The Spy Wore Red (4 page)

“What kind of woman marries a man with no remorse or morals?”

“One who loves him, I suppose.”

“Or perhaps one who has been kept in the dark all these years. But then that would make her unbelievably stupid or very smart. Holic is a wealthy man. His debauchery affords her an excessive lifestyle.”

“She is neither stupid nor a woman who sanctions debauchery.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that’s so.”

“Because you know her so well, right? If you say yes, you would be the only one. She’s as elusive as he is.” When she didn’t answer him, he said, “I wonder if love is worth it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said she loves him.”

“No, I said
maybe
she loves him.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then his death could be a celebration.”

“And if she does love him?”

“The gift of freedom can be a wonderful present to an imprisoned soul.”

“You don’t believe in fate, then?”

“Living a life determined by fate is for passive dreamers who lack the confidence to embrace change and make healthy choices.”

“Is that your definition of Holic’s mystery wife?”

“Mady Reznik is not a dreamer. She’s a brave woman, caught in a storm of circumstance.”

Mady…
Bjorn’s memory zeroed in on the name. In Reznik’s file there was no information on the woman he had married. Nothing, but that he had a wife and a child. He said, “They had a kid, right?”

“She was named Prisca after her grandmother. I’ve often wondered if she is fair and slight like her mother, or if she’s tall with hair as dark as her father’s black locks.”

The comment convinced Bjorn that Nadja knew things no one else knew. Why was that? Or maybe a better question to ask was, who was Nadja Stefn before she became Quest’s bedroom assassin?

She glanced at the third monitor, and her interest made Bjorn look, too. Merrick was telling Polax that they should start without Q because her presence wasn’t necessary to conclude the meeting.

Nadja motioned to the high-tech silver phone on Polax’s desk. “Pick it up, Agent Odell. Ring Polax. There’s a similar phone in the conclave. When he picks it up, ask to speak to your commander. Tell him you’ve changed your mind. Tell him you’ve decided on the blonde with the cotton-candy ass.”

Bjorn hated to admit it, but he’d be a fool not to take her with him. If she could pinpoint Holic Reznik’s hideout, then that would put him back on schedule. Possibly ahead of schedule.

“Pick up the phone, Bjorn. Tell your commander you’ve had a change of heart. Tell him you’ve decided to carry around a spring-loaded cock after all.” Her eyes found his crotch. “And here I was worried that you might have injured yourself in Vienna. It’s a relief to know there wasn’t any permanent damage.”

Merrick was standing now, clearing his throat to deliver Bjorn’s choice. Without further delay, Bjorn picked up the phone and pressed the red button on the panel labeled “Conclave.”

Polax’s voice sounded. “Yes, who is this?”

“It’s Bjorn Odell. Put Merrick on.”

“But we’re in the middle of—”

“I know what you’re in the middle of. I’m watching from a monitor in your office. Put Merrick on the phone.”

“A moment.”

When the phone was pressed to Merrick’s ear, Bjorn said, “The blonde is the better choice. Tell Polax to get Q ready to fly. Tell him—” Bjorn’s eyes locked with Nadja’s “—she’ll need plenty of wool panties to keep her sweet ass warm. The temperatures have been in the deep-freeze there in the past few days.”

The minute he hit the button and disconnected the call, she said, “Very good, Agent Odell. Now turn around and face the wall.”

“What?”

“Do it.” She aimed the Springfield at his heart. “Turn around and face the wall.”

He turned and faced the wall just as Merrick announced that Nadja Stefn would be joining the Onyxx mission to Austria. A second later the scent of Alpine heather told him she had come up behind him. She leaned in, and her full breasts pressed into his back. Her gun hand moved over his hip, then down his thigh, letting him feel the hard steel against his leg. She took her time, moved across his thigh and stroked his crotch with the short barrel of her pearl-handled .45—worked his cock until it was stiff.

“It’s chilly in the Alps,” she whispered close to his ear. “Wool panties are a good idea. Better pack an extra sock for yourself. You wouldn’t want to freeze off anything you can’t live without. The airport at midnight, then.
Auf bald.
”

Bjorn left the Vysehrad Museum cursing his crystal-clear memory, and the snow that had gotten worse throughout the day. He hated winter. The cold shriveled your dick and made you aware of all your aches and pains. Reminded you of your vulnerability. It made him feel old, and then not old enough because he could still remember what it felt like to be alone and cold.

To be a hungry snot-nosed kid on the streets of Copenhagen.

Still, he didn’t hail a cab, opting to walk instead to his hotel in Old Town even though the chill in the air was bone deep. In his room he spent time at the window thinking about Holic, then thinking about Nadja. She had looked amazing today. Curvy and beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.

At six o’clock he joined Merrick in the dining room at the hotel and they shared an evening meal. When the waiter arrived, he ordered a gin martini while his commander requested his favored bottle of Glen Moray. Over food and drink they finalized the last details of the mission. Before Bjorn left the dining room to return to his room, he ordered a bottle of gin to take along with him.

It was nine when he arrived back in his hotel room. More time was spent at the window, more time remembering her, while he smoked half a pack of cigarettes.

He packed after that, and just before he zipped his duffel bag closed, he took a second look inside, his eyes lingering on his socks.

Better pack an extra sock for yourself. You wouldn’t want to freeze off anything you can’t live without.

Chapter 4

H
e was going to make it. But then, he had known he would. Holic Reznik smiled even though he felt like shit. But he would eventually feel better. By tomorrow he would be warm and safe, sleeping in a familiar bed, waking up to familiar surroundings.

He used the image of a crackling fire and sweet-smelling pillows to put one foot in front of the other as he came out of the alley. The black SUV had pulled to the curb and he could see the driver’s blond hair through the window.

Mady was on time.

The significance in that made his smile widen. His wife had never let him down. Not ever. Why would she? Mady loved him. Would forever love him, no matter what.

And because she loved him she would do whatever he asked of her.

That was why he had married her. Not because he had loved her above all else, or because she was curvy and had a nice ass and firm tits.

The real reason he’d married her was her loyalty. Loyalty was everything. He had only to snap his fingers and she would be there ready to give her life for his if he asked it of her. Even though she knew about his mistresses.

It hardly mattered, though. Her loyalty was not contingent on his. Mady knew her place in his life. Knew that it was a man’s privilege to take what he wanted—as much as he wanted, and as often as he felt like it.

Mady had known that from the beginning. Had known that he answered to no one but himself. Knew that whatever he desired, he would take.

Right now what he desired was to be out of the cold and in a hot bath, then a warm bed. He’d been on the run for three days and his hand hurt like a son of a bitch. He was hungry and tired, and anxious to have his wife tend to all of his needs, one at a time.

He pulled the drab gray stocking cap lower over his forehead as he left the alley behind. The dirty black coat he wore, he’d stolen only moments ago off the dead man who slumped against the brick building with his throat slit.

He didn’t hurry as he headed toward the SUV. The pain attacking his muscles made every step challenging, but then he’d always been up for a good challenge. Still, he was in bad shape. Possibly the worst he’d ever been in.

His body was on fire, burning up with fever. He steeled himself against the dizziness that threatened to knock him to his knees.

Four feet from the vehicle, the door swung open. He ducked his head and eased into the front seat. He bumped his useless hand and swore crudely.

The word
useless
filled him with a surge of rage, followed by the need for revenge. An assassin with a useless hand may as well turn the gun on himself—but he wasn’t going to. Instead he was going to find and kill the man responsible.

Bjorn Odell was going to die screaming. Die screaming while he cut him apart with a dull ice pick and fed him to a dog with a fork.

Mady reached across him and pulled the door shut. As she eased back behind the wheel, he caught the sweet scent of her. She smelled like lavender and a hint of lemon.

He studied her delicate features within the folds of her ugly brown scarf a shade darker than her wool coat. He had instructed her to dress warm, to borrow Jakob’s SUV, and to come alone. She had done all three.

For a woman of thirty-six, Mady still had a youthful pixie face, and the blond hair peeking out of her scarf held no signs of gray. It was still a natural honey color, and as silky smooth as the day he married her.

“Drive,” Holic demanded. Then he added, “You didn’t tell anyone I was back, did you?”

“
Nein.
Not even Prisca. She will be excited, though. For weeks she has been asking when you were going to come for a visit. Are you sure you want to go to Groffen?”

“I’m sure.”

She put the vehicle into drive. “We’re very busy. It’s the height of the season. What if—?”

“Someone sees me? You forget I can disguise myself easily if necessary.”

“Why did you want me to meet you here in St. Anton, then? Why not Kitzbuhel or—”

“I have my reasons. Did you ready my suite? The one I requested?”

“I did.”

“Then there is nothing to worry about. If I must flee, I will take flight. I always have a backup plan.”

“Prisca will be so happy to see you.”

“I do not want her to see me for a few days,” Holic grumbled. “Not until I’m better.”

“Your daughter will not care what shape you are in. Only that you have come home. And for once I think it will be good for her to see that you are human. You have filled her head with grand stories. She talks of you like you are a hero in a fairy tale.”

“There is nothing wrong with that. She will never know the truth.”

“I know the truth and I still love you.”

“You are a rare breed, Mady. Some would say stupid, others would say blindly loyal.”

“I’m neither stupid nor blind. You have seen to both. What I am is a woman cursed to love one man for all time.”

They left the town of St. Anton behind, and as they began to head toward Zell am See, Holic asked, “How is she? Is my daughter well?”

“Prisca has grown into a beautiful young woman. Otto Breit has come home from Graz often, and swears that one day he’ll take her away with him.”

“He is ten years older. Too old for my Pris.”

“She’s nineteen. I was seventeen when you took me.”

Holic scowled. “What are you saying, that Otto Breit is sleeping with my daughter?”

“Nein.”

“Good, ’cause if he is I will kill him, no matter if he is my friend’s son.”

“If you confine your daughter, she will grow restless. She must experience life. She is very smart and I trust her judgment. She needs something to nurture.”

“Not a babe.”

“No, I didn’t mean a child, but something that she can be proud of. A career of some kind. We could send her to school.”

“I will think on it. Speaking of nurturing, how is the runt? Is your brother’s bastard still amusing Kovar?”

“Her name is Alzbet, Holic. And,
da,
she is still at the lodge. Kovar is teaching her to ski. Though she suffers from a cold at the moment. But don’t worry, I will keep her away from you. You don’t need a cold to compound everything else. What is wrong with your hand? You never told me when you called.”

“A few broken bones is all. My hand will heal.” Holic set his jaw at the thought of his hand remaining useless. Bjorn Odell would pay either way.

He glanced out the window to the rugged countryside. He hadn’t been back in Austria for months, and he realized he had missed it.

“Did you get the package I sent you six weeks ago?”

“Da.”

“And did you follow my instructions?”

“I bought the computer, and the money is in the safe at Groffen, along with the canister.”

“Did you bring me a gun?”

“You know I hate guns.”

“Did you bring it?”

“Yes.”

Holic smiled. “Is it loaded?”

She glanced his way and frowned. “Of course it’s loaded. It would do you no good if it wasn’t.”

“My thoughts exactly. And just where might this gun be hiding, Mady?”

With his good arm, he reached across the seat and slid his hand into her coat. He saw her suck in her breath as his fingers brushed over her breasts, then moved low over her belly and between her legs.

“
Bitte,
Holic. Not while I’m driving. It is reckless and—”

“Shh… I will touch you whenever, Mady, and wherever. You know I will. Now drive and stay on the road.”

“The gun is in my coat pocket,” she offered, as if that was going to stop him from his intent.

“A good place for it, for now,” he said, finding the zipper on her jeans. Ten minutes later, he removed his hand from her underwear, pulled the dead man’s hat off his head and tossed it in the back seat.

His long hair hung limp and damp with fever, slightly diminishing his well-noted rugged handsomeness. But he was still a virile specimen of male masculinity and he knew it—after all, he had the look of a pirate and the reputation to go along with it.

He reclined the seat and relaxed, the scent of Mady and her spent climax hanging in the close quarters inside the vehicle. When a shiver took him, Mady flipped the switch on the heater and a blast of warm air filled the front seat.

He was just beginning to doze off when he felt her hand on his forehead. If he wasn’t mistaken, the SUV picked up speed after that, and he smiled again with the knowledge that she did love him no matter what he did.

As the miles came and went his thoughts turned to Groffen. They would arrive sometime tomorrow. Mady would get him there, he had no doubt. After all, she had taken a vow to obey her husband.

Loyalty then…it was the most powerful insurance a man could own. Mady was one of two people he could trust—she and Pris. Yes, his daughter loved him as much as Mady did. But unlike her mother, Pris wasn’t afraid of guns.

A smile touched his dry lips and suddenly he had the answer to his daughter’s dilemma, and possibly his own. Pris had the patience for it, and she valued perfection. Those were an assassin’s two best friends.

Nadja stood below a spotlight a hundred yards from the Learjet that sat on the tarmac at Prague’s Praha Ruzyne Airport. It was almost midnight and what gear she had packed fit into a compact carry-on. Whatever else she required she would purchase once she arrived in Austria.

A sharp wind blew out of the west, carrying more snow. Nadja wrapped her red cashmere cape closer to her body.

The weather forecast had predicted a major snowstorm for the Alpine region. It would be good for the ski lodges, but not for much else. It could easily bring the mission to a halt for days at a time if the storm stalled out in the mountains.

“Our reputations, yours and mine, are riding on the success of this mission, Q. Do whatever is necessary to complete it as planned. Understand?”

“
Da
. Holic will die after the kill-file is recovered.”

Polax nodded. “This mission could be tougher than anything you’ve come up against so far. You’re working with one of Merrick’s best. Trust that, and his ability to back you up. He’s damn good.”

Yes he was, Nadja thought.

“What’s in the file?” she asked.

“Names of agents and powerful people the Chameleon wanted executed. So you see why we must retrieve it. Questions, Q? You look like there’s something on your mind. Ask it, so we can get this mission under way.”

“Are we concerned that Quest agents are on that list?”

“We know it’s likely, but not who or how many. Again I’ll say there is a lot at stake here, Q. This mission is going to demand more of you than rhythm, a little moaning and good aim.”

Nadja picked up on something in his voice and suddenly asked, “You wanted me on this mission, didn’t you?”

“Of course. Except for your adversity to cold weather, you are the best agent for this job.”

“But…”

“But why did I suggest Lenova over you? Men like Merrick and Odell don’t like being told what they need. They believe they already know.”

“It was a gamble,” she said, knowing if she hadn’t showed up in his office and faced Bjorn she wouldn’t be taking the trip.

“Not to worry, Q. I always have a backup plan. There are, however, risks. You don’t need to get caught in the middle of a storm, so don’t. Don’t forget your limitations. You know what they are and how vulnerable they can make you.” Polax pulled a phone out of his pocket. “This will make it possible to reach me if you have to, but only if it’s urgent. It’s my newest invention. No one knows about it yet, so it’ll be our little secret. It’s a phone, a computer and a little more.”

He showed her the miniature plastic explosives behind a hidden compartment. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that they’re too small to do the damage. One charge can put a six-foot hole in a wall ten seconds after detonation. Ingenious, yes?”

“Ingenious.” Nadja took Polax’s latest invention and slipped it into the inside pocket of her cape.

“I’ve loaded the necessary data you’ll need into the computer chip. It can be accessed by using your PIN number. The data includes information on your partner, and the target. There’s a high-frequency text messenger for fast communication with me. It’s useless to anyone who doesn’t know the codes, so if you lose the phone, Quest won’t be compromised. But at the cost of two million a phone, try not to lose it, Q.”

“No, sir.”

“One more thing. Normally I would tell you not to trifle with a man of Holic’s caliber, but as I said before, whatever it takes to recover the file is acceptable. Make the most of every opportunity. You’ve proven that there isn’t a man alive who can resist your charms. It’s your trademark, after all. Love ’em and leave ’em…dead, Q. Good luck.”

Polax remained beneath the glowing security lamp when Nadja started across the tarmac toward the Learjet. She boarded the jet with false composure, but no one would have been able to tell. Since seeing Bjorn in the corridor at Quest she’d started to play the what-if game. A deadly game she rarely indulged in. But truthfully, seeing Bjorn today had shaken her.

Luckily she’d been able to fall back on her professional training. She’d managed to play the aggressor in Polax’s office. She hadn’t dared to show any weakness.

Six years ago when she’d joined Quest, she’d had no idea what she was letting herself in for. But she’d soon accepted her role. What choice did she have? She’d become single-minded: do her job—cancel the man beneath her—then return to headquarters. She’d followed the rules without question in Vienna. The bedroom assassin had found her quarry, canceled her target, and was on her way out of the city—when she realized she was being followed.

That’s why she’d slipped into the
keller,
and Bjorn had come to her rescue in the alley.

She hadn’t needed him to save her. But he had saved her that night in a very private way, and damned her, too.

The truth was, he knew the level of her passion. He knew how she looked naked. How long her legs were and the shape of her breasts. And he knew where she liked to be touched most, and to what degree. He knew where his lips could do the most damage. Knew she had a secret spot on her body that could render her helpless.