“What the fuck just happened?” Dexter asked in a daze.
“You don’t betray Russian Intelligence and live to tell the tale,” Navarro said darkly.
“What about Lucy?” Dexter asked with concern. Was there another hit squad on their way to the house? Were Regan and Hawthorne and the girls in danger?
“Lucy was always one of ours,” Regan murmured in his ear. “I’m not saying they’ll be sending her flowers unless they’re laced with Novichok, but they understand the game. Lucy played it better than them this time, and they know it.”
“Even so, let’s get everyone to safety ASAP. And maybe get Lucy back to the embassy in case the Russians change their minds,” Dexter said nervously.
“What about the money?” Navarro sounded pissed.
“We have the girls, and the kidnappers are dead,” Max said. “I don’t care enough about the money to start a gunfight with a bunch of desperate ex-KGB operatives.”
“Do not engage with those motherfuckers unless they come for you first, in which case you can blast them to kingdom come,” Regan ordered sharply.
Dexter smiled at his colleague. “I love my job.”
Navarro grunted, but Dexter swore he saw the faintest of smiles curve his lips. He loved his job too.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kristen reached out to hug Irene. They sat on the floor in the back of the van in a journey strangely reminiscent of their abduction a few days ago.
They both stank, and Kristen didn’t even care.
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Irene, barely able to believe they’d made it out alive. “Sorry for everything. I tried to get out of the wardrobe like I promised the other night but that one guy, the one who was skanky, he found the plastic knife I’d hidden and nothing else I tried worked on the catch. I should have gone that night like you told me to.”
Irene leaned against her. “It wasn’t your fault. You were brave waiting for me. I’m grateful but next time listen to me, will ya?”
Tears welled up. “But it’s my fault they cut off your finger. If I’d escaped maybe they wouldn’t have done that.”
“They would have done worse.” Irene shivered.
“It should have been me. I don’t know why it wasn’t me.”
One of the guys who’d rescued them, the cute one with the muscles and eyes that barely left Lucy, spoke. “There are a thousand possible scenarios as to what might have happened if any of the circumstances changed, but the bottom line is kidnappers often like to play mind games and I suspect they considered Irene more disposable than the US Ambassador’s daughter.”
Kristen flinched. “You’re not. You’re worth ten of me.”
Irene wiped her eyes. “Don’t be nuts.” She held out her bandaged hand, the handcuffs now thankfully removed. “I don’t care about losing my finger so much as I care about living. But fuck those bastards for doing that to me. Fuck them.”
The hot guy shifted to the end of the bench closer to them. Lucy sat to the side on top of some cases.
He held out his hand to shake hers. “I’m Max, by the way.”
“The negotiator?”
“That’s right.” He smiled at her then turned to Irene. “Can I take a look at that wound and put some antibiotic cream on it and a fresh bandage?”
Irene nodded and hesitantly held out her hand.
Max carefully unwrapped the soiled dressing without saying a word.
Kristen didn’t want to look but forced herself to. The wound was raw and ugly. She winced. “No one will notice, Irene.”
Irene flexed her hand and winced. “It looks ugly. I don’t even care. People can look all they want and then they can fuck off.”
“I like this girl,” the older guy near the front said. He pulled out the first aid kit and handed it to Lucy who opened it and found the things Max needed.
“It looks a little infected. We have doctors waiting at the embassy.”
“Did you call my parents?” Irene asked anxiously.
Max nodded. “I spoke to a friend who is working with them. He’s taking them to the embassy to meet you. They’ve been very worried.”
Irene’s eyes were huge as she nodded. “I’ve been worried about them too. I bet they freaked.”
No one said anything which meant they had really freaked. Kristen could imagine how her own mother had reacted.
The older guy gave them a bottle of water and a bag of chips each. It all tasted like heaven.
Irene frowned and wiped her mouth. “Why are you here, Lucy?”
Lucy leaned forward. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”
Lucy glanced at Max. Kristen could feel the electric buzz between them. It almost made her smile despite everything.
“I have been working undercover for the CIA since I arrived. Searching for someone selling secrets to the Russians.”
Kristen’s brows rose. She’d heard the conversation earlier, but she hadn’t been paying attention. She’d been too scared of the kidnapper putting a bullet in her brain. It sounded like something out of a spy novel.
“I found that person tonight. It was Miranda. Your mother’s PA.”
Irene’s mouth opened in shock. “What the hell? And she arranged for Kristen to be kidnapped?”
It made Kristen’s stomach churn.
Lucy’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve known her forever.”
Kristen grimaced. “I never really liked her though. Kevin despises her.”
“You and your brother have excellent taste.” Lucy’s smile faded. “What I’m guessing is Miranda was looking for a way out. It’s not a great place to be, caught between taking risks to betray your country or being exposed as a traitor.”
Lucy shot another look at Max.
Kristen wanted to fan herself at the heat that arced between them.
“She and the main kidnapper, who was a policeman, were probably behind the kidnapping.”
The blood drained from Kristen’s head, and she had to lean against the back of the van. Her hair was greasy and gross. She pulled it back from her face and sat there with her hands wrapped around her skull.
“I don’t know why he did what he did. Maybe they were in love, but it seems like a shitty excuse to hurt people.” Lucy flashed Max a look that he didn’t catch. Kristen did though.
“He probably resented the fact criminals got rich while the public servants didn’t,” Max interjected.
“I don’t think he was entirely bad,” said Irene.
“How can you say that after what he did to you?” asked Kristen.
“He shot at least two of the other kidnappers,” Irene spoke as Max carefully wrapped a new bandage around the now cleaned wound. “They were going to rape me.”
Kristen tightened her grip around her friend’s shoulders. “You are so brave.”
“Not really. Anyway, the older guy, he came in before they could do it and killed them both. That’s when I managed to run into the garden. I think he let me go in the end.”
“The bastard had them cut off your finger…”
Irene pulled her hand back and cradled it against her chest. “I know.” She shrugged. “But he wasn’t all evil. It’s hard to explain.”
“You’re both really brave,” Lucy said.
“So are you,” Kristen stated firmly. “You saved me from that horrible man. And when Miranda lit the gasoline, you didn’t panic the way I did.”
“It’s training.”
“I want that sort of training,” Kristen said firmly.
“Better sign up for the FBI then, ladies,” one of the guys at the front called.
Lucy guffawed. “I’m pretty sure it was the Agency who trained me. Not the feebs.” Then she winked at Kristen.
Kristen could not believe this woman, who’d seemed like such a quiet and downtrodden human being, had all the time been hiding this badass persona. Kevin was going to freak.
Maybe it meant Kristen didn’t have to be scared h
er whole life. Maybe she could learn to be a badass too.
“Thank you. All of you.” Kristen fought tears because she didn’t want to cry. She wanted to be stronger than that. “You saved me. Irene had already saved herself, but you saved me.”
The atmosphere charged and changed. They knew. Everyone in the van knew they’d helped save their lives tonight. They knew they’d made a difference. And Kristen realized she wanted to do something similar with her life. Fight the bad guys. Come out swinging.
Chapter Forty
They arrived at the embassy in the TacOps van. Isaac Navarro drove straight up to the front gate and demanded entry by laying on the horn. The fact they’d called Iain Bartlett to meet them would hopefully help get them inside pronto.
Lucy wasn’t sure what kind of reception she was going to get. She sat in the back with her arms around the two young women. Everything had been worth it to get these two out alive. Her bosses—all her bosses—were going to be pissed with her, but she didn’t care.
Max kept shooting her looks, and she didn’t know how to interpret them. Yes, he’d wanted to know if what they’d shared was real, but it didn’t mean he cared for her. He’d already told her how he felt about spooks.
Maybe it was a matter of pride, wanting to know he hadn’t been duped the way she’d been duped. She understood that. If she could have confronted Sergio after she’d found out he was a Russian Intelligence Officer sent to compromise her, she would have done so.
Although Sergio would have no doubt lied.
He’d been a lot better at the game than she was.
Suddenly, they were inside the embassy gates, and the door was flung open, and they all spilled out.
She let the girls go ahead because she knew their parents would be frantic. She followed slowly, reluctant to confront anyone.
Max waited at the door and held out his hand for her. He let go as her feet touched the ground. She curled her fingers to try to retain the sensation of his touch. Regan was arguing with security who was going over the van with an explosive detector. They wanted to look inside, and he refused.
Navarro and Dexter had both pulled ball caps low over their brows and sidled out of the limelight.
One by one they entered the building after DSS searched them. Iain Bartlett pursed his lips as he checked her out. When he was done, he shook his head slightly. “You had me fooled.”
She fought the urge to say sorry. She wasn’t sorry. She’d been doing her job same as he did his job every day. Lucy pulled the kidnappers’ cell phone out of her pocket. Max had cut the call earlier in the van. “Do you have an evidence bag?”
Bartlett held one open and she dropped it inside. “The kidnappers left that at the fountain location where I was instructed to dump my phones into the water.”
“We found your other devices. I suppose they told you to ditch the bags too?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t about to admit that her CIA handler had told her to abandon the money and the girls to protect the Agency’s ass. And maybe that was Lucy’s way of protecting the Agency, though she had to wonder if it deserved the lengths she’d gone to.
She caught up with the others inside and there were the Dickersons hugging Kristen, all of them sobbing. And Irene’s family was there too. Her father had broken down to the point he was sitting on the floor rocking Irene in his arms.
Lucy watched as Mrs. Lomakin knelt down and put her arms around both of them.
Maybe they’d get through it.
Maybe they wouldn’t.
Max was across the room talking to Brian Powell and the other negotiators. Probably explaining what had gone down tonight and what boiled down to a massive security breach. Shit was going to hit the fan with the news Miranda Foster was a Russian agent and had been murdered by them while trying to flee.
A man approached her with a frown on his face.
“Aren’t you the chick who was caught on camera with Anotoly Agapov?”
Lucy looked him in the eye. “If by chick you mean Intelligence Officer then yes, I am. Andy, isn’t it?”
“Ah. That’s going to make my contact at the British embassy piss his pants.”
“Happy to help.”
He smiled.
Max came over and clapped his buddy on the back. “Lucy, you met Andy? Andy meet Lucy.”
“We’ve been introduced.” Andy looked amused. “And now my job here is done, I’m off to Montevideo for some sunshine and surf. Coming, Max?”
Max looked at Lucy, but she couldn’t read his expression.
“I’m going to be tied up here for a little while. I might be able to make it for a few days after I talk to my boss.” He thanked his friend who’d traveled thousands of miles to help him. That was friendship. That was commitment.
Andy gave her a nod and walked over to Irene’s family.
“The Argentine police picked up Boris Yahontov on his way to a private airfield. He was minutes from escaping,” said Max. “He’ll be extradited to the US to face money laundering charges.”
She nodded curtly. Good. Didn’t matter how rich someone was. They needed to answer for their crimes. “Miranda warned him to create a distraction to help her escape. She wasn’t even certain he was the target.”
“The Russians are all panicking apparently, which probably explains why Agapov eliminated Miranda before she could be interviewed by the CIA.” Max shifted his feet. “They don’t know we have her on record admitting her actions. That was good work.”
The Americans also had her murder on film. Hard to deny that sort of evidence.
“They must have followed her when she left the embassy.” Whether they’d killed her because she’d tried to escape their grasp or because the Russians didn’t want her telling the Americans exactly what she’d given to them over the years, Lucy wasn’t sure. They’d probably never find out without a sit down face-to-face with Agapov.
She shrugged. “Even though it is likely she was the only spy, everyone who works here will need to be polygraphed and interviewed regarding what they knew.” She grimaced. It was sucky to work under the shadow of suspicion.
She could feel Max staring at her.
“What?” She felt itchy and confused. The job here was over, and she didn’t know what she was going to do next.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She finally met his gaze. “Do I have to?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I saw one of the photos.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach. She didn’t have to ask which photos he meant.
“I’m sorry,” he told her.
Emotion made it hard to speak. “About what?”
He stood a little closer. “Because I suspect you had to make some tough choices. And I also suspect what I said about spooks made you think you couldn’t confide in me.”
“I’m not allowed to confide in you regardless.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t know how she felt or what she wanted. Or why she was so angry with Max.
“I realize you don’t really care what I think.”
Her eyes shot to his. “That’s not true. I do care. I… I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I want to do with my life now this op is over. Ever since I discovered Sergio Raminsky was Russian intelligence, and that I compromised my integrity, the only thing that mattered to me was proving to Langley that I was worthy.”
He closed his eyes, and she could see she’d upset him.
He opened them again. “You are worthy.”
“I didn’t feel worthy.”
“What about now?” he asked softly.
She just looked at him, unable to speak.
“Listen. We both have many hours of debriefing in front of us, and,” he took her hand in his, “I don’t know, maybe you have to go off on some other mission.” He took out his business card, and Lucy tried not to think about poor Abigail Blanco who’d died because of their investigation.
Lucy felt utterly exhausted and weary of he
r life.
“I know you have my cell numbers, but that’s also my home address. You may not know what you want, but I’d like to see you again. I don’t want you to disappear from my life. What we have is special. I’d like the chance to explore it more. We might not get too many more chances.” He pressed the card into her hand and walked away.
She stared after him, feeling as if she were being torn in two. Worse than finding out about Sergio. Worse than the humiliation of having to tell her boss about her mistake. Those feelings were about shame and personal failure. This was about something completely different.
“I would never betray my country, Max,” she called after him.
“I know that, Lucy,” he called back. He walked away with her staring longingly at his back. She’d told herself never to build fantasies around a man again, but god, she wanted to. She looked down at the card he’d put in her hand. And the small, blocked letters written there. “TRUST ME. TRUST US.”
The gaping hole started growing inside her again. She almost panicked and ran after him. Threw herself at him. Begged him to love her.
He’d already forgiven her, she realized. He already thought she was worthy of starting a relationship with. Old Lucy would have been all over the offer…
She realized, despite all her bluster, all her self-talk, she was still Old Lucy inside, but she was an amalgam now. Stronger, fiercer, wiser. She hadn’t done anything wrong with Sergio. She wasn’t depraved or deviant. They’d had sex. It was the Russians who’d perverted that encounter. Degraded her.
She’d only been doing her job, and she’d castigated herself for her mistakes, allowed herself to be exploited because of her humiliation and hurt. She had to figure out how to stop punishing herself.
Max knew how to compartmentalize, separate his emotions from the job. The way he’d been regretful over Abigail Blanco’s death, but it hadn’t crushed him. The way he could function as a human being even when people depending on him were suffering. It wasn’t easy, but it had to be easier than what she put herself through.
Cold Cruel Kiss Page 35
