Chapter Thirty-Four
In which betrayal cuts deepest when it’s close.
Nikandr…
The meeting with Melor Balabanov isn't going well, and I'm fighting my desire to shoot him in the face when my phone goes off. It's a special ringtone for Caroline's bodyguards.
"Excuse me, Melor. This is a security issue."
The motherfucker has arrogance to click his tongue disapprovingly. "There's been so many of those, haven't there?" I'd kill him. At any other time, I'd slam his face down on his desk until I flattened into paste. Not right now.
Stepping out into the hall, I answer it. "Rafail. What is it?"
"Mrs. Morozova has disappeared."
***
I don't remember bidding Melor farewell, and his smug fucking face and the end of our shipping deal barely registers. The captain has the jet fueled by the time I get to the airstrip and within minutes, we're leaving Moscow behind and I'm on my phone again.
"Kolya, what do you know?" He's my favorite hacker in a crew of exceptional and highly morally flexible specialists.
"I isolated the security camera behind the Prada shop. She left on her own," he says. He's choosing his words carefully. I've never heard him like this.
"She deliberately evaded her security."
"Yes, Sovietnik," he continues.
"Her wedding ring has a transmitter," I say. "It should be simple to track."
"Isaak and Rafail followed the transmitter's location signal. Her wedding ring was thrown into a flowerbed about away from Faneuil Hall. She'd taken an Uber there, where she approached her contact."
Everything settles inside me. Frozen in place. "Who was her contact?"
"It took me some time to comb through my facial recognition system. I finally got a match. His name is Johann, no last name that I can find. He's… a former protegee of Dritan Krasniqi." He says the words gingerly, like he's worried about where they'll settle.
"I need you to be very clear with me, Kolya. Crystal fucking clear." My throat's dry. "Did it look in any way that my wife was coerced?"
"No, Sovietnik," he says miserably.
I'm motionless, the phone held to my ear. The jet's engines hum soothingly. There's low conversation from the guards behind me. Everything seems normal in a world that just changed completely. I'm a fool.
Clearing my throat, I say, "Where did they go from there?"
Now Kolya's tone turns anxious. "This is where it gets tricky, sir. They split off in six different, identical cars. I've narrowed down the routes for three of them, Mrs. Morozova was not in any of them. The other three…"
"Are unaccounted for," I finish.
"For now," he says hastily, "I will locate them. It will take longer, because Boston has a seriously fucked-up traffic camera system. But I'm accessing security cameras along each potential route. We'll find her."
It could take days. I hear what Kolya's too afraid to say.
"Keep me posted on any development," I say woodenly. "No matter how small."
Alexsey calls just as I hang up with Kolya. "Roman and I are already putting together a team. Why don't you fly into Boston instead of New York? We can meet you there and go over a battle plan."
A short, humorless chuckle huffs from my throat. "We don't know where she is."
"We will," Alexsey says confidently. He sounds so earnest. "Look, I know how this feels. When Liria was taken captive, we had to find a way to get into the loft without getting her killed. We can do this, dvoyurodnyy brat, cousin. We'll get her back -"
"She slipped her security and met with this Johann willingly." I cut into his promises."
Silence. "That doesn't mean she's working with him. He could have blackmailed her. Threatened her somehow."
Alexsey would be the one to refuse to assume the worst, having learned a brutal lesson about believing Liria was Dritan Krasniqi's pawn.
"Maybe." I pinch the bridge of my nose, hard, hoping the pressure will drive back the headache that just bloomed.
"We'll meet you in Boston," Alexsey says. "Armed to the fucking teeth. Roman is insisting on bringing a lot of explosives." He sighs. "A lot."
"Yes, Boston," I say, not able to form a full sentence.
"Try not to assume the worst," he repeats. "We will find her. Then, we'll nail that rat fuck Johann to a cement beam and go from there, all right?"
It takes a moment. I clear my throat and manage to say, "All right. Thank you, cousin."
"Family first," he says. "Always."