“He is in the U.S., Tom,” Natasha told him, her smile widening at his obvious discomfort. “Yuri is here.”
Spooked
“OKAY, WHO IS THIS GUY AGAIN?” Jake asked as he and Gaia climbed the stairs in Dmitri’s building two at a time. They’d given up on the elevator after only two and a half minutes of waiting. Gaia and patience had parted ways hours ago.
“He’s the one who helped me put Natasha in jail,” Gaia told him, controlling her breathing as best she could. “And he wouldn’t leave without telling me.” Why would he tell her he’d always be there for her and then bolt the next minute without even a phone call? It wasn’t like him.
“But that Sam guy said—”
“I know what he said,” Gaia snapped, emerging onto Dmitri’s floor. “And either he’s wrong, or something’s happened.”
“Like what?” Jake asked, holding his side as he gasped for air. He was in great shape, but Gaia would bet it had been a long time since he’d taken fifteen flights of stairs at a sprint.
“I don’t know! Maybe he was kidnapped! Maybe by the same people who took my father!” Gaia whispered hoarsely, growing frustrated. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”
Gaia paused in front of Dmitri’s door, took a deep breath, and knocked. There was no movement inside the apartment, no sound at all except the sound of Jake’s rapid breathing behind her. She tried the knob—locked. Jake stepped aside as Gaia moved back, lifted her leg, and kicked in the door.
“Jesus!” Jake said as the locks ripped free from the wall. “Are you trying to get the neighbors to call the cops?”
Gaia couldn’t even reply to his sarcasm. She was staring at what was left of Dmitri’s apartment. This couldn’t have been the same room she’d sat in just a few hours ago.
Drawers hung open, papers were strewn everywhere, a plant in the corner was overturned, a trail of clothing cut across the living room. The place was a total wreck.
“Something’s not right,” Gaia said flatly.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Jake replied.
“Sam didn’t say the place was trashed,” Gaia told him, taking a couple of steps into the apartment. “He said Dmitri left a note. Somebody must have done this after Sam left.”
“Like who?” Jake asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” Gaia said. “Someone’s after him.”
Then she heard a creak from a floorboard and before she could turn around, she and Jake were grabbed from behind.
ED
You know what I need? I need to get out of here. I don’t mean out of this bar or my school or my apartment. I need to get the hell out of this city. I need a college in a different state. Maybe a different country. I need to get as far away from here as possible, because one thing has become crystal clear to me: I am never going to fall out of love with Gaia as long as I have to see her every damn day. And as long as I’m still in love with her, no other girl has a shot. And as long as no other girl has a shot, I’ve got no shot.
No shot at love.
No shot at a functional relationship of any kind.
No shot of getting any play of any kind on any level.
Don’t get me wrong. Sex isn’t the only thing I think about. But I am a guy. A teenage guy. So it does occupy approximately eighty percent of my conscious thoughts. Maybe ninety. And when Gaia’s in the room, it’s more like ninety-nine.
When I’m with Kai, I can’t kiss her without thinking about Gaia. And when Gaia’s in my line of vision when I’m with Kai, I can’t even focus on what the girl is saying. I hate to admit this, believe me. Kai deserves better. She’s an awesome girl and I wish I could be the boyfriend she deserves—for me and for her. But when it comes to girls of the non-Gaia variety I am shit outta luck, as they say.
So maybe if I go away—maybe if I go to St. Louis or Seattle or San Francisco, Paris or Madrid or Minsk. Maybe if I don’t have to see her every day I’ll finally get her out of my system. I’ll finally be able to focus my abundant sexual energy on someone new. “Out of sight, out of mind,” right?
Or . . . wait . . . is it “absence makes the heart grow fonder”?
Damn.
Why couldn’t the proverb people just come up with one opinion and run with it?
the explanation
“Why is Yuri here?” Tom asked. “He wants Gaia,” Natasha replied.
Credible Threat
“SHE HAS TO BE LYING!” TOM asserted, his teeth clenched. “Yuri is dead. We know this.”
Agents Rosenberg and Frenz watched Tom as he paced back and forth across the longer wall of the debriefing room. Director Vance stood in the corner, an intimidating presence, his arms crossed over his chest and his jowls working. No one present wanted Natasha’s statement to be true. In his heyday, Yuri was considered to be a credible threat to the U.S. government. A serious danger to national security. He was on the international most wanted list. He was known for his ruthless tactics, his penchant for physical and emotional torture, his sadistic nature.
He was not a pleasant person to deal with.
“Agent Moore, I don’t want to believe her any more than you do,” Agent Rosenberg said, gripping her notebook. “But you and I both know she’s exhibiting none of the signs of distress associated with lying. She hasn’t blinked, she hasn’t touched her face, she hasn’t cleared her throat. We’ve been monitoring her body temperature with censors and—”
“I know, I know, it hasn’t changed,” Tom interrupted.
“And neither has her heart rate,” Rosenberg finished, glancing down at her notes.
“Of course, we can’t say the same for you, can we?” Agent Frenz asked stoically.
“Why don’t you just say what you mean?” Tom demanded, feeling the truth of Frenz’s insinuation. He was heating up even as he stood there.
“You almost lost your cool in there,” Frenz pointed out. “Again.”
“The woman just told me that my wife’s psychotic, criminal mastermind father was still alive and that he had ordered surveillance on myself and my daughter. I think you can cut me the slightest bit of slack,” Tom said, stepping up to Frenz. He was so close to the man he could see his already sizable nostrils flaring.
“Sir, I respectfully suggest that we remove Agent Moore from this case once and for all,” Frenz said, taking a step back and looking at Director Vance. “I think we’ve given him enough chances to prove himself.”
All eyes turned to Vance as he took a deep breath and rubbed his sizable hand over his face in frustration. Tom’s throat was dry, but he forced himself to speak.
“I’m going back in there, sir,” he said. “I have to finish this.”
Vance inhaled again, drawing himself up to his full height. “Go,” he said. “But tread lightly, Moore. You’ve been warned.”
As Tom exited the room headed for the interrogation block, Frenz eyed him skeptically. Tom could have punched the little weasel.
Who the hell did he think he was, suggesting Tom step down? His rank was so far beneath Tom’s, he couldn’t even remember what it was like to be in Agent Frenz’s position. When this debacle was over, the first thing Tom was going to do was file an inquiry into Frenz’s assignment to this case. It was insulting.
Tom strode into the interrogation room and found Natasha exactly where he’d left her, sitting straight-backed at the table, waiting patiently. He sat down across from her and got down to business. He was sick of messing around.
“Why is Yuri here?” he asked.
There was a moment of silence as Natasha savored whatever morsel she was about to share. She tilted her head, sighed, looked at him like he was pitiful—like he was missing something so very obvious.
“Why, Natasha?”
“He wants Gaia,” Natasha replied.
Tom felt all the muscles in his body recoil. He turned his head and looked at the one-way mirror, somehow keeping his gaze steady. He knew that Vance had his hand on the doorknob right now to come relieve him before he could
explode. He tried with all his might to convey his message to his superior: Back off. I’m staying.
“Why?” Tom asked, his jaw clenched.
“He’s decided that Gaia would be the better candidate to take over the Organization,” Natasha explained. “Tatiana has been, for lack of a better word, passed over.”
I don’t believe this, Tom thought, his fists gripped together under the table. He wants Gaia? He wants Gaia to take over his international terror organization?
“If he wants to groom her to take his place, why instruct you to kill her?” Tom managed to ask.
“He did not order the hit,” Natasha replied. “That was me.”
Tom once again saw himself lurching over the table. Saw himself squeezing every last trace of life out of Natasha. Instead, he waited. He breathed. He gradually started to see straight again.
“I didn’t appreciate his decision to demote Tatiana. She trained all her life. She deserved to take the helm,” Natasha said. She flicked something off the knee of her orange jumpsuit and gazed at Tom.
“Why did he do it?” Tom asked her. “What suddenly made him decide to. . . choose Gaia?”
“Gaia was always the ideal candidate, but Yuri couldn’t risk coming to the States,” Natasha explained. “Not as long as Loki was operating here. It was too risky.”
Tom gazed at the tabletop, his mind working. “So once Loki fell into a coma—”
“Yuri ordered you to be taken out of the picture,” Natasha finished. “I didn’t know it at the time—I was as shocked as everyone else when you were taken to the hospital—but that is what he was doing. He wanted you gone so he would be free to—”
“To approach Gaia,” Tom said.
“Precisely.”
Tom’s mind reeled. This was unbelievable. In his wildest dreams he never would have imagined that this was the story behind everything that had happened. That Yuri was alive. That the Organization still functioned under his watchful eye. That Loki . . .
“Loki had nothing to do with my kidnapping,” Tom said, almost to himself.
Natasha snorted. “Of course not. It was all Yuri. Even Loki’s coma. It was all orchestrated to gain access to Gaia.”
She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like she hadn’t just told him that his own daughter—his only child—was susceptible to the world’s leading psychotic. How could she do this? How could she talk to him like he was an enemy, like he was the scum on the bottom of her shoe? How could she do this to him—to them?
“I want proof,” he said firmly. “I want proof that Yuri is still alive. Proof that you’re related to Katia.”
Natasha sat back in her seat, suddenly bored. “Go to the safe house in Alphabet City. Under the painting on the wall is a safe. The combination to the safe is three, twenty-two, seventeen. There will be a box inside. There you will find everything you’re looking for.”
Tom was out the door before she finished the sentence.
TOM
I am the worst father in the history of the earth. I brought a daughter into this world, and from the moment she took her first breath I have failed her in every conceivable way. I protected her from nothing. Quite the opposite, actually. All I’ve ever done is put her in harm’s way.
I lost her mother. I let my insane brother worm and scheme his way into her life. Let him influence her. I left her with George Niven—an alleged friend who turned out to be a traitor. And then I left her with Natasha, who not only tried to kill her, but who was working for a man who wants to take her and groom her to become head of one of the most evil institutions ever known to man.
My daughter grew up not only without parents, but having to face the worst possible threats on a daily basis. Not only did she have to deal with the normal anxieties of adolescence—boys, school, friends–but she had to fight off my enemies. She had to fight for her life every day and I wasn’t there to comfort her, to guide her, to give her a shoulder to cry on.
I’m a sham.
If this turns out to be true—if Yuri is alive—I have to take him out. He will not have my daughter. I don’t care if I have to move her to Alaska or Australia or the Amazon. But this time, I will protect her. I will do whatever it takes.
Even if I die trying.
Resignation
“GET AHOLD OF HER, DAMN IT! Grab her around the arms!”
“She’s freakin’ strong, man!”
“She’s just a girl, for Christ’s sake!”
The muffled voices came through the dark shroud that had been yanked over Gaia’s head. She struggled and fought against the viselike grip of the man who held her, kicking her legs out, flailing back and forth, but it was no use. She was being dragged backward toward the door, off her feet, the heels of her boots squeaking against the hardwood floor.
What the hell is going on? Gaia wondered. Were these the same people that had taken Dmitri? And kidnapped her father? How had they known she would be here? They had, after all, come prepared. They had black sacks for blindfolding and a precision uncommon to run-of-the-mill burglars and drug fiends that might prey on a recently deserted apartment.
Yep. This was planned. Planned, of course, for her. The resignation settled over Gaia’s shoulders like a steel blanket. Someone was still after her and they had anticipated she would come looking for Dmitri. Whoever they were, she’d walked right into their grasp.
Gaia heard Jake sputtering and cursing and struggling somewhere in the darkness and she was suddenly thrown to the floor. Her spine was slammed against the hard surface and a foot pressed into her sternum.
“Jake?” she called out, coughing against her will. “Jake, where the hell are you?”
“I’m right here,” Jake’s voice replied. He was still standing—somewhere over her. And he sounded like he was trying not to sound scared.
“Not for long,” one of the voices said with an obvious sneer. “Kill the kid. We don’t need him.”
Gaia took a sharp inhale as a rush of adrenaline burst through her veins. She reached up into the darkness, grabbed the ankle attached to the foot that pinned her down, and flung it left with all her might. The guy went down hard, kicking her in the jaw as he went, but the rest of the attackers were surprised enough to give her a few seconds.
She jumped to her feet and whipped the black sack off her head. Jake was pinned against the living room wall, his arms tied behind him, the barrel of a gun pressed into his forehead. Gaia saw the gun-bearer’s thumb pull back the safety.
“Duck!” she shouted.
Jake hit his knees and Gaia, aware that there were three other men converging on her from all sides, tackled the gunman to the ground. The firearm skittered under one of Dmitri’s massive bookcases and the attacker looked up at her, stunned. Gaia brought her fist down right in the center of his face, knocking his head back against the floor. His whole body went limp as he fell unconscious.
“Gaia! What the hell is going on?” Jake shouted.
Gaia turned around and saw all three of the other men advancing on her slowly, arms outstretched, like she was a rabid lion. At that moment she felt like one. These guys had messed with the wrong girl at the wrong moment on the wrong night. They were about to feel a lot of pain.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” the guy in the center said.
They were all wearing black ski masks with just the eyes cut out, but this guy’s eyes were the kind of extremely light blue that was almost clear. The skin around them was pale and his eyebrows were so blond they were barely visible. He was scrawny. Too scrawny to take her unless he had some serious skills.
My first target, Gaia thought, nearly salivating.
She bent at the waist and rushed the guy, flying right past his two friends and tackling him onto the glass coffee table, which shattered all around them. She pinned him down with both hands to his neck and reached up with her back leg to kick one of the advancing attackers in the face. He flew back into a bookcase and didn’t get up again. Then the guy beneath
her lifted both legs and kicked her over his head, where she tumbled awkwardly into the side of Dmitri’s favorite chair before quickly scrambling to her feet.
“Gaia, I can help if you’d just—”
She whirled over to Jake, who had struggled to his feet, and whipped off his blindfold. He looked relieved to see her alive, but that lasted less than a second. His eyes widened and Gaia instinctively ducked at the same moment Jake did. A huge vase shattered against the wall right where their heads had been.
“My hands,” Jake said, crouched to the floor.
Gaia tugged at the cloth that bound his wrists and, surprisingly, it came apart easily. When they stood up again, it was two on two. Scrawny Guy and his bigger buddy faced them down, but being against the wall, Jake and Gaia were at a distinct disadvantage.
Suddenly, Scrawny Guy let out a battle cry and rushed Jake. Jake ducked his punch yet again and Scrawny Guy cracked his knuckles against the exposed brick wall, crying out in pain. Gaia saw the blood out of the corner of her eye.
So maybe the wall wasn’t a bad thing.
She and Jake exchanged a look and the battle began.
Gaia attacked the bigger guy with a flurry of punches, ducking and weaving anything that he tried to counter with. He was slow, but she could tell that if one of those right hooks hit home, she could be down for the count. Gaia concentrated her power on his head, hoping to knock him out the same way she’d knocked out his friend. But suddenly, there was a crash off to her left, and Gaia turned to see if Jake was all right.
Big mistake.
Jake was fine—it was the Scrawny Guy who was down and struggling to get up, having taken a potted plant to the head. But when Gaia turned around again, there was a fist coming right at her face.
Uh-oh, Gaia thought.
Her eye exploded in pain. Sparks seemed to flash across her plane of vision as she sprawled across the floor. Her cheekbone felt as if it had just been smashed with a tire iron.
Freak Page 8
