by Lea Hart
“Oh. My. God,” Lucky replied as she slapped her hand on the bar. “When are you going to figure out that the little girl I met in kindergarten with the perfect braids and beautiful dress who didn’t speak a word of English doesn’t exist anymore?”
Lifting her shoulder, Stazi gave her friend a smile. “Maybe not on the outside, but on the inside, she’s still there.”
“You are guilty of reverse discrimination. Anytime a man who doesn’t have enough vowels in his last name expresses interest, you dismiss him.”
“I will be sure to get upset about that…never.” Twirling her drink in her hand, she tried to pretend like Lucky’s words didn’t affect her. She knew what she’d said was on point. It just wasn’t time to do anything about it. “Hank wants me to take him on a tour of the public art installations, and said it was my civic duty to erase his art illiteracy.”
“Sounds like him. He’s not going to stop until you go out with him. The man was a SEAL. He doesn’t understand the words give up or give in. When someone says no, he hears maybe.”
Running her hand over her hair, Stazi sighed. “Maybe I should just go, so I can prove that I’m able to go out with a man who’s all-American and have a good time.”
Holding up her glass, Lucky waited for Stazi to lift hers as well. “You love nothing more than proving a point, so I suggest you go out with Hank and show me that you’re not prejudiced.”
Stazi tapped her glass and smiled. “You just want me to go out with him so he won’t give you a hard time.”
Lucky took a sip and then smiled. “That’s part of it, but he’s also a really good guy and I’ve never seen him so interested. Worst case, you have one semi-boring date. Best case, you spend time with a man who by all accounts is sporting a major crush on you.”
Greg stopped by to check on them and they ordered another round and some food. The medianoche sandwich was delicious, so that’s what Stazi ordered, and Lucky decided on the cheeseburger sliders. Once he left, Stazi decided to tell Lucky about the meeting she’d had yesterday and ask for her help. “Can you run a name through your supercomputer?”
“Of course.”
Seeing her friend’s worried expression made her realize how strange the request was. She had never asked her for anything like it in all the years they’d been friends, but what happened yesterday had her nerves fried and she needed help. “I met a man at the gala the other night when I was shilling for support for the Modigliani project, and I want to find out more about him. He’s a billionaire Ukrainian businessman and when he found out I was Russian, he asked me to evaluate some of his paintings.”
“That sounds like a pickup line,” Lucky responded while scrunching her nose.
“He’s in his fifties, and I didn’t get that vibe. I doubt that he’s interested.”
Snorting, Lucky gave her a get real look. “Yeah, because when is an old man ever interested in a beautiful young woman?”
“Okay, that’s not the point of the story,” Stazi replied. “He has a Modigliani and wants it authenticated and evaluated for damage.”
“How many of those artist’s paintings are in the hands of private collectors?”
“I have no idea. There is so much controversy over the original catalogue raisonné that no one is sure how many paintings actually exist.”
“Tell me what that is again.”
“It’s a comprehensive, annotated listing of all the known works of an artist.” She finished her drink, then wiped her mouth. “Modigliani is one of the most faked artists in the world. I could find a painting in an attic tomorrow with a letter signed by the artist and the authenticity would still be questioned.”
“So, tell me what has you spooked.”
“Yesterday I went to Mr. Firtash’s house for the meeting and the house was filled with men who looked like they were straight out of central casting for the Bratva. Big Russian mobsters were guarding the place like it was Fort Knox.”
“Okay, the guy likes henchmen. Not that strange if he’s a billionaire.”
“True, but one of the guys had crown tattoos on his fingers, which means he’s a boss. Someone like that doesn’t pull guard duty, so I figure he has some kind of business with Firtash.”
“When did you learn about Russian criminal tattoos?”
Crossing her legs, she gave her friend a smile. “My parents, of course. When you’re a Jew in Russia, it’s a good idea to know who you’re dealing with. I found it fascinating and did a paper on it in college.”
“So, the oh-so-proper Ukrainian billionaire is keeping company with some men from the Bratva. What else?”
“It’s not the mixing of business and organized crime. That’s practically a given in Russia. People with legitimate business mix with criminals all the time. It was the only way to survive for a long time, and that’s probably even more true now. What has me freaked out is Firtash’s intensity during the meeting. His eyes never left mine for a moment, and he was absolutely insistent that I was the only one he could work with.”
“Which goes back to my original theory—he has the hots for you.”
“Eeew, that’s gross.”
“It’s totally possible. Maybe he likes pretty young things.”
“If that’s the case, he can find someone a lot prettier and more compliant and agreeable than me. His interest seemed strictly professional. Like we were countrymen and I would, of course, work with him and do as he said.”
“What is it that he wants?”
“First, he wants me to authenticate the Modigliani, and then he has several Renoirs that he wants me to look at.”
“You don’t have that kind of power. Maybe he doesn’t realize it.”
“Possible. But not probable. I explained very clearly what I was capable of doing and I laid out what the company I work for does when they go through the process of evaluating a painting for authenticity. I told him in no uncertain terms that I was one small cog in the wheel.”
“So, what do you think he wants from you?”
“Maybe it’s nothing more than having money invested in a painting and not wanting to be made a fool of. What else could it be?”
“I have no idea, but we’re going to find out.”
“I used the bathroom before I left and when I came out into the hall, I heard him speaking to the man with the crown tattoos in Ukrainian.”
“Could you understand what they were saying?” Lucky asked curiously. “I thought the two languages were fairly different.”
Before she could answer, their food and drinks were delivered. Once they had eaten a couple of bites, Stazi answered the question. “First off, most people in Ukraine speak Russian. They were ruled by Moscow for a very long time, so pretty much everybody can read and speak the language perfectly. But to answer your question, the languages are alike. We use almost the same alphabet, a lot of similar words, and very comparable grammar rules. I understood some of what was being said and I think crown guy was telling Firtash he needed to use his plane to transport the merchandise. Whatever that means.” Stazi took another bite of her sandwich and then went on. “Then they got into a heated argument. The snippets I understood seemed to indicate that crown guy has something on Firtash and he expects him to cooperate.”
“Now you have me on the edge of my seat. What happened next?” Lucky asked before she took a bite of her food.
“I walked down the hall, and when I came into view, both men gave me a hard look. Which I assumed was because one or both thought I heard something. I gathered my things as quickly as I could, and as I was saying my goodbyes to Firtash, I heard crown guy instruct one of the thugs to keep an eye on me. They spoke in Russian, so I know I got it right.”
“Holy shit, that is not good at all because they had to have known you would understand what was being said. There’s no subtlety at play, which means this is serious.”
“Yeah, I figured that out already,” Stazi replied with a snort.
“Do you feel like someone is watching you?”
“Yes. I’ve spotted Ivan the Terrible at least four times today.”
“Who the hell is Ivan the Terrible?”
“The man who is keeping an eye on me. I just gave him that name to amuse myself.” Lifting her purse, she flipped it open, dug out a business card, and handed it to Lucky. “The billionaire’s name is Dmitry Firtash.”
“I’ll run his name and put together a dossier. By the time I’m done, we’ll know what kind of soap he uses.”
“I don’t need all of that. Maybe he’s totally legit and just likes to spend time with horrible people. Maybe I’m not being followed and it’s all a coincidence.”
“Let’s just make sure. If this Dmitry guy is keeping company with the Bratva, you should steer clear.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “I just need to know what I’m dealing with.”
“I’ll go in tomorrow and do a preliminary search. Then you can buy me lunch.”
“Thank you, Lucky.”
“I’m your best friend. If you asked me to bury a dead body, I would. This is easy.”
“Well, depending on what you find…who knows what will be required?”
Lucky knocked knuckles with her and gave her a wink. “The last couple of years at SAI have taught me a lot. I’m good to go on whatever you need, including getting some firearms together.”
“That’s exciting but slightly scary.”
“Just think…if you decide that you like Hank, you’ll have your own personal warrior. The man could probably slay dragons, take down Russian mobsters, and kiss you silly without breaking a sweat.”
The way Stazi’s face colored, she knew that Lucky was going to figure out something had happened the other night. When no questions came popping out of her friend’s mouth, she decided not to say anything. They had always shared everything, but for some reason, the sweet little kiss Hank had given her seemed personal. So, for right now, she was going to keep the magic all to herself. “All right, I’ll make plans with Hank.”
Throwing up her hands, Lucky said a loud hallelujah. “I have a good feeling about this, despite the fact you two have nothing in common, come from completely different backgrounds, and probably voted for different people in the last presidential election. There is something that sparked between you two and I, for one, would like to see what it is.”
“Glad I can provide cheap entertainment.”
“It’s what friends are for,” Lucky responded as she motioned for another round.
Thinking about Hank made Stazi smile despite her reservations. He was a beast of a handsome man and perhaps it was time to get over her prejudice. Lucky certainly seemed to think so and in the twenty-five years that they had been friends, she had never steered her wrong. With the exception of that awful haircut she’d suggested junior year. Other than that, her instincts were always right on.
Seemed she was going to go out with a man who made her nervous and uncomfortable—how bad could it be? Shaking her head, she decided not to make a list of the first twenty things that came to her mind.
Who knew…maybe she was going to be pleasantly surprised.
CHAPTER FIVE
Saturday, May 27
Hank and the team walked into the SAI offices and everyone moved toward the equipment room at the back of the building so they could get rid of their vests. They had helped CPD with the Memorial Day Parade and had acted as the security detail for the parade’s grand marshal. Lieutenant General Robert Walsh was a fellow alumnus of the Naval Academy, and Hank had been happy to offer up the company’s services for the city’s event.
The mayor had expected huge crowds because the parade was held on Saturday as opposed to Monday, and he had been correct. There were record numbers of people in attendance and the city needed as many hands on deck as possible. Being a part of the event not only helped the city, it also gave him and his team a chance to give back. Which was a great way to spend the holiday because it reminded them all to celebrate the life they had.
Memorial Day was both special and contemplative for those who made it home. It would be impossible not to reflect on battles fought, enemies vanquished, and whether the sacrifices fellow teammates had made were worth it. He could definitely say they were because not to would be cancerous.
The advice of a former commander always came to mind when the holiday approached and Hank had taken it to heart. He’d said that if you really want to give thanks to those who fell, then do so by living well. Don’t waste time and not pursue all the opportunities that exist. Love your life and, if you don’t, change it because you have a choice. Honor those who fell by celebrating what they believed in and what the sacrifice was really about. Hank always believe that war wasn’t about hate…it’s about love. Love of country, teammate, and family.
He’d lost many brothers on the battlefield and there was a part of every man he’d fought beside that he carried around in his heart and mind. All the men he’d walked into battle with had eventually become part of his DNA. So, this weekend was a celebration of those lives and he tried his best to remember that every year.
Which was why he was having everyone over for a feast later tonight. As the men stripped themselves of their gear, Hank called out, “Don’t forget dinner is at six tonight. I expect to see every one of your ugly mugs.”
“Looking forward to it,” Maddox replied. “I plan on eating you out of house and home and then taking all your money in the poker game.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” Hank responded. Turning to Justin, he raised an eyebrow. “We still on for a swim over at North Avenue Beach?”
“Yeah, we haven’t missed it for a while and I don’t want to break our streak.”
Hank looked over at Brandon and Maddox and waited. “Any chance you guys want to join us?”
Brandon snorted and responded, “I was a damn Ranger. I like to leave those ten-mile swims to you frogs.”
“I’ll come,” Maddox answered. “Got to stay combat-ready. For all I know, we’ll get an assignment next week that will have me swimming through Calumet Harbor at night.”
“We have a bunch of clients over at the port, so I wouldn’t rule that out,” Hank said before he took off his tactical gear. The warehouse that housed the SAI offices was big enough that he’d installed a video system so that everyone could keep track of one another. As he looked up at the monitor on the wall, he noticed Lucky was working in her office. Which wasn’t all that unusual, but he couldn’t think what would bring her in today. Most of their assignments were past the point of needing her to spend extra time, especially on a holiday weekend. Maybe one of the other offices had called with an emergency.
After he got cleaned up, he’d go check and see what was up. Walking into the shower room, he thought about whether he could invite Stazi out again without coming off as a total asshole. She had given him a non-answer the other day and, as far as he knew, they were in limbo.
Which was not a place he accepted.
But if he pressed her, she might balk and decide she wanted nothing to do with him—despite the freaking amazing kiss they’d had when he dropped her off after the gala. It was the hottest, sweetest kiss of his life, and all he wanted was a chance to do it again. Scraping his hand down his face, he stepped into the shower and decided he would wait until tomorrow to issue another invitation. Maybe if he showed her he could be patient, then she would decide he was worth spending time with.
***
Hank stood in the doorway of Lucky’s office and knew there were few places in the world that could rival the setup they had created. When Lucky had breached one of his client’s systems, he knew that having her join the team was his only choice. At the time, she had been a gun for hire who tested companies’ security systems, allowing them the opportunity to discover how secure their systems were or weren’t. Turned out nine times out of ten she could breach any security measures the company had in place. That’s when he knew hiring one of the best hackers in the world was going to be one
of his smartest decisions.
The moment he offered her a place on the team and carte blanche to run things as she saw fit, she had agreed to come aboard. SAI had benefitted immensely and she was now responsible for all the information gathering needs for the company. It had taken her almost a year to put together a team she was happy with and she now had twenty-five people unmatched in their skill sets.
Moving toward the table that sat in the center of the space, he noticed that Lucky’s fingers were flying and wondered what she was working on. “Lucky, what has you chained to your keyboard on this beautiful day?”
When she looked up, he saw an expression that he didn’t care for. The intensity in her gaze wasn’t all that unusual because she often looked that way when hunting something or someone down. But the fear in her eyes had the hair on the back of his neck standing up. “What the hell is it?”
“Holy shitstorm,” she replied as she flicked her fingers across the screen embedded in the table. A picture flew up on the main screen and joined several items. “Dmitry Firtash,” she replied quietly.
Moving closer to the multiple screens that were mounted on the wall, he studied the face of the man who had Lucky out of sorts. He was middle-aged and wore what appeared to be a ten-thousand-dollar custom Brioni Suit. Certainly not anyone who should have Lucky concerned. Scanning the documents on the next screen, he saw they were bank records that indicated a wealth few could imagine. News articles filled another screen and before he took the time to read them, he turned to Lucky. “Why do we care about this guy and should I call the team in to hear this?”
“No. Not yet.” She tightened her ponytail and let out a huge sigh. “This man is seriously bad news and he’s going to be damn hard to stop.”
“Start the fuck from the beginning,” he ground out.
“Stazi asked me…”
He held up his hands and felt heat suffuse his body. Thousands of hours on the battlefield had not prepared him for hearing Stazi’s name in conjunction with something that had Lucky on five-alarm alert. “Do I need to secure her?” he asked quietly.
