Evil Without a Face sj-1

by Jordan Dane

  And she prayed Nikki’s good luck had rubbed off on them.

  Out of the shadows, Stas Petrovin emerged from the escape tunnel in time to see his men fly away in both helicopters, leaving him alone to face the enemy…and his fate. He glanced at his watch. They had waited nearly forty minutes, well beyond the time he had warned that he would have left them.

  What more could he have asked of them? What more indeed.

  He shut his eyes and took a deep breath of the cool night air and looked up into the heavens. This place reminded him of Siberia, and he had mixed emotions about that. Casting a bluish haze over the foothills, a full moon shone above him. The sight of it should have made him feel small and insignificant, but nothing could be further from the truth.

  He felt powerful and in absolute control.

  In his hand, he had the means to bring down the underground facility and implode it under the feet of his enemy, perhaps taking the lives of many with the blast. If he did his duty, Bukolov would be protected once more. Yet for the first time, he sensed he had a choice.

  Perhaps that was why he felt in control. He stood on a precipice of change and he knew it.

  He contemplated his actions, then made his decision, reveling in the fact that the call was his alone to make. Without further thought, he initiated the detonation, knowing he had a time delay for his escape. But instead of thinking of his own safety, he pushed the envelope and chose to stay, standing in the glow of the moon. After all, it was a night for indulgence, and he had the heart of a poet beating in his chest.

  Of this, he was certain.

  After leaving the elevator, they barely had enough time to clear the collapsed wall when Alexa felt a familiar rumble under her feet. Self-preservation sent a second surge of adrenaline through her brain.

  “Oh shit, not again.”

  They raced for the way out, but with the first impact, the ground swelled under her, then dropped out. The quake nearly knocked her down as she ran. She saw one of the troopers hit the dirt, but the man scrambled to his feet, hardly missing a step. And, good man, he never dropped his weapon. The older girls ran one step ahead, their age giving them an advantage. And her men kept the kids out of harm’s way like a team of bodyguards or a strong defensive line in the NFL.

  “Pedal to the metal, people. This place is gonna blow,” she yelled, keeping her legs pumping. Her lungs heaved and her thighs were on fire from exertion.

  Dust and debris fell from over their heads as they ran. The whole mountain could come down on their ears any minute. She took a quick glance back and saw that Jessica hadn’t let go of Nikki’s hand and Payton had the other. In his left arm the quarterback carried a little blond girl who had his neck in a fierce grip. He didn’t look like he minded the extra burden. She couldn’t blame Jess and Payton for not wanting to let go of Nikki and the smallest girl. The four weren’t making the best progress as they ran, but some things were worth the risk.

  A hot vaporous cloud of gases and dirt swept by them as they finally made it outside. Alexa remembered how it felt to barely escape the carnage in Chicago.

  “Keep moving. Don’t stop.” And under her breath, more to herself, she added, “And whatever you do, don’t look back.”

  A wall of fire belched from what remained of the cinder-block structure they had used to enter the old radar station. She felt the heat crawl up her back as if she’d caught fire. Eventually, cool night air touched the inflamed skin of her face, and she knew she’d beaten the blast once again. When she got free, she did a quick head count and was relieved everyone had made it through, until she saw Jessica ranting up ahead.

  Alexa’s hearing had been hampered by the siege at Providenija, where they’d captured Anton Bukolov earlier, the aging captain at the helm of Globe Harvest. But as she neared the bounty hunter, she heard what the woman was complaining about. In the distance, the sound of helicopters brought back a feeling of déjà vu.

  Only this time Alexa knew things would be different.

  “That bastard got away again. Damn it!” Jessica cursed, and flung her arms out in sheer rage, stomping her foot. “We were so close.”

  Although the bounty hunter’s words sounded muffled, she heard enough to approach the woman with details she’d been waiting to share. She raised her voice, unsure how loud she sounded, and told Jessica the good news.

  “I learned my lesson in Chicago. When we first touched down here, I had one of my men search the perimeter, knowing how the Russian and Globe Harvest liked a back-door escape plan.” She forced a smile, though she ached all over.

  “And?” By the smirk on the bounty hunter’s face, she knew what was coming.

  “We’ve got tracking beacons on those birds. He and his men won’t get far this time.”

  With that news, Jessica grinned and turned to listen as the helicopters flew south. Once again Alexa saw Petrovin and his men were airborne without lights, but even in the distance the rotor noise was unmistakable. They were making their escape, only now she couldn’t help but match Jessica’s grin.

  Until the night sky lit up like the Fourth of July.

  “What the hell?” They both cried out in unison.

  Two huge explosions erupted in the distance like a super-nova up close. Alexa could have sworn she felt the force of the blast from where she stood. Out of reflex, Jessica grabbed her arm, but kept her eyes fixed to the sky. Her mouth gaped open until she finally spoke.

  “Oh…my…God,” she muttered under her breath. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

  “You may not believe me, but no, I didn’t.” Alexa hated thinking about what had happened to the men onboard. No one deserved to die like that…except for Petrovin.

  Jessica never took her eyes off the fireballs that pierced the night. The unexpected explosions shredded both fuselages. The airborne wreckage fell to the earth like heavy globs of molten steel, and where each piece landed, the ground caught fire. The inferno would rage for a while, but Alexa thanked the heavens that this part of the island had few inhabitants. As it was, the residents here would not soon forget the Globe Harvest facility explosion and the helicopters that had been blown out of the night sky…and neither would she.

  Alexa stood alongside the bounty hunter, staring into the bright light on the horizon. Eventually, she felt the presence of the others, her team, the troopers, the girls, and Payton Archer, but none of them said a word. After a long moment, Alexa wasn’t sure what to say to Jessica, except that the woman had been through hell and needed to hear something good.

  “It’s over, Jessie. This time…it’s over.”

  The bounty hunter looked at her for a brief moment with tears welling in her eyes, only nodding in agreement before she turned away.

  But even as Alexa had said those words, she wasn’t sure she believed them. Helicopters don’t just fall from the sky without help. And it might take weeks to uncover what happened, too late to do anything about it. Any trail would be ice cold.

  Once the shock and the numbing realization that they’d almost died had worn off, each of them would grasp that they had no idea if anyone was left behind. Nikki had done her best to save the girls she had found, but were there others?

  Only time would tell…and an army of cadaver dogs.

  But she knew that wasn’t what Jessica needed to hear. The bad news would follow soon enough. No, the woman needed to feel her ordeal was over. They all did.

  Away from the compound, and in the quiet of a darkened clearing of evergreens, a lone figure crept toward an Alaskan State Trooper helicopter, taking great pains not to be seen. In the confusion of the massive explosion and the aftermath of the sabotaged choppers, it would not be difficult to steal the aircraft from under the nose of the American law enforcement officers.

  The man had not anticipated such a random convenience, but he was not above taking advantage of low hanging fruit. In no time he had hot-wired the aircraft to start, a skill acquired from a misspent youth. Once the helicopter lifted
into the air, he felt freer than he’d ever been. Years had gone by since his military training, but flying an aircraft such as this was like riding a bicycle, as the Americans said—a proficiency for which he would forever be grateful. Now he’d let the stars and his instincts guide him wherever he wanted to go.

  Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, he felt the significance of his newfound opportunity to reinvent himself. He knew how to disappear. And by doing so, he would eliminate the need for looking over his shoulder if the great Anton Bukolov got the urge to look for him.

  For all anyone would know, Stanislav Petrovin had died on St. Lawrence Island, Alaska.

  And by the time the Americans had concluded their investigation of the explosion and the helicopter crash—and sifted through the remains of those who had died—the actual truth might still not be discovered for some time…if ever. Who could say? The name Petrovin might even become legend. He liked the sound of that.

  But he knew that the euphoria of his escape would not last long. Eventually, what had happened in Chicago and on St. Lawrence Island would eat at him—personally—until he could no longer bear to remain dead.

  Perhaps if revenge was a dish best served cold, Stas Petrovin could learn to be a patient man—and bide his time.

  CHAPTER 32

  Talkeetna, Alaska

  Three days later

  Susannah had gotten up early that morning to make blueberry pancakes from scratch, Nikki’s first choice for breakfast. The house smelled of coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice, honey-smoked bacon, and a buttery maple syrup courtesy of the Roadhouse Inn in Talkeetna. After getting Payton’s call that he was bringing Nikki home, Susannah had rushed to clean the house and fill her refrigerator with all her daughter’s favorite foods, then anxiously waited to see her sweet face.

  The longest wait of her life.

  She knew it would be an uphill battle for Nikki to reclaim her life. The same could be said for her too, but the little girl who had run away from home was not the same young woman Payton brought back. She saw it in her daughter’s eyes. An underlying sadness remained and might never go away, but Nikki also had a newfound strength that Susannah hoped would stay. And like a good batch of pancakes, she felt like they were starting over…from scratch.

  “Nikki, breakfast is almost ready,” she yelled loud enough for her daughter to hear upstairs. Calling the girl’s name, even doing the simplest daily chores for her, had become a blessing she never wanted to take for granted.

  But she also knew they’d have their bad days too.

  Every night since she’d come home, her daughter had horrible nightmares. But when she woke up crying, she had been there to hold her. Nikki had taken to sleeping in her bed, an arrangement a mother could get used to. She’d become addicted to the natural smell of her daughter’s skin and the sweet scent of her hair after a shower. And another memory lingered in her mind as she set the table.

  On that first night after Nikki was home, Payton stayed over. He was too big for all three of them to fit in one bed, so they slept on the floor in the living room. Her brother never asked to sleep over. It was something they all wanted, and it just happened. She hated the reason that they needed the comfort that night, but she would always treasure the memory when they’d been reunited as a family.

  So far, Nikki hadn’t wanted to talk to her friends or see anyone else since coming home, but maybe later that day it would change. After her painstaking cruise through a living hell, life had certainly gotten simpler, and Susannah didn’t mind that at all.

  “Nikki? I’m makin’ pancakes. Your favorite.” She listened for the sound of her daughter’s footsteps upstairs, but hadn’t heard movement in a while.

  She set the pancakes to warm in the oven and went searching for Nikki. She looked in her bedroom, the one they’d been sharing, but her daughter wasn’t there, and the upstairs bathroom was empty. She tried Nikki’s bedroom and didn’t see her there either. For a moment she felt a rush of panic, a mother’s reaction she found hard to contain.

  “Nikki?” Her voice cracked and she slumped on her daughter’s bed, listening to the quiet of the house. That’s when she heard it. She walked to the girl’s closet and found her kneeling on the carpet, crying.

  “Oh, honey.” Susannah dropped to her knees and held Nikki close. “I’m here. You’re okay.”

  “One thing I remembered was the smell of my closet.” She sobbed, her voice sounding fragile and small. “And I remembered the sound of your footsteps outside my door. It’s good to be home, Mama…with you.”

  Susannah held her daughter tight, kneeling on the floor of Nikki’s closet. Payton had come through on his promise that she’d get her second chance. Now it was her turn to make good. And from here forward—for Nikki’s sake—she’d take it one day at a time.

  Jess lay in Payton’s bed, listening to the soothing sound of his breathing as he slept. She kept her eyes closed, content to let the morning’s peace wash over her. With the quiet patter of rain on the rooftop of his cabin, nothing could have been more perfect. She smiled and nuzzled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his bare skin next to hers.

  For the first time in years she’d slept through the night. And considering what they’d just been through, that was a major miracle.

  But when her mind and body clock wouldn’t let her rest anymore, she got up, wrapped a blanket around her naked body, and shuffled off to his bathroom to take care of business, bleary-eyed. The cabin was still dark, with only slivers of light coming through the windows. She could have gone back to bed, but changed her mind and walked outside in all her glory. In another life she would have dressed in the dark and slipped out of his life, but not today. Today, she had to drink in the seclusion of Payton’s wooded acreage.

  And being alone to do it seemed important.

  She stepped onto his front porch, with the blanket around her, to watch the rain drip off his roof and turn the dense treeline and shrubs into a deep slick green. In the distance she heard the steady rush of a river on the crisp morning air, a gentle hush she could get accustomed to. And the smell of the damp earth nourished her soul. Alaska was the best-kept secret on the planet.

  Yet despite the mood-altering scenery, she had other things on her mind. Staying with Payton for a few days had been chicken soup for her heart, but at some point she knew she’d have to face reality. Not everything had turned out well.

  The Alaska State Trooper chopper had gone missing. Jess tried hard not to let her imagination run wild, but she wondered if the Russian had somehow survived. Anyone from Globe Harvest could have taken the helicopter to escape the island, but her fatalistic nature was hard to deny.

  And the Russian was impossible to forget.

  The other day, Alexa had called to say that the report her alliance used to derive the coordinates looked like a black-market summary of “transactions,” bartering in human life on all levels. When they compared notes, and Jess told her what Seth had uncovered on the Globe Harvest Web site and the secret entry code to access it, Alexa said she’d take the information and put it to good use. Because the online system was set up across international jurisdictions, it would be difficult for traditional law enforcement to catch them. Although Alexa’s organization was anything but traditional, Jess wasn’t sure she felt comfortable with powerful vigilantes operating on an international level with no one to answer to—judge, jury, and executioner all wrapped in one covert well-funded alliance.

  Except for the heartache of leaving Payton behind in Alaska—his family would need him now more than ever—Jess couldn’t wait to get back to her life in Chicago.

  After the ordeal on St. Lawrence Island, she’d called Sam just to hear her childhood friend’s voice. She downplayed the incident on the island so the woman wouldn’t worry, saving the details for when they would talk face-to-face, but Sam had good news of her own to share. She told Jess that no bodies were found in the rubble of the textile factory outside Chicago. No one had died ther
e; that wouldn’t be the case on the island.

  But when Sam launched into her second tidbit of good tidings, she asked Jess to contact Detective Ray Garza when she got back to town. And that smacked of trouble.

  Before her friend explained, Jess groused, “What the hell kind of good news is that? The man wants to book me a one-way stay at the gray bar hotel, doing life with no chance of parole.”

  She heard the smile in Sam’s voice when she replied, “He only wants to wrap up your part in his investigation into the death of Lucas Baker. The good news is that you’re no longer a suspect.”

  “Generous of him. Did Seth come through on my alibi? How hard did you have to sweet-talk Garza before he gave in?” Before Sam answered her questions, Jess teased, “As I recall, Detective Ray was more than a little easy on the eyes, girlfriend. You should get you some of that.”

  “Ray? What are you talking about? You’re crazy. I work with the man, for cryin’ out loud.”

  Sam had leapt to her protest far too fast. Jess knew she had hit the bull’s-eye on the attraction her friend had for the ruthless detective with the sexy eyes.

  “Speaking of Seth,” Sam changed the subject deftly, “I went to check on him, like you asked.”

  Harper hadn’t answered his cell phone for the last several days. At first Jess took it in stride. She’d gotten used to the guy’s mysterious ways. But finally his disappearing act got to her. She asked Sam to check on him at the Peninsula Hotel.

  “Did he freak when a cop showed up at his hotel door?” She joked, but her heart wasn’t in it. Jess wanted to hear Harper’s voice. But most of all, she wanted to thank him for his part in bringing Nikki home. None of this would have happened without him. None of it.

  Sad-eyed Seth Harper had been the real hero.

  “He wasn’t at the hotel, Jess. And get this—no one there had ever heard of him. And when I described him and told them which suite he’d been staying, they said that room hadn’t been booked in the last two weeks. What do you make of that?” Sam asked.