Gavriil Prakenskii had gotten word to Theodotus Solovyov that his daughter was in danger—that one of the greatest criminal minds had fixated on her. A few years earlier, Solovyov’s wife, Elena, had told her lover, a man working for Evan’s brother, Stavros, that Theodotus hadn’t been the one originally to think up the platform for his work, that his daughter had done so. She had tried to give the data to her latest conquest, but the microchip had been lost for years and then destroyed.
Evan Shackler-Gratsos had been part of his brother’s criminal empire all along, and privy to all information Stavros had. Maxim was certain of it, but he had no real proof. He’d been on his trail now for a while, trying to unravel the threads leading back to Evan Shackler-Gratsos without breaking them, or letting the spider realize he was being watched.
Maxim made certain to be available for work, and he wasn’t at all surprised when he received the request through unofficial channels. He’d built up his mercenary persona over many years and he had a certain reputation. He’d named an outrageous sum for his work, but the Greek billionaire apparently hadn’t even quibbled. Half the money had already been transferred into a numbered account not even Maxim’s Russian handlers knew of.
Immediately Maxim had contacted Solovyov to let him know Gavriil had been correct and Airiana Solovyov was in danger. His employment had gotten him aboard the helicopter and assured that he would be the man looking after Airiana. She was a valued commodity, not at all disposable like the young children aboard.
Evan Shackler-Gratsos’s orders had made it very clear to Maxim that Airiana was to be kept in excellent health and if he didn’t deliver, he would be hunted down and killed. Maxim had wanted to tell them to get in line. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been threatened many times before—it was a fairly common occurrence.
Airiana basically thought most people were fundamentally good. That wasn’t his experience and he doubted if he would ever reach a place where he could think like her. She didn’t jump in the deep end and trust people automatically, but she didn’t think or expect the worst of them either. He thought it was amazing that she could believe in him. He’d thrown that carelessly away with his idiotic statement about making a mistake by putting the Prakenskii brand on her.
He moved to the next container, peered around it and signaled her to hurry. The air around them indicated others were close by, but he couldn’t see them. The moment Airiana was behind him he rounded the corner of the container with her following close. The lifeboat he wanted to stash her in was close.
The sound of a woman’s laughter cut through the air. At once the wind shifted subtly and her scent lingered. Maxim glanced over his shoulder. One moment Airiana had been following him, subdued and determined to get through the entire ordeal without incident, and the next she had abandoned him and was going back along the wall of the last container. She had been the one to shift the wind.
What the hell are you doing? We’re very exposed out here and there are far more crew members here than below.
I recognize that laugh. Her voice was tight.
Maxim caught up with her, one hand on her wrist, slowing her down. She had remembered to muffle all sound around her, but she had no idea what danger they were in. Any moment they could be spotted and his careful planning would go out the window.
I know that laugh. Her name is Wanda Payne. When I was growing up she lived next door to us. She was there at least four years. I’d know her laugh anywhere. Why would she be here?
His heart sank. There was only one reason for a neighbor of Airiana’s to be aboard the ship. Maxim let his breath out slowly. This was a betrayal. Undercover operatives sometimes went deep. Very deep. She had to have been put in place by the Russian government—or the United States—and if it was the U.S. why would she be aboard this vessel?
We’re going to do this slowly and the right way. Drop back behind me. He used his harshest voice more to distract her and force compliance than anything else. He didn’t want to move forward and allow her to see this woman. She already had to cope with too many things. Betrayal was always an ugly one.
He peered around the corner of the next container. They were on the ocean side now and the wind was cold. He spotted Cyreck and a woman walking toward them. They stopped to talk again, the woman laughing at something Cyreck said.
Airiana’s swift intake of breath alerted him. He spun around and clapped his hand over her mouth, pulling her body tight into his. Don’t make a sound.
That woman. The one with Cyreck. That is definitely Wanda Payne. She moved in next door after Mr. Grayson died unexpectedly. A heart attack, I think. Wanda was nice to me. Mom started drinking just after Wanda moved into the neighborhood, and Wanda helped me quite often.
He could imagine how helpful Wanda was. Holding Airiana tight against him, he studied the woman’s face. Plastic surgery was often used when an agent assumed a long-term undercover role, but he usually could identify them by the way they moved. It was one of the most difficult things to change.
It took a few minutes before he figured out who she was. Wanda had gone to the same school as he had, although, at the time, her name was different. She was Russian, and she’d gone a completely different path. She’d gotten a taste for the high life, and she broke away from her handlers. She would take work from anyone as long as the paycheck was fat.
Wanda looked up to Cyreck, laughing, flirting, clearly enjoying herself. She wasn’t a prisoner, more, he was certain, she helped get the children aboard. He shifted the wind just enough that they could hear the conversation.
“Next time, Cy, I promise, I’ll bring one just like her for you.” Wanda laughed.
Cyreck grinned at her. “I’ll hold you to it. You only brought two for the crew and they’re getting used up. The captain is especially hard on them.”
Wanda’s smile faded. “He tossed one of them overboard a few minutes ago because she wouldn’t cooperate with him. What did he expect? She’s been working since the moment she came aboard.”
Airiana stiffened. Maxim didn’t let her go. The tension in her body told him she was already figuring out just what her old neighbor was doing on board the ship and whom she worked for.
Be still, he hissed into her mind when she began to struggle.
She had to have been planted there to spy on us, Airiana said, fury welling up.
I know, honey, but it won’t do us any good if we’re caught. Relax, we’ll deal with Wanda, I promise. She’s Russian and a traitor. I should have known she’d end up working for a man like Evan. She likes money and has no scruples.
You know her? You know that horrible woman?
He felt mist on the back of his hand, the one covering her mouth. Tiny drops—he glanced down to see tears on her lashes and tracking down her face.
I’ve kept every promise I’ve made to you, Airiana, he said, knowing he was a fool, but unable to help himself. Wanda will not get off this ship alive.
They’re talking so casually about the captain throwing a woman overboard. There must be a second woman held somewhere close by.
He nodded his head slowly. He should have known that they would bring women aboard for the crew, particularly the captain. If they entertained other clients at sea, he would insist on some kind of compensation along with money.
I could send a wind and knock her overboard, Airiana declared. Maybe they’d stop the ship and try to get her back.
You know they won’t. No one is that important to them—unless it’s you. I doubt that any of them wants to be the one to tell their boss that something happened to you.
He deals in weapons, human trafficking and top secret defense systems? He’s a busy man.
He runs the shipping company, and his biker club runs drugs. They do it all.
He removed his hand from her mouth, but didn’t let go of her. Cyreck and Wanda were once more on the move, heading toward
a storage container just a few feet from the one they hid behind.
Wanda took out a key and unlocked the door. She swung it open and began swearing. Cyreck looked in. It was too much of an opportunity to pass up. Maxim released Airiana and put a finger to his lips. He moved in silence around the container, right out into the open, walking up to both parties as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Cyreck glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to look inside the container again. Maxim could see the dead woman inside. She’d slit her own wrists with a piece of glass. Wanda kicked at the woman’s feet. Cyreck bent to get a closer look.
Maxim shoved his knife through the back of Wanda’s neck hard, spun her around and slit her throat, throwing her body on top of the dead woman’s all in one continuous movement. Cyreck jumped back as Wanda’s body fell nearly on top of him.
“What the hell, Maxim. You can’t just kill her because you don’t like her. Sheesh. Now I’ve got to tell the captain we don’t have any women available. He’ll have to take the teenager, and he hates kids. He wants a woman that knows what she’s doing.”
Maxim palmed his knife and threw it, the blade penetrating Cyreck’s chest and slicing deep into his heart. Cyreck’s eyes went wide with shock and he looked down at the knife sticking out of his chest in total disbelief.
“No worries,” Maxim assured. “I’ll tell the captain myself. You just rest here with your friends.”
He shut the container door and locked it. Just to be on the safe side, he drew the air through the holes, so that Cyreck couldn’t breathe if the knife wound hadn’t killed him. He waited a few minutes before he joined Airiana.
Do you think she killed my mother? Was she capable of torturing her like that? Airiana asked. Mom would have opened the door for her, let her in, asked her if she wanted coffee. Wanda knew what music my mother played when she was drinking. She could have set the scene easily.
Every one of the operatives had been trained in torture. He was very skilled. He didn’t use those skills, but he certainly knew just about every possible way to hurt and then kill a human being. In his opinion, Wanda was a psychopath. She didn’t have any morals and it didn’t bother her to inflict pain on others. He nodded his head slowly.
If she lived there for four years, what would have triggered her to suddenly go after your mother?
I stopped talking to my mother about my work when she began drinking so heavily. She had nothing to pass on to my father, if that’s what she really was doing. Could that have something to do with it?
He heard the guilt in her voice. He hated this. Hated all of it. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, his hand cradling the back of her head.
That day, after you found your mother, what was the first thing you did?
I screamed and screamed. Then I ran outside. I couldn’t stand the smell inside the house. I called Westwood at the school and told him what happened and that I was going over to my neighbor’s. He said they’d be right there. They sent a helicopter, the police, an ambulance, everyone. I ran to Wanda’s and told her how I found my mother. She said she’d go check, just to be certain.
She didn’t know you’d called this person, Westwood, did she?
Airiana shook her head.
That’s what saved you. She was gaining your trust by going into the house. She would have taken you away that day, but they got there too fast and they took you back to the school.
You’re saying Wanda tortured and killed my mother.
I believe that’s probably what happened, yes. And your mother’s death wasn’t sanctioned by the Russian government. Wanda was already working for someone else—most likely Evan’s brother, Stavros.
They’d been out in the open too long. He had to stash her quickly and find out the lay of the land. He urged her back toward the lifeboat that was lashed up on deck. It was covered and had supplies in it. The captain made certain it was always well stocked and that the mechanical rigging was well-oiled and working perfectly. That was his escape should there be need.
Maxim pulled up one of the corners of the canvas to allow her to crawl inside. Stay still. Don’t make a sound. I’ll be a while. Guard that bag, we’ll need it to get out of here.
What are you doing now?
I’m going to disable the helicopter and then go talk to the captain. The engines should begin to lose power soon and the ship will start slowing. He’ll be barking orders at the engine room but no one is alive to hear him.
Her gaze clung to his, making it difficult to leave her. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. She blinked up at him, but she didn’t pull away and she didn’t kiss him back. She merely looked at him. He stepped back and yanked down the canvas, sending up a silent prayer no one discovered her.
He made his way to the helicopter, not bothering to hide his presence. He would draw more attention slinking around then just walking right out in the open. He was supposedly a member of Evan’s mercenary army and few would consider interfering with him or questioning him.
Two men patrolling around the upper deck nodded to him and kept moving. They looked bored with their job and weren’t paying much attention to anything but each other and the argument they appeared to be having. He waited until they had disappeared from sight and then strolled right up to the helicopter.
It wasn’t difficult to slip inside without being seen. He moved quickly. Flying helicopters had been easy enough to learn; repairing them was something altogether different, but they had to learn just in case their ride went down. He crawled to the baggage bay and removed two of the avionics panels.
He worked fast, but meticulously. He took off the cover housing to the start solenoid and took out the contact. The engine wouldn’t start without it and a few other systems wouldn’t work either. He replaced the cover and then the panels before easing out of the baggage bay. He glanced at his watch. He’d disabled the helicopter in record time, but still, night had fallen fast and already the ship’s engines sounded labored.
The ship was definitely slowing. He jumped from the helicopter and slipped under it, between the skids, waiting while the wind brought him information. The two guards were on the far side of the ship from him, but two men were hurrying toward the stairs, most likely to find out why no one was answering below in the engine room.
He moved into the shadows to follow them. He caught them just above the stairwell. “You’ll need to remain quiet and come with me,” he said softly, announcing his presence.
Both swung around to face him, eyes going wide with shock when they saw the gun. He handed the shorter of the two a zip tie. “Hands behind his back, put it on tight.”
The taller of the two men glared at him as the shorter one complied. “You’ll never get away with this.”
“You’re lucky I’m letting you live. Everyone below is already dead.” He slapped tape over the man’s mouth and then indicated for the shorter one to turn around. It took only seconds to tie and gag him with the tape and zip ties. The container that had held the women was a short distance from the stairs. He marched them to it, unlocked it and shoved them both inside.
The smell of death was overpowering. He slammed the door closed on the foul odor and inserted the lock. He strode across the deck again, heading toward the bridge. The ship shuddered and slowed more. Several crew members raced toward stations. He kept walking, ignoring the chaos breaking out on the deck. The captain was shouting into his radio, calling down to the engine room for an explanation, but clearly it was of no use.
“Captain Martsen?” Maxim said softly.
Martsen spun around, swearing as Maxim continued toward him. He waved the Russian off. “I’ve got no time right now,” he snapped. “I’ve got problems.”
“Of course you do,” Maxim replied in a soothing voice. “You’ve had them for a while now, haven’t you?”
“What are
you talking about?” Martsen demanded.
The ship shuddered again and the roar of the engines quieted. The momentum of their speed kept them moving, but clearly they were no longer being powered.
“I suggest you drop anchor,” Maxim advised.
“I know what to do with my own ship,” Martsen proclaimed. “Get out of here before I call security to have you thrown out.”
Maxim leaned his hip against the wall and looked coolly down his nose at Martsen. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”
Martsen turned back to give the order. “Drop anchor. Drop anchor now.”
At once the sound of the huge chain vibrated through the bridge and sparks flew up into the night like a small fireworks show.
“That’s all I needed from you,” Maxim said. He pulled out his gun. “Keep in mind, Martsen, you’re of no more use to me and I prefer to just kill you outright. Get moving. Walk toward the container where you keep those women prisoner.”
The first officer and second officers raised their hands immediately and began to walk toward Maxim when he indicated to do so with his weapon.
The captain glanced through the glass, out onto the deck to see the two men running toward them with assault rifles. “Go fuck yourself, Maxim, this is my ship . . .”
Maxim shot Martsen dead center in the middle of his forehead and turned the gun on the two security men running toward the bridge. They fired at him, and he dropped low. The first and second officers went down as the sweep of bullets smashed equipment. Maxim took careful aim, using the wind for his map, and he fired one shot, taking out the closest of the two men.
He could hear more men running, and satisfaction moved through him. It was going to be easier killing them all in one place. They should have spread out and used available cover.
Airiana screamed. Loud. In pain. That hadn’t been in his plan. His heart jerked hard in his chest and he called the wind, looking for her exact location and how many men surrounded her. Two in front of her and two on either side.
He rose and fired at the second security man, killing him instantly. Two men dragged Airiana toward the bridge while two others held their weapons at ready. Maxim slipped out of the control room and found the shadows. He was part of the night and could move in silence. He waited for the two men in the lead to reach him. He kicked the first one in the face hard, using a roundhouse kick, and caught the other by the neck, dragging him in front of him.
Air Bound Page 15
