Chapter 26
26
ROMAN
T he bike and I are one, hitting speeds higher than any bike has a right to go. I lean into a corner, striking sparks off the tarmac, riding the mountain roads like a meteor shot across the sky.
I feel both a thousand feet tall and the smallest I ever have.
I’ve gone from being a man without name or family to having all of it, rich and sweet, laid before me like a banquet I barely dare to taste. And now, someone has walked in and stolen part of it from me.
I can’t relax until I have Ofelia and Masha back.
Even after I get the girls back, I have so much to lose. So much that Ilyan Fedorov, or men like him, can try to take away. The merest thought of someone laying hands on Darya, on the faint bump in her belly that I still can’t quite believe is real, ratchets up my internal tension to the kind of torque no engine can hope to match.
And I can’t come down from this crazy edge of joy either. A joy that feels indecent while the girls are still in Vilnus Orlov’s fucking hands.
My fear lends a savage edge to the ride, and to the joy.
I flick open the visor on my helmet, reveling in the cut of the wind against my face.
“Fuck!” I roar the word into the wind, roar the pain, rage, and joy out together, the bike leaping beneath me.
I storm into the lab with the wind still in my hair and the wildness like an electrical current in every cell. I stalk through the ops center, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Dimitry and Mak are in the secure room, poring over a schematic of the Coconut Grove compound. Dimitry looks up as I open the door.
“Jesus.” He raises his eyebrows. “What the fuck happened to you?”
I feel the shit-eating grin spread across my face before I can stop it. “Darya’s pregnant.”
For once, Dimitry is stunned into silence. He and Mak look at each other, then back at me. A slow smile dawns on Dimitry’s face. He crosses the floor in two strides and pulls me into a wordless bear hug that almost crushes me, thumping my back with a closed fist. When he finally pulls back he puts his hands on my shoulders, shaking me until my teeth rattle.
“Fucking brilliant,” he says roughly. Then he says it again. “Fucking brilliant.”
The severity of his grip and depth of emotion in his eyes say more than words ever could. Dimitry, more than anyone, knows what this means to me.
Mak, standing behind him, thrusts out his hand and smiles wryly. “I think he means to say congratulations,” he says in that cut-glass fucking Eton accent. The faint rebuke doesn’t take anything from the genuine warmth in his eyes. “Allow me to add mine, Roman. This is wonderful news.”
“Damn right it is.” I still can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. I take the glass of cognac Mak has magically produced. Fucker probably keeps a decanter with him when he’s on camels in some third-world shithole.
Not that I’m complaining.
“Have you told Mickey yet?” Dimitry asks after we’ve clinked glasses.
I shake my head, my smile fading. “He’s got enough on his mind right now.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Mak says, exchanging a look with Dimitry, “I would suggest that is bullshit. Mickey has a very big mind. The only thing there isn’t space for in that head of his is lies, Roman. The kid can sniff them out from across a crowded room. In his current mood, I wouldn’t go hiding anything from him.”
Dimitry nods vigorously. “Get him in here. As a matter of fact, let’s wait until he’s here to drink to this.”
I frown. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to be celebrating anything until the girls are back, especially in front of Mickey.”
“I doubt he’ll give you the chance anyway.” Dimitry grins at me. “One look at your face was probably enough to make him suspicious. Your poker game is shot on this one, brother, let me tell you.”
He’s barely finished speaking when there’s a knock on the door.
“Roman!” Mickey’s voice is tense and demanding. “What’s going on?”
Dimitry’s grin widens. “Told you.”
I take a deep breath.
The truth is, the thought of facing Mickey with this scares me a whole lot more than I’m willing to let on, even to Dimitry. News like this, when his sisters are still missing? So soon after the DNA test results, and after getting Darya back? There’s every chance Mickey will throw Mak’s cognac right in my face.
And I wouldn’t blame him. Not at all.
Oh, well. It’s got to be faced eventually. And after this thing is done, I might not be in any shape to take the fist he’s probably about to plant in my face.
I open the door.
A white-faced Mickey stares at me, clearly dreading the worst. My levity disappears immediately, along with my hesitation.
“It’s okay, Mickey,” I say calmly. “It isn’t anything to do with the girls. Our plans are still in place. We’ll get them back. I promised, remember?”
He frowns, his eyes dropping to the glass in my hand. “Then what’s that all about? Some kind of Dutch courage ritual thing?”
“Not exactly.” I put the glass down on the table and face him squarely. “I wish this news was coming at a different time, Mickey.” I hold his eyes, steadying myself. “I just found out that Darya is pregnant.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but his stark, horrified face definitely isn’t it.
“Hey.” I grip his shoulders, holding his eyes. “You can hit me if you want. I’d understand. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you—”
“She was going to run while she was pregnant? ” The terror in his eyes cuts me off. “With the Orlovs coming after her?”
I close my eyes reflexively.
I’ve done my best not to think about that from the moment I saw the white stick. I don’t want to be angry at Darya. And I wasn’t lying to her earlier. Logically, I do understand why she didn’t tell me before she ran.
But that doesn’t mean that the thought of her on the run, alone, pregnant, and hunted, doesn’t strike my heart with the same stark terror I can see in Mickey’s face. The same hideous, sickening horror I felt when I knew the girls had been taken.
It isn’t until I open my eyes that I realize I’ve been gripping Mickey’s shoulders hard enough to leave marks. He hasn’t moved. But perhaps my touch communicated more than words could, because his eyes have softened slightly when I meet them again.
“At least she’s home now,” he says quietly.
I nod, my hands still on his shoulders. “Thanks to you, Mickey. And when we get Ofelia and Masha back, that will be thanks to you, too.”
Dimitry pushes past me, thrusting a glass of cognac into Mickey’s hand. “We waited for you until we raised a glass to the latest Stevanovsky to enter the world.”
Mickey takes the glass and turns it slowly in his hand, staring at it. When he looks up again it’s with the crooked smile that I find all the more precious for being so rarely seen. “Not a Stevanovsky.” He raises his glass to me. “To the latest Borovsky. One I will be proud to call family, as will my sisters.”
Dimitry grips Mickey’s shoulder with a bear-sized hand. Mak nods approvingly. We clink glasses, and I swallow, not least to hide the lump in my throat.
Then Mickey coughs, his eyes streaming, which makes us all laugh.
He frowns at us all in bemusement. “What kind of psycho actually chooses to drink this stuff?”
It’s past ten p.m., and apart from the brief cognac pause at the beginning, we’ve been refining plans all evening. Bryce, Luis, and Pavel have joined us in the secure room.
“The jet is fueled and waiting.” Pavel glances briefly at me then back at the large screen in the secure room. “Zurich is two and a half hours away. The flight logs will be hidden from public view. Nobody will track you.”
“Good.” I look around the faces at the table. Bryce, Luis, Dimitry, Pavel, and Mickey are all tense and alert.
Mak, on the other hand, could be on holiday at the fucking Ritz, the way he lounges against the wall.
Fortunately, I’ve seen him in action enough times to know the lethal capability his insouciance disguises.
“Once our business in Zurich is done, I’ll fly to Miami with Mak’s people, as discussed.” I nod at Bryce. “You and the rest of my personal security detail will remain with Darya.”
Mak tilts his head at Dimitry. “Except for him, obviously.”
Dimitry tilts his head with a rather hard grin. “Glad we got that straight.”
“Dimitry stays with me.” There was never a chance he wasn’t coming to Miami. “Luis will coordinate with Pavel and hold point on the ground back here in Malaga.”
“So Darya is definitely flying to Zurich.” Mickey says it flatly, his eyes on me.
I nod. “The doctor cleared it.”
Dimitry snorts. “You mean you have as much chance of keeping her away as you do Mickey.”
Pavel smirks, then, seeing my face, hastily composes himself and buries his head in a screen.
“Everyone is fully briefed on Darya’s condition.” I glare around the table. “I have obstetricians on speed dial in three different countries, and you all have their numbers. Even the faintest sign of something going wrong...” I don’t need to finish my sentence. Bryce, Pavel, and Luis are already nodding vigorously.
“As for you.” I fix Mickey with a hard eye. “I know that we agreed you could be in Miami. But I won’t change my mind about where you stay while this is going down. Mak has a secure location already set up on the ground. That’s where you’ll be throughout this whole thing.”
“For the hundredth time, I copy that, loud and clear.” He shakes his head and taps away at his laptop, not bothering to look up.
“Make sure you bloody well do.” I eye the top of his head skeptically. “Mak, Mickey is flying direct from here to Miami with you, as agreed.”
I don’t add that Mickey’s well-being rests in Mak’s hands.
I don’t need to.
I look around the room. “As I said, from Zurich, I’ll travel with Mak’s team. Bryce, you’re heading up the security detail that will bring Darya back here to Malaga in my jet.” I turn to Pavel. “I want you watching every fucking mile of her flight. Anything so much as smells off, you coordinate with Bryce and Luis to mobilize everything we have. I’ve got people on standby in every major city from Zurich to Spain. If you need to emergency land, if you need anything, you have the contacts.”
They all nod. It isn’t like I haven’t said it all a hundred times.
I glance at Mak. “Over to you.”
“From Zurich you’re invisible.” Mak clicks, and the screen changes to a split screen showing both the Everglades house and the Coconut Grove compound. “We’ll land at a private airstrip outside of Miami and meet the rest of my team in a secure location for a final briefing.”
“But you’re not sharing this location with us.” Pavel, for once, speaks up without being asked. His dissatisfaction with this particular part of the plan is patently obvious, as it has been all night.
“Nope.” Mak grins at him. “Like I said, my team will take it from Zurich.”
Pavel scowls at me. I suppress a grin of my own. “We’ve got Lars Andersson somewhere in the mix, Pavel. We have to assume he’s watching everything we do. So far, Mak’s presence here is entirely off radar. I’d like to keep it that way. If we assume Andersson will manage to track our flight log to Zurich, all he will see is Darya and me arriving and then leaving the same day. That’s what I’d like him to see.”
“I told you the flight logs are hidden!” Pavel doesn’t attempt to hide his indignation.
“And we’ve both seen firsthand what Lars Andersson is capable of.” Mickey doesn’t look up from his screen, but I notice that Pavel takes more notice of him than he does of me. That should piss me off, but it doesn’t. It never ceases to astonish me just how quickly Mickey has earned the respect of the entire ops center. “I’m still trying to crack these fucking trojans he came at Mercura with. Sorry,” he mutters, glancing up at me.
I frown. “You’re working on those now? ”
He lifts a shoulder, his fingers still flying as he meets my eyes. “It relaxes me.”
“Jesus,” mutters Dimitry, shaking his head as the other men in the room shake with silent laughter.
“Of course it does,” I say dryly, seeing my own amusement mirrored in Mak’s eyes. “Well, Einstein, you might need to give the keyboard a rest and get some sleep. Wheels go up at oh six hundred tomorrow.” I glance around the table. “We all good?”
I don’t need their nods. We’ve been good for hours, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t hammered home every goddamn point.
There’s too much at stake not to.
“Einstein?” Mickey rolls his eyes as he closes his laptop. “What about Gummo? Or Mitnick? Einstein was just a physicist. Gummo is the crypto king, and he’s so damned good nobody even knows his real name .”