The Prince's Gamble

by Caridad Piñeiro

They were all screwed.

  …

  Alexander tightened his grip on the leather steering wheel of the Bentley convertible. He had raised the hardtop in deference to Kathleen’s concerns, but had refused to take the Escalade as she had wished. He feared Petrov’s contacts might view the larger vehicle as a threat.

  There would be little possibility of hiding anyone in the smaller, sportier automobile, and that might provide the reassurance needed to avoid an immediate confrontation.

  He turned off the avenue onto the road that ran down to Bader Airfield toward the location for the meet. Large, empty parking lots and the adjacent Ventnor City Wetlands surrounded the two dilapidated buildings. While the frontage was well-lit by streetlights, only a few oddly-spaced bulbs provided dim light along the sides and back of the buildings.

  “I’m here.” He hoped Kathleen and her team could hear him with their roving bug.

  “We’ve got your transmission. We can see through the rear windows of the van that there is someone in the back in addition to the driver. Maybe more than one,” she informed him through the earpiece he wore.

  He slowed the car and peered into the darkness. A white panel van was parked about thirty feet away, close to the gated delivery entrance of the building.

  At least two against one. Maybe more against him. The odds weren’t in his favor, but he hoped the risk would pay off.

  Driving to within fifteen feet of the van, he stopped the car but left his headlights on, trained on the other vehicle.

  “Good job, Prince Alexander. We’ve got a clear view thanks to the lights,” ADIC Roberts chimed in through the earpiece.

  Alexander braced himself with a measured breath, pocketed the hacked cell phone and grabbed hold of the briefcase. He opened his door and rose from the low slung car, but stayed behind the protection of the steel-armored door.

  As if in slow motion, the van’s driver side door opened. A second later, the back doors flew open.

  The man the FBI had identified as Stravinski hopped down from the driver’s seat just as two men came around the rear, holding a struggling, hooded person between them.

  Had they brought Vanessa? Except—

  He froze in horror.

  He didn’t need them to remove the hood to know who it was. He recognized the diamond tennis bracelet he had bought for her eighteenth birthday.

  “Tatiana,” he said on a strangled breath, loud enough for the men to hear. Loud enough for Kathleen and her colleagues to hear as well.

  A cunning smile spread across Stravinski’s face.

  Fear sank its talons into Alexander and his knees grew weak. A chill sweat erupted across his body as terrible memories pummeled him. He became, for that briefest moment, the scared little seven-year-old who had been kidnapped. But only for a moment as he shoved aside the nightmare from his childhood and steeled himself to fight for what he loved. To the death, if need be.

  “Easy, Sasha. It’s going to be all right,” Kathleen soothed across the air waves to help bolster his courage.

  “I’m disappointed. You’ve spoiled our little surprise.” With a negligent flip of his tattooed hand, Stravinski directed his men to rip off the hood.

  Tatiana was gagged and disoriented for a moment. But as she spied him, her struggles increased. Her actions were futile. The two men holding her capably between them were large, powerful, and armed with automatic weapons.

  “What’s the meaning of this? Why do you have my sister?” Alexander demanded.

  “Insurance.”

  “I thought we had a deal,” Alexander spat out, deadly calm injected into his voice by the sheer force of his will.

  “We do. I just like to make sure all my bets are covered.” Stravinski held out his hand, palm up, and wiggled his fingers in invitation. “You have something that’s mine.”

  “We need to move in, Sasha. Try to get Tatiana clear of the van,” Kathleen warned.

  With a determined breath, Alexander stepped away from his car, the briefcase in his hand. To buy some time for the FBI to get in place, he raised the bag slowly to show it to Stravinski and said, “Not before I get my sister.”

  “Don’t you trust me, Sasha?” The taunting tones in the other man’s voice were impossible to ignore. Alexander bristled at the bastard’s use of his nickname.

  “Let her go. Then you and I can discuss our business arrangement. Tatiana has nothing to do with this.”

  Tatiana protested his offer, wrestling between the two men with renewed efforts, but he tried to calm her.

  “It’ll be fine, Tatochka. Trust me.”

  Stravinski laughed out loud and clapped his hands together as if to compliment Alexander’s performance. “Trust him, Tatochka,” he mimicked, clearly amused.

  “We’re in place, Sasha. Stay put,” Kathleen said, but Alexander couldn’t just stand there with his sister at risk. He stepped toward Stravinski, still holding the briefcase in plain sight. He jostled it to draw their attention and succeeded. With a barely perceptible wiggle of his wrist, he let the pen-sized mace spray Jim had provided slip down into his palm.

  With careful deliberation, he said, “The cash for my sister. My trust for yours. Then we can talk about how our future business will work.”

  A cackle erupted from deep in Stravinski’s throat. “You still want to do business together?”

  “I need the money. You need a partner. Just one rule: My family is off limits.”

  A change crept over Stravinski then. One which Alexander didn’t particularly like. The man straightened his shoulders and pulled them back with deadly assurance. Without a glance in the direction of his men, he snapped his fingers. One man moved forward with Tatiana. Thankfully, his sister seemed to understand she had to remain composed to avoid an escalation in the situation.

  She stood there peacefully, her gaze locked with his, seeking both reassurance and instruction.

  “Hand over the briefcase,” Stravinksi commanded, but over the earpiece, Kathleen warned, “You need to get Tatiana closer to you and away from them.”

  He knew, but Tatiana was still a good ten feet away from him. Only one thing came to mind.

  “You want the money? Here it is.”

  He tossed the briefcase into the air with a high arc and rushed forward for his sister just as Stravinski’s man yanked her back. A quick spray of mace in the man’s face made him roar with pain and stumble away, releasing Tatiana.

  Alexander snatched his sister free and shoved her behind him just as Kathleen shouted, “Move in!”

  …

  “Go! Go! Go!” Kathleen yelled, her heart pounding in her chest.

  Lights flared to life as the FBI Agents rushed from the wetlands onto the parking lot behind the building.

  Alexander shoved his sister toward the protection of the Bentley just as Stravinski and his men grabbed their weapons and opened fire.

  They didn’t have a chance. They were fully exposed and outgunned.

  Her first shot hit Stravinski high in the shoulder, driving him back from Alexander and his sister. But not before he got a shot off in their direction.

  Icy cold fear spread through her, but she kept her head, taking down Stravinski with a second shot. She moved forward with the other agents as they contained the other criminals in a hail of gunfire. The acrid smell of gunpowder and metallic smell of blood was strong in the night air. Kathleen grimaced against the odors as her team swarmed forward to finish disarming and restraining the wounded men.

  Her boss stood over Stravinski, taking his pulse while Kathleen hurried in the direction of Alexander and his sister.

  “He’s still alive,” Roberts called out as the other agents reported on the condition of Stravinski’s two men. One dead and one alive. Barely.

  As she rounded the front of the Bentley, Alexander was on his feet before his sister. But then he looked at his side and drew away his jacket. He stared uncomprehendingly at a blotch of blood which grew steadily as he stood there, wavering slightly. I
n slow motion, he slid down the side of the car and collapsed at Tatiana’s feet.

  “Sasha!” Kathleen raced over as Tatiana ripped off her gag on a cry, and cradled her brother in her arms.

  “We need three ambulances, stat,” she instructed their backup unit, and kneeled beside Alexander.

  “I’m okay,” he said, but too weakly. His chest heaved in stutters as he struggled for breath. Kathleen shoved away his jacket to examine the bullet hole in his right side. Blood oozed freely from the entry wound.

  Alexander tried to speak, but instead coughed up blood. Bright crimson stained his lips.

  Tatiana shot her a panicked glance, and although she was just as scared, Kathleen knew they had to remain calm for Alexander’s sake.

  “Stay still, Sasha.” She placed her hand over his side and applied pressure, trying to stem the flow of blood. “You’re going to be okay,” she said, striving to reassure him even as his blood leaked out between her fingers and his breathing grew more labored with each passing moment.

  Tears glistening on her cheeks, Tatiana brushed her fingers across his hair and temples, likewise trying to comfort. “Just hold on, Sasha. Help is on the way.”

  The screaming sound of sirens approached quickly while she and Tatiana stayed by his side. The first ambulance screeched around the corner and the EMTs jumped out and rushed over to assist.

  Kathleen reluctantly stepped away and wiped her hands on her jacket, but the smell and stickiness of his blood lingered. She walked to Tatiana, whose face was pale, her gaze wide with concern. Hugging the young woman, she offered comfort despite her own fears. “He’s going to be all right.”

  “He did it to protect me,” Tatiana murmured, arms wrapped tight around her, too.

  “He loves you,” she offered, understanding now, more than ever, just how deep Alexander’s love ran.

  Tatiana looked at her. “He loves you, too. I saw it at dinner that night, although maybe he didn’t want to admit it yet. He loves you.”

  Kathleen hugged Tatiana hard. “And I love him.”

  The paramedics hauled Alexander onto a gurney and sped with him to the ambulance. As they were lifting the gurney into the back, Tatiana said, “I want to go with him.”

  The EMTs glanced at them uneasily. “We only have room for one.”

  Kathleen nodded and tenderly patted Tatiana’s back. “Go. I’ll follow and meet you at the hospital.”

  With a quick, intense hug, Tatiana dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.” She hopped into the back of the ambulance and the EMTs shut the doors. The ambulance raced away, sirens howling in the dark of night.

  Kathleen hurried over to her boss who was overseeing their prisoners as they were prepped for transport to the hospital and morgue. When she stood before him, he inclined his head in the direction of Stravinski’s wounded man. “We got an address from that one for Petrov’s warehouse. Our men are moving in right now.”

  “Let’s hope they don’t meet much resistance.” She scrubbed her hands against her jacket again and peered nervously at the distant lights of the ambulance that had taken Alexander away.

  “He did well. You did, too,” her boss said.

  Despite his words, there would be no sense of satisfaction until she knew Alexander was fine. “If you have the situation under control—”

  “I do,” her ADIC said with an understanding look.

  “I’d like permission to go to the hospital.”

  Her ADIC dug into his pocket and handed her the keys to their car.

  “Get out of here.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Kathleen sat beside Tatiana, her arm wrapped around the young woman’s shoulders as she huddled in the hard plastic hospital chair. Tatiana was a bundle of nerves, but then again, so was she.

  They had taken Alexander into surgery just over an hour ago after the emergency room doctor had come in to provide his initial report. Splintered rib. Partially collapsed lung. Bullet lodged against the back portion of his rib cage.

  Although the physician had been guardedly optimistic about the prognosis, Kathleen understood all too well that once surgery was involved, anything could go wrong.

  The one bright spot in the last hour had been her ADIC’s report that their FBI team had successfully located the slave traffickers’ warehouse. Vanessa, along with a number of other terrified, drugged women had been found in the building. Initial interviews had revealed that they were supposed to have been moved out of the country in just a few days.

  At the warehouse, the FBI team had captured four of Petrov’s Russian mob associates, hopefully bringing an end to the slave trading in the area as well as Stravinski’s illegal activities. For now, anyway.

  Despite that good news, Alexander’s surgery weighed heavily on her mind. With each too loud tick of the wall clock, her anxiety intensified, but Kathleen wrestled it down. She needed to be strong for both Alexander and Tatiana.

  The two women were sitting there, offering silent comfort to each other, when a slight commotion occurred at the entrance to the surgical waiting room. A protective instinct roared alive in Kathleen. She jumped in front of Tatiana, but relaxed as Detective Roman and Jim barreled through the door, a young woman right behind them. A very familiar-looking young woman.

  “Vanessa!” Tatiana cried, and rushed forward to hug her friend.

  The two men hurried to Kathleen’s side, their worry evident.

  “How is he?” Peter asked.

  “No word yet.” That fact sat heavily in her heart. Not even the joy of the two women embracing just a few feet away could drive away her anxiety.

  Jim grimaced, but wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the gesture a trifle stilted. “He’ll be okay.”

  She nodded and waited as Tatiana brought over Vanessa and introduced her. The young hostess clutched Kathleen’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. Thank you for looking for me. I don’t want to think of what might have happened…” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “No thanks are necessary. It’s my job.” It sounded a little harsh to her own ears, so she added, “I’m glad you’re safe. We’re all glad.”

  Suddenly, Vanessa glanced past her shoulder, her glistening eyes alive with emotion, and Kathleen tracked her gaze.

  The surgeon hurried toward them, blue scrubs clean and a broad smile on her face. Kathleen’s knees weakened with relief this time and she pressed a fist into her midsection to quiet the racing of her heart.

  “How is the prince?” Jim asked, and once again hugged her to his side, slightly more easily, as if he was getting used to the act.

  “He came through the surgery with no problems. He’s in post-op now, but we’ll be moving him to a private room shortly. You’ll be able to see him in about half-an-hour.”

  A relieved breath exploded from her. “Thank you.”

  “Wait here for now. I’ll have a nurse get you when he’s settled in his room.”

  As the surgeon walked away, Kathleen faced the other two women. “I guess we wait, but in the meantime, I have some questions, Vanessa. If that’s okay?”

  Vanessa nodded and they walked back to the hard plastic chairs and sat. Peter took a spot beside Tatiana and to Kathleen’s surprise, she leaned into him and slipped her hand into his. The gesture was both familiar and loving, and she wondered at it. She suspected Tatiana had known Peter for as long as Alexander had, but wondered if there was more to their friendship…and if so, where Kevin, her boyfriend, fit into the picture. But judging from the almost instinctive nature of the action, maybe Tatiana wasn’t even aware of her feelings.

  Her gaze skipped to Peter’s for only a moment, but long enough to see the love there before he shuttered away his emotions. It wasn’t just friend kind of love on his part. Again she wondered at the nature of their relationship. Not that it was impossible to see them together. Peter and Tatiana were fairly close in age, barely six years apart.

  Kathleen pushed aside that revelation, and assumed her agent mode. She nee
ded answers, although she suspected her team had already asked many of the questions earlier. Still, she had to have the answers for herself, and the exercise would keep her calm until she saw for herself that Alexander was safe and well.

  “How did you recognize Stravinksi when he came to the restaurant?”

  Vanessa glanced at Tatiana anxiously. “I told Tatiana a while back that I’d been in trouble as a teen.”

  “She mentioned that to us. She was certain you had nothing to do with what was going on in the casino.”

  Vanessa smiled. “I appreciate the support, Tatiana. I guess it’s time you knew what I did.”

  “We’re friends. I won’t judge you. None of us will,” Tatiana replied. She looked at Kathleen, Peter, and Jim, steely command in her gaze. She’d learned well from Alexander.

  Vanessa dipped her head. “I was arrested for possession with intent to sell. I only sold to some friends, and the police knew I was a very small fish. In exchange for providing information about my supplier, I got a plea bargain.”

  “Stravinski was your supplier,” Kathleen said to confirm she was understanding correctly.

  “Yes. In Camden. It’s why we moved here afterward. I was hoping I’d never see him again.”

  But Stravinski had expanded his business to Atlantic City. That had started a whole chain of events which just happened to be connected to human trafficking, and the money laundering Alexander had uncovered.

  Kathleen was about to ask more questions when a petite nurse approached them. She bowed slightly to Tatiana, as if unsure of how to deal with royalty. “The prince is in his room. He’s conscious if you’d like to see him.”

  They all rushed to their feet, but the nurse raised her hand. “Only two visitors at a time.”

  Jim, Peter, and Vanessa stepped back. “You two go ahead,” Peter said. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. I have some questions of my own for Vanessa.”

  Tatiana slipped her hand into Kathleen’s and squeezed reassuringly. “Let’s go see our guy.”

  …

  Alexander was sitting up slightly, thanks to the angle of the hospital bed. Kathleen skimmed her gaze over him anxiously, half dreading what she’d see. She breathed a sigh of partial relief. He wasn’t dying. Healthy color was evident along his skin, though it only made the glaring white of the bandages along his midsection that much more evident. And troubling.