Into the Flame (33 page)
‘‘A few.’’ Rurik helped him walk from the bed to the wheelchair. ‘‘Why?’’
‘‘The Varinskis have been gathering out there for what? A day? Yet no move on the house. Why not? We appear virtually defenseless. Four women, three Varinski men in the prime of their lives, but only three, and me, an invalid in a wheelchair.’’
‘‘And Aleksandr,’’ Rurik said.
‘‘And Aleksandr,’’ Konstantine agreed.
‘‘Papa, shouldn’t we send the little one away?’’ Rurik checked the gauge on the oxygen tank that hung from the back of the chair.
Konstantine patted Rurik’s troubled face. ‘‘My son, there is no safe place. Not even here, but better he should stay with us, with the people he loves, than go to strangers and there to die. For they will hunt him. They will kill him. Varinskis are very thorough.’’
‘‘I know, Papa.’’
‘‘Your brother’’—Konstantine gestured toward the phone—‘‘your long-lost brother just passed us information we must utilize. The Varinskis will attack us today.’’ He placed the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and took a long breath. He was reserving his strength, for when the time came, he
would
beat the Varinskis.
would
beat the Varinskis.
He had no choice.
‘‘They’re waiting only for their leader, and perhaps reinforcements.’’
‘‘You don’t think we should wait,’’ Rurik surmised.
‘‘Surprise is always a good element in a battle.’’ Konstantine leaned toward his son and stage-whispered, ‘‘If you can get me a detonator, I promise I can surprise them.’’
He told Rurik his plan, and while his son chuckled, Konstantine preened. Obviously, he hadn’t yet lost the old gift for strategy.
Their second line rang.
Rurik and Konstantine exchanged glances. More bad news?
Zorana stepped out of the bathroom, a towel on her head, her face gleaming and damp. ‘‘Who is
that
?’’
that
?’’
Rurik looked down at their caller ID. ‘‘The When You Are Wicked Diner?’’ He punched the button to open the line on the speakerphone.
The woman on the phone said, ‘‘It’s Firebird.’’
Konstantine flinched. He hadn’t heard that anguish in his daughter’s voice since he’d last questioned her about Aleksandr’s father.
Zorana hurried toward the phone, ready to take command of the conversation.
Konstantine waved her into silence. ‘‘What is wrong, little one?’’
‘‘Papa.’’ Firebird took a long, wobbly breath. ‘‘Papa. There’s nothing wrong. Nothing that hasn’t been wrong for a long, long time. Aleksandr is well?’’
‘‘Very well,’’ Konstantine said.
‘‘My baby . . .’’ Firebird took another breath. ‘‘I suppose you probably figured some of this out, but I left to find Aleksandr’s father. I did. His name is Douglas Black, and he is also your missing son. I didn’t realize that before, of course, I thought he was a Varinski who had tracked me down and seduced me for information about my family. About the Wilders.’’
Konstantine cracked his knuckles and considered the first lesson he would teach his newfound son— if he lived through the beating the Varinskis were now inflicting on him.
Firebird continued, ‘‘It turns out I was more right then I realized.
Douglas
. . . Douglas Black sold us out to the Varinskis.’’
Douglas
. . . Douglas Black sold us out to the Varinskis.’’
‘‘No!’’ Zorana took a step toward the phone.
‘‘Before I knew that, I gave him information. About us. I’m sorry, Papa.’’ Firebird’s voice broke. ‘‘I’m so sorry.’’
Konstantine was sorry, too. Sorry that one of his own would betray his family. Sorry that she had suffered for it.
‘‘Excuses can be made,’’ Rurik murmured.
‘‘There are no excuses for immorality,’’ Konstantine said coldly.
Before he could tell Firebird the truth—that
Douglas
was getting the snot kicked out of him by his erstwhile allies—she added, ‘‘But listen. This is the important part. I’m coming home.’’
Douglas
was getting the snot kicked out of him by his erstwhile allies—she added, ‘‘But listen. This is the important part. I’m coming home.’’
‘‘No,’’ Konstantine said in alarm. ‘‘Stay where you are. I start the battle this morning.’’
‘‘I have to come home, Papa. I’ve got the fourth icon.’’
Konstantine wanted to shout with joy. He wanted to weep with horror.
His daughter, the baby he had dandled on his knee, had in her possession the fourth icon. The fourth icon! The one icon that would unite the others and break the pact with the devil.
‘‘I know it’s supposed to come to the one your son loves, but Douglas doesn’t love anyone, so I suppose it came to the one your son
screwed
.’’ Firebird spit the word. ‘‘So the prophecy is correct in its way.’’
screwed
.’’ Firebird spit the word. ‘‘So the prophecy is correct in its way.’’
They had no time for bitterness. Konstantine said, ‘‘Firebird, you are right. There is no choice. You do have to come home.’’ For she was now in more danger than any of them.
Rurik stepped close to the phone. ‘‘Where are you?’’
‘‘In Rocky Cliffs, in the When You Are Wicked Diner.’’ Now that she’d delivered her message, she was sniffling.
When Rurik spoke, he used his Air Force-captain command voice to snap her out of it. ‘‘Firebird, is there someplace you can meet me? Someplace flat?’’
‘‘Um. Yeah. Yes!’’ She sounded startled. ‘‘I can drive north toward
Shoalwater
State Park
. There’s a parking lot there.’’
Shoalwater
State Park
. There’s a parking lot there.’’
‘‘Perfect. I’ll be there in less than an hour.’’
‘‘In less than an hour?’’ She sounded confused and heartsore. ‘‘But—’’
‘‘Get out of there
now
, before they track you down,’’ Konstantine added.
now
, before they track you down,’’ Konstantine added.
They heard the click as she replaced the phone.
Zorana grabbed Rurik’s arm. ‘‘Bring her home. Somehow, bring her home.’’
‘‘I will, Mama.’’ Rurik patted her hand, then turned toward the door.
Adrik ran in, smiling savagely. ‘‘Ann got it. I know where our long-lost brother is, and I’m going after him.’’
‘‘Make sure some of the Varinskis follow you,’’ Konstantine said. ‘‘And make sure they don’t come back!’’
‘‘Yes, Papa,’’ the boys chorused.
Rurik hooked his elbow around Adrik’s neck. ‘‘Come with me.’’
‘‘Come with you?’’ Adrik snorted. ‘‘I’ll drive. I’m faster.’’
‘‘Yes, you can drive us to the airfield,’’ Rurik answered.
Adrik stopped, narrow-eyed and wary. ‘‘What are we going to do at the airfield?’’
Rurik said words guaranteed to put pride in a father’s heart. ‘‘We’re going to steal a helicopter.’’
Chapter Thirty
Doug didn’t know how long the Varinskis had been cutting on him. It seemed like days. It was probably no more than an hour, because the sun still hadn’t risen above the horizon. But if he had to say one thing they did well, it was torture. They had hefted him up onto the hood of his patrol car, gotten out the pocketknives, and gone to work. They cut off his shirt and one of his nipples. They probed between his ribs. And he didn’t even want to think about what they’d done to his hands.
Blood, when it started to dry, got very sticky. And Doug wondered what Yamashita was going to say about the big red stain on the car. Did the enzymes in blood ruin a paint job?
Foka stuck his face close to Doug’s and in his heavily accented voice said, ‘‘I am bored with you. I am bored with your resistance.’’
‘‘I’m not resisting. I told you. I sold the icon to the Wilders.’’
Idly, Doug wondered how many bones they’d broken. Other than his knee, his ribs, and his hand, he was feeling pretty good. Of course, that might be because the loss of blood was shutting down his brain. . . .
‘‘Vadim doesn’t believe you. He said you are greedy. He said there are other bidders out there who would have paid more. He sssaid you haven’t had time to get your bids.’’ Foka leaned his ugly face close. ‘‘There are other body partsss Goga can cut off.’’
Goga grinned and nodded.
‘‘Onesss that hurt worssse than a little finger. Do you know what they are?’’ Foka asked.
Doug knew exactly what they were. He lifted his head off the windshield. Smiled insolently at the ugly trio, and especially at Foka. ‘‘Are you one of those guys? The ones who love to play with another guy’s family jewels?’’
‘‘Koshka,’’
Foka hissed, and when he did, the pupils in his eyes changed from round to up-and-down slits.
Foka hissed, and when he did, the pupils in his eyes changed from round to up-and-down slits.
‘‘
I’m
a piece of shit? This from a guy who not only likes to play with another guy’s jewels, but really likes it when they’re
his
family jewels, too?’’
I’m
a piece of shit? This from a guy who not only likes to play with another guy’s jewels, but really likes it when they’re
his
family jewels, too?’’
Foka gestured to Goga.
Goga slammed his fist into Doug’s gut.
Great. A little soft-tissue damage, too.
When he finished gagging, he thought the roaring in his ears would subside. It didn’t. It grew louder and louder. Then a whirlwind struck, filling the air with dirt and cedar, and a light as bright as the sun blinded him.
It wasn’t his imagination, either, or the onset of death. The Varinskis were shielding their eyes and shouting in dismay.
God had arrived to exact his vengeance on them all.
Then a voice at the edge of the light spoke, and Doug knew it wasn’t God.
It said, ‘‘You shits are going to be sorry for picking on my brother.’’
Doug couldn’t believe it. His family had arrived, and in a helicopter, no less.
A panther, black as the night, leaped onto the two wolf-guys, slashing one across the face, snapping the other’s neck with a single bite.
Doug rolled off the hood, taking Foka down with him, and as they fell, Doug pulled the pistol from Foka’s belt and blasted him right through his cold lizard guts.
He figured he had five shots left, and as he rolled out from behind the car, he emptied every round into his tormentors.
‘‘Come on. C’mon!’’ Firebird paced beside the car, biting her nails down to the quicks. With every step, she was aware of the icon tucked beneath her bra against her heart.
Once she’d found it, she’d gotten out of that house at top speed. She hadn’t hesitated to take the Glock, or
Douglas
’s car, either. She needed power if she was going to get this icon home without interference from Douglas and his Varinskis. The stop in Rocky Cliffs had been brief, long enough to call home, and the drive to
Shoalwater
State Park
had been nerve-racking.
Douglas
’s car, either. She needed power if she was going to get this icon home without interference from Douglas and his Varinskis. The stop in Rocky Cliffs had been brief, long enough to call home, and the drive to
Shoalwater
State Park
had been nerve-racking.
She glanced around again. ‘‘C’mon, Rurik.’’
She hadn’t wanted to stop in the empty parking lot filled with mounds of soggy leaves and faded white lines painted on black asphalt. She had wanted to keep driving, to get as far away from
Douglas
as she could. She didn’t want to face him, and not merely because he’d murder her, although that was a pretty good reason. No, she couldn’t bear to watch him smirk at having so cleverly fooled her into betraying her family—and giving him a blow job while she did it.
Douglas
as she could. She didn’t want to face him, and not merely because he’d murder her, although that was a pretty good reason. No, she couldn’t bear to watch him smirk at having so cleverly fooled her into betraying her family—and giving him a blow job while she did it.
Where was Rurik? What did he think he was doing? She could have driven Doug’s Beemer home in four hours, or five if the traffic was bad, and as long as she didn’t get stopped too many times by the state patrol, and as long as Doug hadn’t reported his car as stolen.
The lousy son of a bitch.
He probably had. Had probably demanded she be arrested for shooting off his lock. If he realized how gleefully she would shoot off his—
The
chop-chop-chop
of helicopter blades interrupted her pleasant musing. It was coming fast, getting louder by the moment. She looked north along the shore, and there it was, black and white, silver and red, coming fast, dusting the treetops, creating a whirlwind of debris. The aircraft hovered over the parking lot, then gently came to rest on the asphalt. The passenger door opened, and she looked across the seat to Rurik gesturing her in. She ran, head down, as the blades chopped the air, blasting her until she settled in the seat. Before she’d even buckled in, he lifted off, straight up into the air, and once she was secure, he set a course east and north, flying fast.
chop-chop-chop
of helicopter blades interrupted her pleasant musing. It was coming fast, getting louder by the moment. She looked north along the shore, and there it was, black and white, silver and red, coming fast, dusting the treetops, creating a whirlwind of debris. The aircraft hovered over the parking lot, then gently came to rest on the asphalt. The passenger door opened, and she looked across the seat to Rurik gesturing her in. She ran, head down, as the blades chopped the air, blasting her until she settled in the seat. Before she’d even buckled in, he lifted off, straight up into the air, and once she was secure, he set a course east and north, flying fast.
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