Crossing the Line (21 page)

“I don’t love anyone,” Katya said.

“Do you want to?”

“I’m afraid to in case I lose them. That’s the worst pain of all.”

His heart pounded.

“You think you can cut love out of a body?” Kirill asked.

“That’s enough, Kirill,” Aleksei snapped.

Kirill looked across at him, then rose to his feet and went back down the ladder.

“Why does he love Petrenko?” she asked.

“Viktor’s always looked after him. Now he looks after Viktor.”

“He’s a bit strange,” she said.

He laughed. “You noticed? Keep away from him.” Because Kirill was so quick she could be dead before Aleksei could do anything. “Are you going to fish?”

“What happens if you get pulled overboard?”

“That’s why you should always make sure you’re clipped to the reel. They’re very expensive. We don’t want to lose one.”

That won him a smile. “I don’t think I’ll fish. Maybe they do feel fear.”

He was intrigued by the way she watched Viktor. She could barely take her eyes off him. Doubts crept back.

Katya felt as though she was trapped in a washing machine and slowly suffocating. She tried to play music in her head to keep her calm but kept losing the melody. The others were already drinking. Anna brought beer for Aleksei, but he refused it. Natasha and Sylvie flirted with Constantin, and Petrenko talked quietly to the two Colombians with Bruno at his back.

Now the man she’d been looking for was only a few feet away and she had no idea what to do. One word about Galya and she’d be dead before she could do anything. Aleksei already knew that was her sister’s name. If Galya had ever mentioned Katya… If she’d told the truth under torture… Did Petrenko know who she was?

He wasn’t going to admit to killing her sister. Why had she thought he would? She lay on her back, her knees in the air, shut her eyes and tried to think. If she pushed him overboard, they’d haul him back in. If she grabbed a knife from the galley, could she stab him before they killed her? Could she even stab him? Lift the knife and drive it into him?

Shit, I can’t do it. What if he’s innocent? What if Platov lied and Petrenko is just a guy the FSB wanted to get rid of?
She railed at her stupidity. She
had
no plan. She had no idea what would happen when she started this.

“Bite!” someone shouted and the boat slowed.

She sat up and watched as Petrenko lifted the rod from its holster, braced it against his hip and reeled in the fish. Beth and Sylvie squealed with excitement. Katya followed the splashes at the surface as the fish was hauled closer to the boat. Javez reached over the stern to grab the line. He unhooked the fish, checked it over and then slid it head first into one of the holes on the deck.

“What’s he doing?” she asked.

“We need healthy fish for bait and the tubes keep them alive. As the boat moves forward, water’s pushed through their gills as if they’re swimming.” Aleksei started the boat again. “Want to steer?”

He stood behind her, explained how to keep on the same heading, then put his baseball cap on her head. He slid his hands over her shoulders, moved her hair aside and kissed her neck. Katya knew where she stood in this world of predators and prey. She might want to be a predator but she had prey written all over her. Still, if she could choose her destiny, she wanted it to be Aleksei and not Kirill. There was something about him that chilled her. Not such a leap to think Kirill might have killed Galya on Petrenko’s orders
.

She watched as birds folded back their wings and dropped into the water. Seconds later they soared into the sky. What happened in between? How did they know how far they could go, how long they could wait before they needed oxygen or their wings became waterlogged? Was it instinct that made them pull out?

Can I escape in time?

Katya could almost taste the undercurrent of menace on the boat. Even after the excitement over fishing for bait, something wasn’t right. The other women seemed oblivious—drinking, laughing and flirting. She didn’t know if Aleksei could protect her, but stayed close to him anyway.

When all the tubes held fish, Aleksei announced they’d go after marlin and the Colombians baited the lines.

“Don’t we stop?” she asked.

“Marlin pursues live bait. I have to keep the boat at a steady speed or the fish we’re pulling will drown,” Aleksei said.

She shuddered.

“Katya,” Petrenko called and she tensed. “Stop hiding behind Aleksei and come here.”

She fastened her shirt with shaky fingers and climbed down to the main deck. Petrenko sat next to Constantin, a cigarette in one hand, a glass of vodka in the other. Bruno stood behind them, Natasha at Constantin’s feet.

“Avoiding me, Katya? You prefer Aleksei’s company?”

“He doesn’t smoke. It’s a dangerous habit. Nicotine’s as toxic as cyanide and more poisonous than Indian Cobra venom.”

“Let’s hope I never get bitten by a cigarette.” Petrenko laughed. “Now what about this money I’m owed?”

She stayed silent.

“Debts should be repaid. Don’t you agree, Constantin?”

“Always.” Constantin slid his arm over Natasha’s shoulders, his fingers brushing the top of her breast.

“It’s not my fault my uncle was in your debt.”

“Family, Katya, family.” Petrenko smiled.

She clenched her fists then forced her fingers open.

“How desperate are you for cash?” Petrenko looked her up and down. “Take off that shirt. You must be hot.”

She didn’t move.

He downed the vodka and poured another. “Four thousand dollars if you show us your bruises.”

“No.”

“Forty thousand if you strip naked and dance.”

“No.”

“You shouldn’t have struggled. It excited him.”

He knew about Phoenix. Bruno stood behind him. Oh God, he
was
Aleksei’s boss.
She swallowed hard. “I always fight when people do objectionable things.”

“Perhaps we should have a demonstration.”

“Lay one finger on me and I’ll kill you.” She almost wanted him to provoke her into attacking him.

Petrenko spat a mouthful of vodka onto his chest as he laughed. “Go back to him then. He does like his leggy blondes. You won’t last. None of them have. How many is this, Aleksei? Ten?”

Katya made sure she didn’t react. “Can you swim?”

“Why? Going to push me overboard?”

Yes.
“I was considering one of those ethical dilemmas. If the boat was sinking and there weren’t enough life jackets, how we’d decide who should have one.”

“I decide and if you want one you’d better start being nice to me.”

“I’m nice to Aleksei. It’s his boat,” she snapped.

Her heart pounded as she went back up the ladder.

“Do you have a death wish?” he asked.

“Is he your boss?”

Aleksei didn’t answer.

Even in the midday heat, she sank into ice.
One of his leggy blondes.

It seemed to Katya that fishing involved long periods of doing nothing punctuated by bursts of loud and intense excitement. Not her idea of fun but the others enjoyed it. No one but her seemed to sense trouble coming, though Aleksei was quiet.

At one point Petrenko opened champagne and held it over Natasha’s mouth, tipping it down her throat and over her face. Anna put her mouth under Natasha’s chin and licked the top of her breasts. Beth pressed her face between Anna’s thighs. Sylvie joined in. Petrenko beckoned Katya, and she curled up by Aleksei’s legs.

They caught fish and lost them again. A sense of doom compressed her lungs. She might never see Petrenko after today. There were knives in the galley, but she didn’t think she could stab him. She couldn’t even bring herself to ask him about Galya. But she felt the truth in her heart.

The dark-eyed Colombians produced several packets of white powder and sat talking with Petrenko, Bruno still at his back. Drug smuggling would get him a long prison sentence. Was that worse than death? If she wanted to find out information to give the police, maybe she should be flirting.

Only she couldn’t. If she opened her mouth, nothing pleasant would come out.

Kirill sat inside the cabin watching a Jackie Chan movie. He had no interest in drugs. No interest in fishing. Or drinking. There would be no trouble from the Colombians. They were anxious to do business with Viktor. Bruno was doing his job and watching out for Viktor’s safety.

Apart from Bruno, Aleksei and Katya, the others had no self-control. They were drunk and high. Earlier, Viktor had taken Beth and Sylvie into one of the cabins and Kirill heard them fucking. Sylvie yelped and squealed like a pig. The Colombians played with Anna, sandwiching her between them. Natasha stuck like a limpet to Constantine. As usual, Aleksei stayed out of everything. Then there was Katya who’d drunk no alcohol and taken no coke. She rarely left Aleksei’s side. But if she was the one Viktor chose, Aleksei couldn’t save her.

When Aleksei raised an awning so they could sit in the shade, Kirill left the cabin. Viktor had taken off his shirt. His upper body was a mass of tattoos, a mixture of animals and inanimate objects. A tree made of skeletons grew up his spine. At the top an eagle crushed angels in its talons. A naked woman hung in chains on his left arm, a lightning bolt above her head. On his right, a woman was impaled on a cross with cats leaping around her. Not beautiful but every mark had significance.

“Admiring my artwork, ladies?” Viktor asked.

“Yes,” Anna, Sylvie and Natasha said, at the same time that Katya said, “No.”

Kirill heard Aleksei swear and smiled.

“It’s amazing,” Anna said. “You’re a walking art gallery.”

Viktor turned to Natasha and raised his eyebrows.

“The wolf’s…cute,” she said.

“Cute?” Viktor growled.

“It…it looks real,” Natasha blustered. “I mean, I like tattoos. Look, I have one.” She pulled down the bottom of her bikini to reveal a blue butterfly on her butt.

Viktor snorted. “Katya, what do you think of my tattoos?”

“Unattractive,” she said.

Kirill leaned against the bulkhead and crossed his arms.

“Are you trying to upset me?” Viktor snapped.

“Your tattoos are designed to intimidate. The overall effect is frightening rather than aesthetically pleasing which I would imagine was your intention. The images are primitive, not done in a tattoo parlor. It gives such a false impression of your personality. How would anyone looking at those know what a cuddly bear you really are?”

Constantine laughed so hard he started to cough.

“Katya,” Aleksei said. “Get more beer and cut out your tongue while you’re in there.”

Kirill followed her. He’d never met a woman like her before, one who was rude to Viktor.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Katya asked him.

He shook his head.

“I noticed you don’t want alcohol. I could make tea or coffee if you’d prefer.”

“No, but thank you for asking.”

Kirill could be polite. Viktor had asked if he knew her. She looked familiar but he’d never seen her before. He wanted her to look at him so he could read her eyes. Was there anything of his Mama in there? He took off his long sleeved T-shirt. She didn’t hear him come up behind her and when she turned, she jumped. It disappointed him.

“What do you think of my tattoos?”

He rarely asked anyone’s opinion. He wasn’t interested in what others thought, apart from Viktor, but was curious to see what she’d say. He watched her eyes follow the pattern of animal images blending into one another over his chest. The tattooist said they were like a malevolent Escher drawing. Kirill had looked up Escher on the internet and liked the comparison. Viktor’s tattoos were created in prison by fellow inmates using whatever materials came to hand. Kirill’s had been hygienically acquired in St Petersburg and Chicago.

“Reminds me of an artist called Escher,” Katya said.

He smiled.

“They’re brilliant. Can I touch them?”

He stiffened, surprised again, and nodded. Katya ran her fingers along his forearm, tracing a lizard that morphed into a snake, then to a fish. Unused to anyone’s touch, he trembled where her fingers lingered and the images rippled, making the creatures come alive for a moment. As she slid her fingers across his collarbone he turned to show her his back and she gasped. It held an eagle like Petrenko’s, but far more intricate, the talons sharp and empty.

Kirill spotted Aleksei watching from the companionway, his mouth pulled into an inflexible line.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Katya said. “Very beautiful.”

Aleksei snatched a beer from the counter and pulled her back outside. Katya kicked his shin and he yelped.

“I was talking,” she snapped.

Kirill liked that she had a spark. He wondered what it would take to pinch it out. Could be fun, particularly if Aleksei didn’t want him to.