Chapter 24 Faina
FAINA
The man we picked up just wasn’t good enough for Richard and a few days later, Cian and I are shipped off to another facility with Richard’s barrage ringing in our ears.
He wanted more than just one man linked to Hawk. Despite all his previous promises about how Hawk was the only important thing at the auction, Richard’s visible and vocal disappointment that we only came back with one man revealed his true intentions.
“All he cared about was the weapons,” Cian mutters, twisting his wrists in the cuffs attached to a chain that locks against the floor to prevent escape. “He didn’t care about Hawk. He just wanted a gigantic weapons bust to make his report look amazing.”
“I hate that you’re right,” I murmur, keeping my attention locked on the van’s blacked-out windows while watching Cian in the reflection. “I suppose an elusive international Mafia means very little in comparison to heavy weapons being shipped all around the world.”
“Did you see his face when he realized the auction was over?” Cian scoffs to himself. “What a dick.”
“Literally.”
Cian’s lips part as if he’s got more to say, but something makes him change his mind and he slumps back in his seat, his brow furrowed.
Traveling to another facility is not part of the plan.
Helping Richard was supposed to get us out of this situation, not put us in a worse one.
Now, no deal they offer will be good enough and Cian will likely be taken from me forever.
I need help but we’re very much alone. Two drops in a fucking ocean.
“What happened with your deal?” There’s an inflection in Cian’s voice holding the real question he can’t ask. He’s seeking to see if my freedom is secured and he’s about to spend the rest of his life alone in a cell that will likely kill him from the trauma it triggers.
“Well, Richard said that—”
I’m flung forward so violently that the metal cuffs around my wrists slice right down to the bone as my entire body is launched off the seat and thrown upward.
Pain pulls sharply through my shoulders as the restraints prevent me from hitting the roof of the van.
The air fills with the screeching sound of metal scraping against metal and yells rise from the front of the van as we crash headlong into something.
I’m thrown back down onto the floor of the van, landing with a heavy thump that forces all the air out of my lungs.
My head snaps back against the metal and stars burst across my vision.
I glimpse Cian as he lands prone on the bench he’s tied to, a yell of alarm escaping him, and then everything goes black.
I wake mere seconds later to the yell of two horns blaring constantly. It's deafening. We must have crashed.
Groaning, I sit up and press one hand to my forehead which alerts me to the lack of restriction around my wrist. Blinking through a throbbing headache, I spot the metal cuffs dangling above me from the chain. The hinge was poorly made and snapped during the crash.
Wait… above me?
I blink slowly and it clicks. The van is upside down.
It must have rolled when I passed out. Blood runs in warm rivulets down my forearm and my head pulses in time to my heartbeat, but all of it pales in comparison to Cian, who stands in front of me, wrestling with the cuffs still keeping him prisoner.
“Shit, Cian! Are you alright?”
“Faina!” He glances at me and barely conceals the relief in his eyes. “I thought you were out.”
“Only a quick nap,” I reply as I scramble upward and grasp his cuffs.
“Here, let me.” Knowing how weak they are, it doesn’t take long for our combined weight to twist and snap the cuffs free.
Unfortunately, only one opens and while we snap the manacles from the chain, Cian keeps one cuff around one wrist as he stumbles away from me.
“We have to get out of here,” he gasps, doubling over while holding his stomach. “Fuck me.”
“What’s wrong?”
He waves me off with a grunt and there’s no time for me to coddle him.
I glance around and one of the broken windows catches my eye. A spiderweb of cracks spreads from the bottom (top?) left corner and after a few solid kicks from me, it cracks fully and shatters across the tarmac we’re lying on.
“Come on!” I motion for Cian to follow and together, we scramble out of the van and into the quiet street.
This early in the morning, there’s no one around.
We’re down near a river and the wheels on the van are still slowly spinning, clinging to whatever momentum they have left.
In front of the van is a large delivery truck with its front smashed in and blood splattered all over the windscreen.
One of us was going too fast down the hill, and we collided with the force of the crash and the incline, causing the van to roll over, while the truck hit the railing lining the river and came to rest.
“Shit,” I gasp as sharp, burning pain flares up in my wrist. “We have to get out of here.”
Together, Cian and I sprint away from the wreckage and we don’t stop until we’re deep enough in the city that we can’t hear the blaring horns or see the columns of smoke rising from the crash site. By the time we stop on the outskirts of a park, the bleeding from my wrist has grown sluggish.
“That looks bad,” Cian pants as he rests against the park gate next to me. “How does it feel?”
“Right now? Like I’m holding my wrist in a pan of flaming oil.”
“Hm. This isn’t part of some grand plan, is it?” Cian just can’t keep from voicing his suspicions.
“What?” I squint up at him as the morning sun rises behind his head.
“This escape. Is it all part of some kind of plan to make me trust you again or something?” When I don’t answer, Cian grunts. “You’re fucking Interpol, Faina, so what’s the point in you running?”
“Not anymore,” I correct sharply. “Look, I get you’re pissed off.
I get this detour has taken us way off course and Hawk could be anywhere by now, but let’s get one thing straight, okay?
We all have a fucking past and I’m not going to stand here and let you judge me for something I was forced into, okay?
Y’know, for a criminal, your morality is fucking skewed. ”
“Oh yeah?” Cian pushes up off the gate and glares at me. “How’d you figure that?”
“Because you were shitting on Richard for choosing weapons over human trafficking. Did you forget that I had a hand in that too, under the Russians before Anastasia? You can look past that when you look at me, but you can’t look past the cops?”
“It’s not because you’re a cop.”
“Were,” I correct with a groan while the pain in my wrist flares. “Then what is it, huh?”
“You were a spy and a liar, Faina! I can’t trust you!”
We’re going to spend hours arguing in circles at this rate and I’m too tired. Exhausting myself right now to get him to believe me just isn’t going to work so I roll my eyes and turn away while trying to focus on the positives.
We’re free, for now.
We have to get out of here.
Oh… and I have to find a way to tell him I’m pregnant although something tells me he won’t believe that anytime soon. Despite the tense silence between us, Cian doesn’t leave, which means even though he’s furious with me, he understands our best chance is still together.
“Look.” Sighing, I turn back to him. “While I was in my cell, I overheard one of the guards talking about Serenity. And when I faked a bathroom emergency because for some reason every man in Europe freaks out about periods, I was able to snatch some time on a computer.”
That catches Cian’s attention and he turns to face me, his brow raised. “And?”
“Serenity is a super yacht. I knew it was familiar to me but I couldn’t place it and it was bugging the fuck out of me. I saw it back when we were shifting through the shit from that general, the one you found documents on about Africa.”
“Shit…” Surprise spreads across Cian’s face and he groans softly. “No wonder the fucker’s been hard to track. He travels the world by sea. Not air.”
“Exactly. Although I have no clue where to go from here.”
“You know…” Cian rubs at his jaw, stroking his thickened beard. “I might actually know someone who can help.”
After stealing a car, we drive through the city and make one stop at a pharmacy for items to help me patch up my wrist. Cian returns with a host of medical supplies and a phone he swiped from a customer.
Then he silently drives us deeper into the city until he finds a quiet outcrop of buildings next to an overlook where the beautiful city spreads out beneath us.
There, he immediately jumps onto the phone while I set about patching up my wrist.
A few butterfly stitches and a strong wad of gauze later and my wrist is wrapped up securely. Despite the constant sharp, burning pain that flares every single time I move even a finger, I can’t risk the painkillers. Studying the pamphlet alerted me to some very key words.
Don’t take if pregnant or breastfeeding.
Dealing with the pain is all I can do. Then I relax in the car and flick through several radio stations until I find one with the news detailing the crash.
In their words, the driver of the van was found dead at the wheel with no mention of the two guards up front with him.
The driver of the truck is in critical condition in the hospital.
Not great but better than dead. I listen for the better part of an hour until Cian wanders back from the tree line tapping the phone against his palm.
“You get anything?” I ask, leaning out of the open passenger door and watching him.
Cian sighs and nods. “I called my contact and he found Serenity.”
“Where is it?”
“Its last recorded docking was in Egypt.”
My back straightens. “So you were right about Africa.”
He nods. “And it’s still there.”
“How do you know this guy?”
“He…” Cian’s mouth twists and he scratches at his beard. Given how long it’s been since he could shave, it seems like it’s bothering him. “He was working with Saoirse on the rescue efforts to track down all the people trafficked by Domenico. He’s a good guy.”
That’s good enough for me. “Getting to Egypt with Interpol on our ass is going to be a challenge.”
“He said he could help with that too. He gave me details of a contact he has here who can get us across the water to Egypt.”
“Do you trust him?”
Cian’s eyes narrow and he shrugs one shoulder. “About as much as I trust you.”
Ouch.