champion for the truth. He doesn’t gloss over something just because it’s inconvenient. “No,” he said at last.

  “Someone else organized this whole thing.” I told him. “They played us. We were meant to find this evidence, but we were meant to find it after the assassination had happened.”

  He glared. I was getting through to him, but he still wouldn’t buy it. He’d had too many years fighting bad guys to side with one. He was willing me to back down. And a month ago, I would have. But a lot had changed. I’d changed. I crossed my arms and stared right back at him. “He’s done plenty wrong,” I said. “But he didn’t do this.”

  Calahan narrowed his eyes, rubbed his stubble..., and finally sighed. “Even if you’re right, what can we do? The assassination’s going to happen in less than two hours! We’ve warned Malakov and Baroni that there’s a possible threat to their lives: that’s all we can do.”

  “We need to stop it happening! We need to clear Konstantin’s name! The only way to do that is to find out who’s really behind it and that means….” I hesitated. “We’re going to need Konstantin’s help.”

  Calahan’s face fell as he realized what I was suggesting. He grabbed my shoulders. “Are you fucking insane? Helping a prisoner escape: that’s not just your career over, that’s federal prison for the rest of your life!” He shook his head. “You can’t even be sure you’re right.
What if he is guilty?”

  He glared down at me, determined to make me change my mind. His hands were unconsciously squeezing my shoulders and I could feel that protective need rolling off him in waves, like all he wanted to do was pull me to his chest and wrap his arms around me.

  I looked up into his eyes. “Sam,” I said, my voice shaky. “I love him. And I know that means I’m compromised. But it also means I know him. And he wouldn’t do this.”

  He glared. This was about more than just wanting to protect a friend. There was jealousy in his eyes, too. I was asking him to put his career, even his freedom on the line, to help the other man. My stomach knotted. I hated asking him to do it, but there was no other way.

  “Please,” I whispered. “I can’t do this without you.”

  Calahan scowled and looked away, cursing. I held my breath….

  “Fuck it,” said Calahan at last. “Carrie’s been trying to fire me for years. Might as well go out with a bang.” He sighed and met my eyes. “What’s the plan?”

  60

  Konstantin

  TWO AGENTS were interrogating me—or trying to. They were playing good cop, bad cop while I stared at them, silent and impassive. In another few hours, it would all be over. A shot would be fired from a rifle and they’d put me in jail for a murder I had nothing to do with...but at least Hailey would be spared. She’d be able to continue at the FBI, a good person doing good work.

  I didn’t hate her. I’d tried to but I couldn’t. She’d done what she thought was right and I could see how much it had hurt her.

  At that moment, the door flew open. Hailey?! Even in her shapeless gray suit, she was so beautiful it hurt. She had a man with her, a big guy with stubble who looked like he’d slept at his desk. “Change of plan,” she announced to the two agents. “We’re taking the prisoner upstairs. Going to question him somewhere more civilized.”

  “What?” Both agents stood up and the one who’d been playing bad cop got in her face. “That isn’t procedure! Does Carrie know about—”?

  “It was her idea,” said Hailey coolly. “If you want to argue with her….”

  The good cop agent backed down, but the bad cop one squared his shoulders. “I will,” he muttered. He marched out and the other agent hurried after him.

  Hailey ran over to me. “Get up,” she told me. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  I stood, blinking at her. It was only when the stubbled guy produced a handcuff key and my chains fell to the floor that I realized what was happening. Then I grabbed Hailey, lifted her into the air, and crushed her against my chest. “Golub,” I breathed.

  “I’m sorry!” she said into my chest. “I’m sorry, I was wrong—”

  “Sweet,” interrupted the stubbled guy, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But we’ve got about three minutes until those guys get up to our boss’s office and discover they’ve been played. So unless you want us all to spend the rest of our lives in jail, move!”

  I saw the anger in his eyes. He hates me. So why is he helping? Then I saw his gaze drop to my hands, where they stroked Hailey’s back. He glared at them as if he was trying to burn them off.

  That’s why he was helping her. And that’s why he hated me. I felt jealousy stirring in my own chest, hot and possessive.

  Hailey pushed back from me a little and saw what was going on. “Two minutes,” she said, her cheeks flushing red.

  The guy gave me a curt nod and I nodded back. Later.

  We ran. Out into the hallway. Up the stairs to the first floor. We slowed as we reached the crowded lobby: the alarm might be raised at any second, but if we walked too fast, it would arouse suspicion. I could glimpse daylight and freedom through the glass doors of the building, only thirty feet away.

  “Isn’t that—Wait, is that Konstantin?!” a guard asked as we passed.

  “Yep. Lawyers got him off on a technicality. Go figure,” Hailey told him, not slowing her pace. We were twenty feet from the doors. Fifteen—

  A klaxon started to blare. All around us, the guards’ radios came to life. I heard lockdown and Konstantin and Hailey Akers and Agent Calahan

  “Run!” yelled the stubbled guy and we sprinted for the doors. A guard charged in front of us, drawing his gun, but I shouldered him out of the way and we burst out into the open air. A shabby-looking car was parked right outside the doors and we dived in, Hailey and me in the back and the stubbled guy—Agent Calahan, I presumed—behind the wheel. We were thrown back in our seats as he stamped on the gas and then the FBI building was shrinking in the rear view mirror.

  “They’ll be looking for my car,” Calahan muttered to us over his shoulder. He didn’t try to hide the anger in his voice. “Hold on. I’ve got to switch it.”

  He took the next corner without slowing down, then another and another, until our stomachs were churning and we were deep in a maze of narrow streets. He finally pulled into the open doorway of a garage and screeched to a stop. “Wait here,” he snapped, and got out.

  Hailey and I looked around. To our left, two guys were stripping a BMW of all its valuable parts. To our right, a man was grinding the identification numbers off a Mercedes while another guy fitted fake license plates. A chop shop. And Calahan seemed to know the men and know how to deal with them. First it was fist-bumps and hugs, then he pulled out his wallet and finally, when they still seemed reluctant to help, he shrugged and spread his arms wide. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could guess. Wouldn’t it be awful if the FBI got a tip-off about this place….

  I started to warm to the man.

  In less than five minutes, we were driving out in a fresh car: a piece of junk compared to what I was used to, but no one was looking for it and that made it more valuable than any limo. “You planned that well,” I allowed.

  Calahan didn’t turn around, but he glanced at me in the rear view mirror. “Not my first time breaking the rules.”

  When a few miles had gone by without any sign of pursuit, he pulled over and sat back with a sigh. “There. We’re clear.” He twisted around in his seat and scowled at me. “Now you better hope you can fix this thing—”—he glanced at Hailey—”for her sake.”

  I nodded. I understood what they’d both done for me. They were fugitives, now. And if the assassination happened, they’d be going to jail. We had to stop it, and clear my name.

  But there was something I had to do first. Something I couldn’t wait any longer for.

  I grabbed Hailey by the waist and dragged her across the seat and into my lap. I pushed her hair back from her face, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, and kissed her.

  61

  Hailey

  THE AIRPORT. The arrest. The interrogation. The rescue. This was the first chance we’d had and I hadn’t realized how much I needed him until I felt his hands on me. As he pulled me onto his lap, I was already stretching up to kiss him, my mouth searching, my hands clutching at his shoulders. Then I felt the hard press of his lips, spreading, demanding, and the pleasure crashed through me, rolling down my body in an electric ripple.

  I gasped, frantic and panting. His hands slid over my back and ass and mine traced the muscles of his arms, feeling their warm strength through his suit. We both had to reassure ourselves that this was real, that we were back together.

  I didn’t know what would happen next. But I knew I wouldn’t let anything separate us again.

  When we finally released each other, I was weak and fluttery. I just wanted to cuddle up to his chest, my head on his pec, and nestle there for a week. Nothing in the world ever felt so good.

  “So what now?” Calahan’s voice broke the silence.

  Shit. My head jerked up and I looked towards the front seat.

  He wasn’t glaring at us angrily. He was staring straight ahead, out of the windshield. That was almost worse, somehow: he couldn’t bear to look. The guilt welled up inside me and I untangled myself from Konstantin. I’d always known there was something, something more than friends,
but he’d always crushed it, as soon as it started. Oh, Calahan….

  “We need to find out who set me up,” said Konstantin. “We have less than an hour.”

  Calahan finally turned around in his seat... and nodded. The tension was still thick between the two of them, but we had to put it aside and focus or we were all going to jail.

  “If you didn’t send those emails, hiring the assassin and arranging everything... who did?”

  “Maybe you were hacked,” said Calahan.

  I shook my head. “It had to have been someone inside the mansion. They told Grigory to get hold of the rifle and deliver it.”

  “I don’t understand. No one can get into my laptop,” said Konstantin. “It’s encrypted, you need my ring to get in.”

  That was true. I knew from experience how hard it was, I’d barely managed it and I’d been sleeping with him. How could anyone else—

  Shit.

  A truck thundered past, rocking our parked car, but I just sat there, staring at the other two without seeing them.

  “What?” asked Calahan.

  I didn’t answer. The suspicion was rolling through me like an oily fog, chilling me as it settled into my bones.

  “What?” demanded Konstantin, gripping my arm.

  I hadn’t ever considered it. I’d spent so much time feeling guilty…. I looked in the rear view mirror, at the reflection of Christina’s face. Oh God….

  I looked at Konstantin. “What if I wasn’t the only one betraying you?” I croaked.

  His brows knitted.

  I turned to Calahan. Everything was reversing in my mind, every assumption we’d made since the very beginning. “Our whole plan was to impersonate Christina,” I said. “We were so busy thinking about me being the imposter, me not getting caught, we just assumed she was innocent. But what if Christina’s behind this whole thing?”

  Calahan and I stared at each other. I’d gotten so used to being Christina, the idea made me feel physically sick, as if I’d done it. I’d thought I’d been impersonating Konstantin’s lover. What if I’d really been impersonating his worst enemy?