To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series) (50 page)

Trevor flashed him a mischievous grin. “Don’t be. You just gave me a brilliant idea. Follow my lead.” He leaned heavily against Dmitriy and cried out in Russian, slurring his words. “Vodka! More vodka! Where is my bottle?” He shifted his head in Tatiana’s direction and narrowed his eyes. “Are you hiding it?”

Tatiana caught on quickly and did what she could to further their ruse. “You, my brother, have had enough. We need to get you home so you can sleep it off.”

“Come,” Dmitriy urged, leading a stumbling Trevor in the direction of the metro.

At the counter, Dmitriy pulled out his wallet and was about to hand the cashier his credit card when Trevor gripped his hand. “No,” Trevor whispered in English.

“What do you mean? We need to pay to get in.”

“I know. No credit cards. They can trace that. I’m sure one of the hackers working for your uncle could. Use cash.”

Understanding shone in Dmitriy’s eyes for a second before dismay took over. “I have no cash on me.” Panic flooded his expression. “How are we going to get out of here now?”

Trevor had the emergency train and bus passes in his back pocket, but they were useless. There was no way he could make it without Dmitriy and Tatiana’s help, and he wouldn’t leave them behind, even if he could.

Trevor’s shoulder throbbed, numbness setting in, and perspiration soaked the back of his shirt. The wound needed attention soon or he could develop an infection. While the pain wasn’t as bad as before, it still made him grit his teeth each time he was jostled.

Trevor hissed low through his teeth in Russian, “We need to get out of St. Petersburg. I—we—need to head North.”

Tatiana considered his words for a second and a gleam of excitement bled into her eyes. “The Udelnaya flea market! I know several of the vendors there. The majority of them live outside of St. Petersburg. I bet we can find a ride out of here with one of them.”

The idea of being tossed around in the back of a truck was not appealing, but it was the best idea they had at that moment. Nobody would think to look for them in a flea market truck heading out of town.

Dmitriy had come to the same conclusion because he turned on his heels. “The market is this way.” Tatiana looked at Dmitriy in surprise. He shrugged and added, “I followed you a few times to make sure you were safe. I was worried.” She grinned and squeezed his hand.

Witnessing their small intimate moment pinched at Trevor’s heart, reminding him of Cassandra and his need to see her, touch her again. Leaning heavily on the two, Trevor sucked in a deep breath and nodded to Tatiana. “Lead the way.”

*****

Nikol’s emotions were in turmoil. One moment she was cozily embedded in Mikhailov’s organization, earning a position to take him and her true target down. The next, she was in the middle of a full-fledged gun battle having to protect her back against friend—if that was what she could call Mikhailov’s trusted guards—and foe alike.

She had lost sight of Sergei when the first shots sounded and chaos ensued. Nikol wasn’t impressed by the firepower the two gangs had built over the years. She had lived long enough amongst them to understand their capabilities and the reach of their influence in society, not to mention how fiercely they defended their territory.

As much as the unexpected tumult was detrimental to her goal, it could possibly move her closer to success in her venture. The target of her operation was the server room—the only room to which she still didn’t have access. Crouched in the library, armed to the teeth, Nikol regrouped and headed off in its direction, hoping that in the middle of the melee the guards had been sloppy in their supervision of the door.

Loud bangs and pops reverberated from several points in the property, and the air reeked of gunpowder as she scurried down the hallway to the server room. She carefully checked her perimeter and slowly climbed down the stairs, holding her stance in the event someone was still down there. Her heart soared at seeing the mainframe. She was so close to the treasure it contained she could taste success, taste the pleasure of having all those idiots who thought she wasn’t good enough choke on their tongues.

Finding the computer that had direct access to the mainframe, she tried to pull up the files stored in it. Nothing. Everything had been erased.

“Damn it!” Someone had deleted the evidence she needed to bring
him
down. Nikol stood and kicked the chair in a burst of anger, sending it scattering across the room. She would have to find another way. She had collected some already, but the files would be icing on the cake and seal the deal without argument.

Sergei. He had just become the key to getting more evidence. Back in the hall, Nikol made her way to the great room, the last place she had seen him, and, as she passed a window, caught sight of him running toward the back of the property as if the bats of hell were on his heels. Cutting through the kitchen, she sprinted through the disarray and out the back door, scrambling through the bushes in the direction he had taken.

Nikol hunched over and cut across the colorful flowerbeds, crushing the beautiful blooms under her heavy boots. A shot rang out. As she rounded the path, she found Sergei with his gun aimed at the top of the stone wall. A masochistic spark lit his eyes—the one that always gave her the creeps. “Who are you shooting at? Shouldn’t you be helping us inside? Zarev’s men are breaking through,” she yelled, running to join him. Her heart was in her throat, choking her as she bent over trying to catch her breath.

Sergei stared at the top of the wall a second more before dropping his arm at his side. A wicked, nasty grin curved the corners of his mouth. “The new guy,” he spat.

“What new guy?” Nikol surveyed the area. “Where’s the body?”

“He was on the wall. The swine was trying to escape. He toppled to the other side like a dead pig.” Satisfaction dripped from his every word.

Nikol took a step toward the wall. “Where do you think you are going?” Sergei demanded.

“To check the body.”

Sergei laughed. “He’s not going anywhere. We will go around through the park. Easier than breaking a neck going over the wall.” He cocked his head. “Follow me, little Nikol, and you will see. I have been waiting for this hunt a long time. A pity he was such poor prey. “

Nikol’s mind was troubled. Sergei preyed upon those who threatened his position. Dmitriy, Mikhailov’s nephew, had a place of honor on his shit list for being Mikhailov’s legitimate successor within the gang. There was only one other person Sergei seemed to hate more than he hated Dmitriy, and for some reason that was Ivanov. Kostas’s programmer. Another innocent lamb brought into the lion’s den to be slaughtered. Nikol crossed her arms and held her ground. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you are talking about and who you took down.”

In two large steps, Sergei reached her side, jerked her to him, and dug his gun in the flesh of her cheek. “Why do you always have to question me?” he ground out in a low, rough voice. “Just do what you are told, for once.”

He shoved her toward the house. Stumbling, Nikol caught herself. Biting back her rage as she straightened, she glanced up straight into the muzzle of the gun he pointed at her. Schooling her features, she nodded. She wasn’t sure she could hold back the disgust she held for him from coloring her voice if she spoke. Her finger itched to pull the trigger, but she couldn’t. Not yet.

Sergei smiled knowingly as he gestured with the gun toward the house. “You first; cannot have you sticking a bullet inside me, can we?”

Sergei’s words hit home, calling up memories of two nights before.

The banging at her door pulled her from a restless sleep and seemed never-ending.

“Open this door, little Nikol!”
Sergei demanded, his voice slurring over the words.

“Go away! You are drunk, Deminov!”
Nikol had yelled back.
“You are drunk and,”
—she had whispered under her breath—
“an ass.”

The door had crashed open, splinters of wood shooting everywhere. Nikol had scrambled to get out of bed and from the vulnerable position she was caught in, but Sergei had tackled her back against it, pinning her beneath him.

Nikol had fought him furiously. She had scissored her legs around his neck, squeezing tight as she leveraged herself on her shoulders in a firm plank position, holding him back. He had tried to break the hold, but she had punched his face, gripped the crown of his hair, and reached under her pillow for her gun. With Sergei in his intoxicated state, she had the advantage of strength and speed. Before he had been able to break the hold, she had swung the gun around and nested the muzzle smack in the middle of his forehead.

Sergei had eyed her warily then, her actions penetrating his semi-drunk haze. She had stared him in the eyes, hers hard and unforgiving.
“Move and I put a bullet through your head.”

His eyes had narrowed, a sneer marred his mouth.
“You owe me, bitch. No one denies me.”

His arrogant words had pissed her off and had spurred her anger. She had tightened her thighs around his neck and a smirk had crept over her mouth as his face turned a deeper hue of red. Her frustrations at the time it was taking to complete her assignment in the mansion had finally exploded with his breaching of her door minutes earlier.

Nikol had pinned his gaze. A loud clicking sound had filled the room as she had cocked the hammer of the gun.
“I never agreed to such payment. I have told you no repeatedly. I do not enjoy alpha males. Or jackasses. You should respect that. Try it again,
”—she had tightened her thighs and twisted to the side, flipping over him and pinning him on his back. His hands had once again clawed at her hips and tried to push her off him. She had held tight, pressing her weight down on him, squeezing his head between her knees, and swinging the gun behind her, pressing the muzzle tight against the tender flesh of his semi-hard cock
—“and I will make it so no woman can ever give you a blowjob again. Be happy I do not put a bullet in you right now.”

The memory faded quickly into the present situation. “If I wanted to, I would have done so by now,” Nikol shrugged, ignoring the heated look he tossed her way. “How do we get there?” She needed to find out if Sergei had truly killed the developer. If he was still alive, he could be of use to her.

The two of them snuck through the side garden to the front of the mansion where the confrontation had started, Sergei in the lead. Their progress was delayed by some of Zarev’s men still lurking out front. Sergei took them down with rapid discharge of his Strike One pistol. By the time they burst through the gates on foot, the police vans and cars were turning the corner.

Sirens blasted and lights flashed as the Special Rapid Response Unit—the Russian police’s tactical team—pulled up to the front of the mansion. The original confrontation that had died down as the gangs aided their fallen brothers and regrouped was newly amplified by concussion blasts and tear gas being dispatched by the police to contain the upheaval.

Sergei holstered his pistol inside his jacket and mingled with the crowd of curious bystanders and gawkers that had gathered around the front of the property. Nikol followed as he weaved through them. After the police flooded the mansion like a tidal wave, Sergei took off at a run down the sidewalk bordering the mansion walls. Without a second thought, Nikol followed him, shoving the lingering pedestrians aside in her rush.

She caught up with Sergei and they ran the few blocks it took to reach the park. When he veered into the wooded area withdrawing his pistol, Nikol cursed under her breath and chased after him. Drawing even, she registered the cold calculating look in his eyes, his goal to make sure his prey was dead. Nikol followed Sergei’s curt directions until they reached the area behind the mansion and the spot he was certain the body had landed when it had dropped from the wall.

Lush green moss and lichen covered the soft ground in the secluded and shaded area. Tall fern-like vegetation hid the less-travelled manmade paths through the woods. A cool breeze blew the branches of the many oak trees scattered around the lot, their long branches giving them the appearance of tentacled creatures. She shivered as the cool air brushed over the perspiration coating her skin.

She slowed to a stop when a flash of color appeared in the distance at the opposite end from which they had come. She took a step to investigate it, but was distracted by Sergei’s loud curses. She smirked and followed the source of the foul language. Satisfaction flowed through her. It seemed his prey was not so dead—and a little smarter than Sergei had given him credit.

She wiped the enjoyment from her face when the angry rampage reached her ears. Sergei’s face was a most unflattering shade of red and his fist wound tight around his gun. He looked like a kid having a temper tantrum after losing his favorite toy. “Where is the body?”

Sergei shoved past her. “It is gone. The bastard survived.” His attention was caught by something on the ground and he crouched to study it. As he brushed the ferns and foliage out of the way, a growl of anger rolled from his lips.

“What is it?” Nikol peeked over his shoulder at the ground in front of him.

“The bastard was not alone. He had help. See?” He pointed to the different sole imprints on the dirt. “There are more than one set of footprints here.” An evil deadly smile bloomed across his face as he looked up at her, and a peppering of goose bumps spread across her arms. “
Now
we hunt.”

Insane Bastard