Sex, Lies & Lace (Sex and Lies Book 4)

by Kris Calvert

  “Tell me where you are, Reagan. I’m in the building,” I whispered as I rushed closer to the factory assembly line, worried I was going in the wrong direction.

  “There’s nothing to say, Rodya. Who’s surprised now? I know who you are,” said Reagan.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  Red’s voice was resounding and I knew he was in Reagan’s face. My pulse quickened and panic crept into my mind. For the first time I realized I might not make it to her in time.

  “Ubit’ devochku. Yeye otets svin’ya. Isn’t that what you said? Is it coming back to you now?”

  I had no idea what Reagan was up to or what she was saying to Red in Russian but I knew him well enough that she was pissing him off. Red was erratic and unpredictable in nature. The last thing she needed to do was make him angry.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you aren’t telling me where to find you,” I said making my way toward voices in the distance. I was nearing the center of the factory where the main offices were housed. My only hope was to find Reagan and go in with guns blazing.

  And then I heard it. Gunfire from the end of building. Shouting and mass pandemonium coming from the entrance to the hallway in front of me. I rushed to the scene, only to find innocent bodies lying across the floor and four masked gunmen with automatic rifles hustling down the hallways.

  “Unknown shooters are in the building. I repeat, unknown shooters are in the building.” I said loud and clear, hoping Reagan was in a position to get away from Red and take cover.

  “Someone go find out what the racket it is,” said Red. “Maybe your lover is trying to rescue you.”

  He couldn’t distinguish the gunfire from any other noise and I realized I was on the wrong end of the building. “Shit,” I hissed. “I’m on the wrong end of the building. I’m coming. I’m coming now.”

  I followed the shooters, keeping my distance. The employees had begun to flee the building in the wake of the gunfire. Working my way against the mass exodus, I held my guns tightly against my body. I didn’t want to be associated with the other shooters.

  “Now that we’re alone, Rodya” I heard Reagan say. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here? You come here to Russia and make plans to kill Americans. Who knew that the demise of the world would begin and end in this shit box of a conference room on the third floor of a factory in the middle of nowhere?”

  The sound of Red hitting Reagan again caused my heart to sink and my stomach to flinch. She’d given me her location and I needed to get her out of there fast.

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m the daughter of the pig who killed three of your men.”

  “What are you doing? He’s going to kill you. Stop it. Stop now.” I whispered. In my mind, the worst kind of ending was coming to fruition. The love of my life was going to die cruelly and the mission would fail.

  Making my way to the nearest stairwell, I paused before the turn of each landing. The gunfire below was loud and I only came to a halt when I heard the shouts in English—they were American. “The gunmen are American.”

  I didn’t know who else had been sent here, but they were sloppy as hell. Operatives conducted missions with the highest degree of accuracy with the lowest amount of human loss. The men shooting up the hallways were not American military or government operatives. This was some other kind of hell completely.

  “You kidnapped me, when I was just a kid, you asshole. You wanted to get back at my dad. But instead, you paid for it.”

  “Shit. Stop now. Don’t say anything else. If you value your life, if you value us, please I’m begging you. Nothing will give him greater pleasure than to end you. And I love you.”

  “Well, isn’t it a small world,” Rodya said.

  I stepped onto the third floor, thankful I’d made it before I heard him put a bullet in Reagan’s head.

  The hallway was empty, but a sliver of light shone from under one office door. “I’ve found you. Now stop running that beautiful mouth of yours so I can stop this shit.”

  The sound of heavy footsteps caught me off guard and I ducked into an unlocked office, cracking the door to watch Rodya’s goons run down the hall.

  “Yest’ boyeviki v zdanii.”

  “Would you look at that, Rodya,” Reagan said. “There are gunmen in the building.”

  I knew Reagan was translating for me. I prayed she’d stop. The only reason she was still alive was because of the confusion caused by the extra gunfire in the building.

  “Your smartass boyfriend is going to be sorry he’s showing his face to me. And as far as you’re concerned, I think I should leave you with Boris and the boys. I’m sure they would love to fuck you before they put a bullet in your head.”

  I took a step forward to leave the dark office where I hid, only to hear the band of shooters run past.

  “He’s gotta be in here somewhere.”

  “Find the fucker. I want his Russian ass dead. I want to piss on his skull after his brains are scattered in the floor.”

  Shock slammed into me. Joe Joseph was in the building. He was leading the brigade of gunfire.

  “Joe,” I hissed from the crack of the office door.

  “Who the fuck is that?”

  “Joe, it’s King.”

  Joe Joseph looked frazzled and was nearly foaming at the mouth. Not in the tactical gear his goons, he’d waited for them clear a path to Red. “What the fuck?”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. I was out of breath, out of patience and out of time.

  Joe’s hand shook as he pulled the gun from his side and held it to my head. Holding my arms in the air, I dropped my handgun, the rifle hanging freely on my back. “I don’t know what you think, Joe. I’m here to inspect the factory for the company I work for.”

  “Oh yeah? You always carry an M4 on your fuckin’ back while you inspect, doctor?”

  “Joe, why are you here?”

  I didn’t have time to negotiate with him, but if he put a bullet in my head, I’d be no good to anyone.

  “I tracked this motherfucker across the globe. He…” Joe paused, the grief written across his face. “He killed my little girl, King. He did it. And now I’m takin’ him the fuck out.”

  I nodded. “I’m with you. Let’s do it. But Joe, my partner is in that room,” I hissed pointing across the hallway. “I need her alive. Do whatever you want to him and his crew and then get the hell out. I’m blowing the whole building tonight.”

  29

  REAGAN

  My cheekbones throbbed from the two punches Rodya landed. My hair matted to my sweating face, I flashed back to my childhood. Tied to the chair in the boardroom, the same man stood before me. Only this time, if he was going to kill me, I was taking his ass with me.

  I made peace with myself and the idea I may not come out of this alive. I was ready to do whatever. No matter what I was killing Rodya Laskin. If I could only reach the detonator in my front pants pocket, I could blow my bra filled with C4, triggering the explosives at the foundation of the building. If I could get to the detonator and even place it on the explosives, a gunshot to my chest could set it off. As it was, a gunshot to my heart and through my explosive bra wouldn’t bring about anything but my own death. I had to reach the detonator.

  The chatter in my ear from King let me know that our extra gunmen were courtesy of Tina Joseph’s father, Joe Joe. I never thought I’d live to see the day where I was thankful for the mafia to show up. But then I realized that at the rate I was going, I very well may not see the day.

  Twisting the electrical cord they’d used to tie me up over and over in a figure eight, I managed, with the help of my sweating palms, to liberate my right hand just enough to slide it to freedom. Clasping my hands together to hold my captive posture, when Joe and King stormed the room, I would make my move.

  The chair I sat in was on casters and could easily be kicked from under me. As long as Rodya was close, I could land one sidekick to his t
hroat, crushing his Adam’s apple and taking away his oxygen and will to live.

  I flinched as shots were fired outside the doorway. Rodya silently motioned for his henchmen to check it out.

  “You think sending them out is going to help you?” I shouted, knowing King could hear me, but giving the gunmen on the other side a chance to be prepared.

  Opening the door, hellfire rained down as they were each shot once in the head from a distance, falling to the ground.

  Rodya immediately grabbed me by my ponytail, pulling me from the chair to my feet and I kicked the rolling chair from under me. The cold steel of the gun barrel pressed against my temple as he jerked my head and I strained to hold my hands and my instinct to roundhouse him to the head together.

  I closed my eyes, focusing on slowing my heart rate and breathing. At a near halt, I calmly weighed my options. If I attacked Rodya, he could react and shoot me. If I waited until King stormed the room I would have a better chance of breaking free from him if he was distracted. I took a breath and waited.

  Silently, King moved into the room alone, the M4 assault rifle pointing at Rodya’s head.

  “And so it comes down to this, my friend,” Rodya said.

  “I’m not your friend. We were never friends.”

  King circled the room, keeping his eyes on Rodya, never looking me in the face. He was focused, and I knew if he looked into my eyes he might lose his tight control.

  “Good. I’d hate it if you had to tell people your friend killed your lover right in front of your very eyes.”

  “Why, Red? Why would you do this?”

  “Why couldn’t you just stay the fuck out of it?” Rodya asked. “I liked you, King. I really did. I liked it that you loved to fuck women and I got to hang out with you while all the beauties around us threw themselves at us, hoping to be the next lover in your bed—in my bed. I even thought of cutting you in on this deal. But when I couldn’t get you to even fudge a couple of research numbers, I knew it wasn’t going to work out. I needed to get rid of you.”

  “So you killed my friends?” King asked.

  My hands twitched as Rodya pressed the barrel of the gun harder into my swollen temple. I wanted this to be over. Whatever the outcome, I was ready. I only knew I needed it to be over.

  “I killed a couple of whores you’d fucked, and still I couldn’t get the feds to investigate you. Now why do you think that is, King? Is it that I was stupid or maybe smart enough to involve an undercover operative in my business dealings?”

  “I was just as surprised to see you in India—”

  “As I was to see you? Yeah, you’re good. But you’re not that good.”

  Rodya pulled me by the hair, yanking my body backwards. “It’s just a fucking family reunion up in here. I fucked this little piece of ass years ago. That’s right King. I had her first. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say how happy it’s going to make me to put a bullet through her head. Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

  “Let her go, Red,” King said. “Let her go, and you can take me in her place.”

  “I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you,” he said momentarily slinging his gun around to point to both of us.

  “You need me to tell you where the Semtex is hidden in this building.”

  “Semtex?” Rodya loosened his angry hold on my ponytail. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Of course I would.” Kings words were calm—unnervingly calm. “I don’t give a shit. I’ll blow all of us to hell and not give it a second thought. But if you let her go, I will let you keep your factory—and your life.”

  Rodya dropped his stance for a split second. It was the only moment I needed.

  Elbowing him in the gut, I turned my body give him a roundhouse kick to the head. The gun dropped from his hand and fired as it hit the ground. Rodya Laskin was unconscious. Blood drooled from his lips and I looked to King. “See? Fifty-fifty.”

  Joe Joseph rushed the room at the sound of gunfire, running to Rodya. As the Russian lay still, his lungs crying for air, Joe aimed his nine-millimeter gun with silencer at the dying man’s head.

  “Don’t!” shouted King. “Don’t do it, Joe.”

  Taking the cord from my wrists, I turned Rodya on his stomach, tying his hands together.

  “Get him in the chair,” I urged. “Help me.”

  King helped to place him in the chair as Joe watched, still holding his gun ready to fire.

  “Please put that away, Mr. Joseph,” I said. “This man tortured me just as he did your daughter. I know how you feel. I know how she felt. Putting a bullet through his head while he’s unconscious is too good for him.”

  I walked to the sink at the bar area of the conference room. A pitcher of water sat on the countertop. Throwing it into Rodya’s face, he gasped and came to.

  “Well, well, well,” I said staring at him. “I truly wish you could see your face. It’s so much worse than mine.”

  “Reagan,” King began. “We need to finish here. I’m pulling the fire alarm to get everyone out.”

  Sitting on top of Rodya, I straddled his body. “You are a piece of shit. And I cannot think of a better way for you to leave this earth and find your way to the fiery depths of hell than this.

  Unhooking my bra from the back, I slipped it off through my now empty maternity top, holding it in the air for him to see. I climbed off of him, laying the C4 laced bra across his chest and attaching the detonator. Leaning in, I kissed his forehead. “YA budu videt’ vas v ad. I’ll see you in hell.”

  The rudimentary fire alarm sounded through the building. The old fashioned ring sounded like a school bell releasing its students.

  “We’ve got five minutes before the fire trucks arrive. We need to clear the building and get as many people out as we can,” King stated peering out the window to see if the workers were evacuating.

  I looked to Joe Joseph. He was crazed. I’d only seen that look once before—the day my own father rescued me. “Joe, let’s go.”

  Shaking his head, I could tell he wanted to stay behind. He needed to see Rodya dead. He needed to know.

  “Joe, Tina wouldn’t want you to die like this. Not because of him.”

  King and I rushed to the doorway as Joe Joseph spat in Rodya’s face. “You’re not worth a fucking bullet, motherfucker. But I’m not leaving you. You’re gonna need an escort into hell and I’m just the man for the job!”

  We rushed from the building, and King gave me a nod as we both noticed the building had already cleared out for the most part. The problem was, the Russian police were now on the scene.

  “I have an idea,” I said, rushing away from King as we made it outside of the factory. Finding my way through the crowd I looked for the commanding officer. “Who’s in charge?” I asked in Russian. The young cop pointed to the older man across the parking lot and I hurried to get to him. “Sushchestvuyet utechka gaza. Evakuirovat’ vsekh.”

  Begging him to get his men out of the building, I told him there was a chemical leak. Immediately he radioed to his crew and everyone came rushing from the building.

  Quietly, I walked away, joining King as he strolled from the building on the service road ready to make the mile trek to our broken down hotel room.

  I watched King pull the remote switch from his pocket, turning only to make sure people were clear of the building.

  The ground shook under my feet and I stumbled, falling to my knees as the blast crumbled the building like a house of cards.

  I was spent, my body went limp. But it was over. Finally.

  I could hear screaming over the sirens and people rushed even farther away from the building. Rodya Laskin and his conspirators were dead. The two factories gone. For the time being, we were safe. But who knew for how long?

  I got to my feet and began to walk. For every terrorist plot and every evil person decimated, there seemed to be two more take their place. It was like fighting a replicating virus without enough white blood cells to kill it off
.

  For now, we’d continue to do what we could. And people like the man I loved, walking a fifty yards behind me, were willing to place their lives on the line so the rest of us could sleep at night.

  In that moment, I’d never admired or loved anyone or anything as much as I did King Giles. Dirty, sweaty and covered in dust and residue from the collapsing building, he was still a knight in shining armor.

  30

  KING

  Reagan and I sat in the patio room and watched the sun set over the back forty of Rose Hill. The windows open, the fresh breeze blew through the room moving the gossamer white curtains around the room like ghosts. Wrapping my arm around her body, I pulled her close to me and watched her wince as the bruises on her face were still too new to be on the mend.

  “Why don’t you let me put some more ice on that?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s fine. It’s not like it’s going to leave a scar or anything. And besides, I’m tougher than that.”

  I cocked my head in agreement. Reagan Weatherford was the toughest woman I’d ever met.

  When we’d arrived in Alabama two days ago, Lilah had given her notice to Georgia and was gone like the wind—although I knew our paths would cross again. Reagan had checked in with Win and her boss at the Farm, Nick Daniels. She’d been given a couple of weeks off to make some decisions and I hoped that coming to Alabama might be one of them.

  “I know it’s early,” she said sitting up and cracking her neck. “But I’m thinking I want to go to bed before long.”

  We’d not made love since our plane ride to Russian and I was jonesing for another taste of my sweet Reagan. The mission was over, the crisis had been averted—the world’s leaders treating the two separate factory explosions as separate and accidental. The FDA was placing new stringent inspection rules on the labs outside of the U.S. used for ingredients, and I was heading to Washington, D.C. to speak on it in a week’s time. I truly hoped Reagan would make up her mind by that point. I wanted to make some lifelong plans with her, but I didn’t want to rush her into anything she wasn’t ready for.