I didn’t just fear for my own life. I couldn’t shake the worrisome thought that the combination of Viktor and Gregorie put all humans in peril. Disturbed by what Penn had accumulated on the Koszlovs, I could only take it for so long. The family wasn’t anything like the Brady Bunch. About two hours into the flight, I abandoned all attempts to not shudder. The violent motion wracked my body, and I seized the tablet and shut it down.
Baxter seemed to understand and didn’t protest. He rested his head on the seatback and closed his eyes.
I was grateful for his sensitivity, for him allowing me some modicum of privacy to work on quieting my emotions. I gazed out the window at the Baltic Sea, which would lead to the dark ribbon of the Neva River. I calmed myself by reciting the landmarks of the ancient city. Lenin Square, Peter the Great’s summer palace, the Kazan Cathedral, the stunning blue, gold and bright white Winter Palace. I’d been in the city many times over my life span and had enjoyed most of my visits.
The plane descended through light cloud cover. The wheels skidded on the tarmac, and then we taxied to the gate. My mobile buzzed, and I checked the display.
Hello, gorgeous, Lucien had texted. Waiting in baggage for you.
Just arriving. Be there shortly, I replied.
“Lucien?” Bax asked as he checked his own messages.
“Yes. His flight arrived an hour ago. He’s probably already arranged transport for us. He’ll meet us at baggage claim.”
“Right.”
Duet’s reply was absentminded and distracted. He already had his head buried in his phone.
“Who are you talking to?”
“My mother.”
According to my fast mental review of time zones, it was about three in the morning in Florida. I leaned over as though I was collecting my satchel from under the seat and tried to read the text he had open. He shied away and shut off the screen.
My gut churned. His behavior could be called suspect on a good day.
The door opened and we stood to debark. Tamsyn moved back and allowed me to precede him. I had the oddest sensation that he was studying my back, as though he was meant to report my every move to…someone. But who? T? Or higher? The Director or PM?
I wished I could shake the feeling, but gooseflesh inexorably rose on my arms. My sixth sense kicked in, screaming at me to watch my back.
All the way through the terminal, I argued against my feelings, in the end, deciding that even though I had come to trust Baxter Tamsyn, I trusted my gut more. It wouldn’t hurt to tread cautiously.
Lucien stood next to a baggage carousel. He was a delicious, most welcome sight. His dark wavy hair was tousled like he’s just woken up, and heavy black stubble softened his square jaw and angular cheeks. Dressed in a tight T-shirt, black jeans that clung to his muscular thighs and ass, and bad-guy-stomping boots, I rejected my earlier decision about not sleeping with him until after the mission was over. My thoughts were definitely NSFW.
I slipped into his arms, finding myself clasped tightly to his torso. I laid my head on the right side of his chest, letting his rapid demon pulse soothe my anxiety. I needed to calm myself to have a single hope of staying focused on the task at hand.
“Hello, love. How are you?”
“Better now,” I told him with a quiver in my voice.
I despised this weakness. My emotions were all over the place. Listening to the strong, steady thumps of his heart helped to settle me.
“Let’s have a look at you.” He gripped my biceps and eased me away.
With tender hands, he lifted my sleeve and examined the horrific scar I’d live with for the rest of my unnatural life. Stooping slightly, he pressed his lips against the blackened flesh, a guttural lamentation in some extinct language whispering over my skin.
I loved this sweet side of my demon. And yeah, he was mine. I was straight up claiming him. He was the one being in the universe I believed would always watch out for me. I closed my eyes and reveled in the joy of seeing him. I’d missed him for the past week while I was recuperating.
Lucien relieved me of my long wool coat and held it out for me to slip my arms in the sleeves.
With him by my side, my confidence skyrocketed. Success was in the bag. Defeating Viktor and Gregorie was first on the agenda.
13
Mission Day 14
Near Pavlovsk Experimental Station
We’d landed at Pulkovo Airport twenty minutes ago. As soon as we grabbed our luggage, we were on our way. Lucien drove the relic of a car he’d rented, giving me time to change into my tactical clothes in the back seat. Once I’d shucked the silk blouse and wool skirt I’d traveled in, I donned the black base layer that would keep me comfortable on recon. The temperature in St. Petersburg was frigid, but with my low body temp, the single digits didn’t bother me. Suddenly, it was easy to understand why Viktor had opted for the tropics for his main base of operations.
Bax shivered in his Polartec jacket in the front, volubly complaining the seats didn’t come with heaters. “It’s colder than a ditch digger’s ass. I hate Russian cars. You should have rented a newer model vehicle.”
“Shut the fuck up, Duet,” Lucien admonished impatiently, beating me to the task. Lucien swept an arm across the expanse of the car, deliberately invading Bax’s space. “Look around, trainee. Not many luxury cars in this area. The goal is to blend in.”
Bax clamped his lips closed, and the tips of his ears fired bright red. The freckles across his nose and cheeks were dark splotches in the sea of pink on his face.
I didn’t say a thing because Lucien was right. A luxury car would have stuck out. This was a covert operation. I settled the borrowed body armor vest on my shoulders, finding the weight familiar and comforting. The DIA had sourced some excellent equipment for us.
We’d veered off the main motorway and had moved onto surface roads. Clouds sifted over the half moon, and treetops waved in a steady wind. The scenery around us changed from a high-tech business corridor to seedy and deserted. Only one car approached our direction, headlights beaming brightly. The narrow road was shrouded on both sides by overgrown trees, and the road was pitted with potholes that made the suspension of the old-school, forest-green Romanian Dacia rattle and groan.
I’d placed Drax’s GPS device on the dash before we left the airport. The blue line indicating our route shifted. “We’re coming to a fork in the road. Go left.”
Lucien complied, and the road improved slightly. Potholes had been filled, which I found odd.
“Why fix this portion, but not anything leading to it? Someone maintains this section, and if I had to guess, the slightly better road conditions were thanks to the Koszlovs,” I speculated.
Lucien tapped his thumb on the steering wheel. “Perhaps what they were manufacturing shouldn’t be jostled during transport.”
Setting the phone aside, I worked the slide on the Walther, chambering a round.
“I don’t like this,” Bax muttered.
“None of us do, Duet.” Like a slithering snake, intuition had the hair on my neck standing at attention.
“Where to now, Jayne?” The car idled loudly as Lucien stopped before entering a traffic circle.
“Right,” I replied. “About three kilometers along on the right side.”
I leaned closer to the window, senses alert and on fire, the comforting weight of my firearm gripped in my hand. The trees had thinned a bit, but the underbrush hadn’t. Patches of snow, leftover from a previous thaw, dotted the landscape.
A red brick building came into view in a gap between trees.
“There.” Bax pressed his nose to the window.
Lucien guided the car to the shoulder, letting it bump into the tree line for cover. Holstering the Walther, I made quick work of checking my back-up weapon, the smaller, dependable Colt Mustang I’d strapped to my ankle. It was a six plus one gun. The fully loaded magazine held six bullets, plus one in the chamber. That made seven extra shots I could pump into Gregorie or Vi
ktor if I was lucky enough to find them. I wouldn’t lie—the thought of seeing the pair dead sent waves of glee through me.
After tucking my earbud in, I tapped it to life then fastened the comm link around my neck. Communication would be key for the three of us if we planned to enter the facility undetected.
When I exited the car, a brisk breeze lifted my hair. I tucked the long tresses up into my cap, then pulled out the Walther, screwed on a suppressor, and rested my thumb over the safety. I silently closed the car door, making sure I didn’t draw any attention our way.
Bax had his weapon out, casually holding it against his thigh. Lucien had left his firearm at the small of his back, opting for a viciously curved knife instead. His knife work was good. Great in fact. And leave it to Lucien to be ballsy enough to bring a knife to a gunfight. He shot me a quick grin and shouldered the backpack I knew contained enough explosives to put the facility out of commission. We needed to shut the plant down in a precise manner, to avoid damaging the Pavlovsk Station. That was today’s goal.
Lucien took the lead with me immediately behind him as we trekked the remaining kilometer toward the abandoned asylum. Twigs and leaves crunched under Bax’s feet, and I swiveled toward him, pressing a finger to my lips.
He was also mouth breathing, but I couldn’t correct that in one day.
Lucien pointed to his left where a line of thick underbrush would provide cover while we checked the activity level in and around the building.
One by one, we darted through a bit of a cleared spot, exposing ourselves for precious seconds as we ran for underbrush. Once I arrived, I dropped to my belly and dragged out the binoculars Drax had supplied and set them to infrared. The heat-detecting feature would help us determine just how paranoid Viktor was. I expected the building to be heavily guarded. Viktor was a smart madman.
The binoculars whined quietly as I lifted them to my face. Immediately, I detected the heat signatures of two guards outside the building and another two inside. The lack of men surprised me slightly. Beyond those two, a big dark blotch filled the lenses, with a single tiny glowing green dot about shoulder height.
I whispered the information to my companions. “I’ve got four. Two in, two out. But there’s a blank area, which must be a bulkhead between the outside world and the facility.” I’d seen this type of thing before. Steel doors set in concrete with the small heat signature from an entry panel.
“Do you get anything on radar?” Bax whispered just as softly.
I finagled the device over to the radar mode, and the image switched to a virtual blueprint of the building.
“Nothing useful.” I was frustrated. No way could I lead them into such a great unknown.
Lucien consulted a digital display fastened around his wrist. “According to the reverse radar, there’s a corridor beyond that door leading to a vault, then branches out into two tunnels.”
Two tunnels meant we’d have to split up. I groaned softly. We should stick together, but I also needed to trust my companions. “Lucien, you take the right, Bax and I will head left.”
“Can you glamour the guards so we can sneak past?” Lucien questioned.
“Still too depleted from the toxin to try a glamour from this far out. I could do, but then I’d be useless inside.”
Lucien nodded. “Can you drop the two outside?”
I grinned and bobbed my head. The demon tossed his knife slightly and caught it in a sure grip. “Once Tamsyn and I are in position, you take them out, and I’ll head inside for the other two.”
“Go!” I ordered.
The pair of them melted into the night. I kept the outside guards in my sights, tracking their movements. They were sloppy: crossing paths and pausing to exchange words rather than staking out a section to broaden their coverage area. Based on their lax behavior, I had to believe neither Koszlov monster was in the area. They’d never tolerate such laziness.
I drew a bead on the first guard and waited for Lucien’s signal that they were in place. An owl hooted overhead, the sound mournful and heavy.
Two clicks popped in my ear. Lucien’s go-ahead signal.
I flicked off the safety and gently added tension on the trigger. In the space between heartbeats, I squeezed off the shot. The soft pew of the weapon firing hit my ears. A tiny red hole appeared on my target’s forehead. Direct hit. Before he started his fall to the ground, I swung my gun toward guard number two and fired again. Another hole appeared, and the man crumpled to the ground.
“Cleared the way. Go!” I breathed into the mic.
I sprinted toward the building, clinging to any available cover. The shadows I knew to be Bax and Lucien faded through the entrance. I was mere steps behind them. By the time I snuck into the asylum’s deserted grand foyer, Bax had dispatched one man with a single shot to the heart. Lucien stood over the other, cleaning the lethal knife on the man’s shirt. A crimson line slashed the guard’s throat from ear to ear. No hint of surprise lingered on the dead man’s face…a testament to how stealthy Lucien had been as he approached.
All about the entry space and down the dilapidated corridors, antiquated hospital beds lined the walls. A wheelchair with broken spokes listed to one side in front of a reception desk of sorts. I’d been in hospitals like this, private facilities where wealthy people with tuberculosis were sent to spend their final years. Awful, dismal places where the staff felt as futile as the patients.
I bent and yanked free a keycard clipped to one guard’s belt. “Our ticket in.”
“Ready?” Lucien asked Bax.
At his nod, I swiped the card over the security panel to the right of the door. The heavy steel swung open on well-oiled hinges. Crouching low to lessen potential target areas on our bodies, the three of us invaded the inner sanctum.
I dropped one man where he sat at a control panel, hand raised over a panic button. At his side, another stared at his own chest, as though shocked to find a knife embedded to the hilt. I watched the life bleed from his eyes as he slumped forward.
A yell in Russian rose from behind the pair. I quickly translated the words to what the fuck! and let a smile flit over my mouth as I sent my bullet flying his direction, abruptly cutting off his shout. Bax sprinted forward and blasted his way into a kitchen-like room. He dispatched two more who’d half-risen from their seats.
The influx of thugs was hard to keep up with. Each time we put one down, another popped up behind him in a crazy game of whack-a-mole. The noise of rapidly firing automatic weapons was deafening. Fortunately, every combatant lacked the tactical skill necessary to hit a moving target. My vampire super speed defeated their every effort.
Another trooper came sliding around the corner and drew a bead on Bax. I stalked forward and pumped two bullets into the unfortunate man. I ejected the spent magazine and slammed another into the Walther, working the slide to chamber my next round.
Lucien had pulled his Sig Sauer and was trading shots with a goon hunkered down behind an ancient file cabinet.
From his defensive position near the control board, Bax lifted his pistol, aiming directly at my head. I froze, shock and fright battling in my brain. Had I been wrong to trust the trainee the VIS had forced on me? Unless he had silver-tipped bullets, any shot he fired wouldn’t be lethal. But they sure as hell would slow me down. Especially one to the head.
“Don’t do it, Tamsyn.” My words were soft, but there was no mistaking the command in my tone. I hunched my shoulders up, ducking my head to reduce my available surface area, and prepared to dive to the side.
14
Mission Day 14
On The Outskirts Of St. Petersburg
A grimace dragged Bax’s lips back as he squeezed the trigger, and it was as if the world went into slow motion.
I tracked the bullet heading for my forehead, ready to squeeze my eyes shut.
But wait—the hollow-point bullet went over my shoulder.
The distinctive thud of a body hitting the ground filled my ears. I looke
d down and to my left to discover a guard with a massive hole in his chest, lying in a pool of blood, a terrifying scimitar still clutched in his hand. I stared at Bax as relief crawled through me. But he didn’t waste any time accepting my thanks. He was already focused on the next wave of mercenaries storming into the control room.
I spun and dropped to my haunches, quickly emptying my clip and replacing it.
Shots echoed and ricocheted around the room. Grunts, followed by screams of pain erupted, thankfully, never from one of us. We were relentless in mowing them down. Soon, we’d conquered the swarming wave of troops. No more villains raced through the door. Dead and dying bodies littered the floor, and I was happy ours weren’t among them.
Bax picked his way across the room, stopping alongside one soldier who feebly raised his hand. In staccato Russian, he begged for his life.
With a smirk, Tamsyn said, “I don’t speak your language” and then pumped two shots into the man’s head. I shivered at the extremely cold expression on Bax’s face.
Unease filtered through me. Where had this cold-blooded killer come from? The clumsy, affable trainee had disappeared, replaced by a highly trained agent.
Doubt niggled at the back of my mind. It was as if Tamsyn had hidden a side of himself from me.
Lucien made his way across the room, stopping by each dead body to collect all the firearms. His arms were laden with weapons by them time he made it to my side. A long scratch marred the side of his face, oozing greenish-red blood down his jaw and throat.
The guns clattered to the desk when he discarded them. He laid his hands on my shoulders, turning me this way and that, his gaze roving over my body. He cupped my cheeks. “You okay, love?”
“I’m fine,” I replied and swiped the blood away from his face with my sleeve. “But you’re injured. What happened?”
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