Chapter 15
Sklad . . .
Orrin came to slowly, as if stepping from a dense fog. It was difficult to think. He tried to shake his head to clear it, but it did nothing.
“It will not help.”
Yuri. Orrin’s gaze snapped to the foot of the bed where there were shadows. A shape emerged from the darkness to reveal his nemesis.
“What did you do to me?” Orrin demanded.
Yuri lifted a shoulder and brought a cigar to his lips. His cheeks hallowed as he drew in a deep breath. After blowing out the smoke, Yuri flicked the ashes to the floor. “You have no idea what you have walked into.”
“It’s quite obvious, actually. A man I thought was a friend betrayed me.”
Yuri stared hard at him with blue eyes. “Are things really that simple, stariy droog, old friend?”
“Yes.”
“Never.”
That set Orrin’s teeth on edge. “You killed my men.”
“And you’ve killed plenty of mine in the past.”
“I didn’t line them up and put bullets in their heads.”
Yuri blew out a breath. “Where is Ragnarok?”
So they were back to that again. Orrin would never tell Yuri anything. It didn’t matter how much torture he was put through. It didn’t matter how tired his soul got, how he might long for death.
The words would never pass his lips.
“Do you even know what you stole?”
He frowned at Yuri’s question. There was a note of something peculiar in the Russian’s voice that caught Orrin’s attention. And put him on edge. “A bioweapon.”
“That does what?”
Growing apprehension made his blood turn to ice. “It kills. Like all such weapons.”
Yuri drew in a deep breath, his chest puffing out before he released it slowly. He then looked down at the cigar in his hand. “Oh, it kills, stariy droog. But not in the way you think.”
The beeping of the monitor matched the thumping of his heart. In all his years serving his country, Orrin had seen weapons progress at an astonishing rate. Then came the next generation of weapon—biological agents.
The idea had sickened him. But nothing so much as seeing how such weapons could disfigure and kill from within seconds to years later. But all weapons had one thing in common—slaughter.
Yuri was suggesting yet another way to come to such an end. What could be worse than death? He searched his mind, recalling reports from scientists about varying ways a bio-agent could kill.
“You have not figured it out,” Yuri said in a tired voice. “You will not.”
“Then tell me.”
Yuri lifted his gaze. “Do you know what Ragnarok means?”
“It’s the end of the world.”
“The developer of this particular weapon, Konrad Jankovic, named it thus because it is just that. A destroyer that strikes without anyone even realizing it.”
The more Yuri talked, the more troubled Orrin became. “A weapon like that would have immediate effects.”
“Normally. Not this one.” Yuri sighed loudly and snuffed out the cigar on the wall. He tossed it into the corner before looking back to Orrin. “Dr. Jankovic led us to believe it would kill as soon as it was inhaled. It was my country’s defense against continuing threats coming our way.”
“But . . .” he pressed when Yuri halted.
“Another scientist discovered what Jankovic really developed. We were immediately notified, but by then, he was in the wind.”
“You lost him?” Not something Yuri would be happy about. Orrin was beginning to see what drove his old friend.
Yuri shrugged indifferently. “That was someone else’s concern. I was brought in after. During the hunt, the scientist who told us what Jankovic had been doing was murdered.”
“Jankovic killed him.”
“Da. Then we were told you were coming to steal Ragnarok.”
Orrin simply stared at Yuri. Knowing he’d been betrayed didn’t get easier to hear no matter how many times it was said.
“That angers you,” Yuri said with a smirk. “I have that same rage within me. You see, I had Ragnarok moved to another location. Yet, somehow, it wound up back in the lab for you to steal.”
“Who betrayed you?”
“It could not have been a single person.” Yuri shook his head, his eyes lowering once again. “I brought men with me who I can trust to find Ragnarok.”
At least Orrin’s mind was clear now, but it didn’t seem to help him sort through the tangle of lies and deceit. Orrin wasn’t sure what to believe.
“Tell me what the weapon does.”
For several minutes, Yuri remained silent. When he faced Orrin, his face was lined with regret and exhaustion. “Ragnarok was named so because it can be released in anything—food, water, air—and no one would know. It would take generations for anyone to realize there was something wrong.”
“Yuri. What does it do?”
“They would blame many things first. The point is that it could be done without any blame coming to any country or person.”
“Yuri, dammit,” he said, anger lacing his words as his voice rose. “What the fuck does it do?”
“It prevents women from becoming pregnant.”
The words hit Orrin with all the force of a 50mm bullet. He couldn’t wrap his head around something so heinous.
“I think I had that same expression,” Yuri said wearily. “Disbelief. Outrage. Horror. Confusion. Last, but not least . . . fear.”
“Dear God.” He thought of Callie, Mia, and Natalie. Women who he had brought into his family or were connected somehow. He thought of his sons never having children of their own, and it left him sickened to the depths of his soul. “Why? Why would Jankovic create this?”
“Because he could. And he was offered millions.”
He snapped his gaze to Yuri. “Who asked this fucking slime to create such a weapon?”
“You should know, stariy droog. It’s your country.”
Orrin recoiled at the venom in Yuri’s voice. “That makes no sense. Why pay Jankovic to craft such a thing only to have me go in and steal it?”
“It divided our attention. Ragnarok and Jankovic. We could not focus on a single thing. That allowed the scientist to slip out of the country.”
“You know that for sure?”
“We found coded messages in pictures on a social media site. Though we are looking, we do not know for certain where Jankovic will arrive on American soil.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. As soon as he asks for asylum, my government will give it. You’ve explained what the weapon does, told me about the designer, and your role. You’ve then tried to implicate my country. You’ve still not told me why you killed my team.”
“You do not get it, do you?” Yuri looked up at the ceiling and laughed, the sound hollow.
His head lowered, and he leveled Orrin with an intense stare.
“Stariy droog, we were both used. There is a shadow organization that infiltrates everywhere, but they originated in America. They’re called the Saints. ”
“I’ve heard of them.” He wouldn’t bother to mention that he suspected Yuri was part of the group.
“Your entire team was Saints.”
It was his turn to laugh. “That’s not possible. I knew those men personally. I vetted them myself.”
“The Saints are smart. They surround us from the highest authority to the beggar on the street, always listening and watching. And waiting.”
“For what?”
“Anything. Everything. What do groups like that want? Power. Absolute control.”
And they would have it with Ragnarok in their possession. He was never happier that he’d had Mia mail the vial to Callie than at that moment.
Except it put his sons, Callie, Natalie, and Mia in imminent danger.
“Do you understand why I must find Ragnarok?” Yuri asked.
Orrin shifted on the bed, wishing he were on his feet. “What I know is that I can’t trust anything. You could be telling me the truth. Or you could be part of the Saints.”
“I am trying to save the world!” Yuri roared.
He raised a brow and calmly said, “Then know that Ragnarok is safe, and in a place that no one can get it.”
If Yuri truly weren’t part of the Saints, then he would accept what Orrin said. If not . . . well, then he would know the truth about his old friend, Yuri.
“One of us has to trust first,” Yuri said with a narrowed gaze.
“I think of my four daughters. I already have one grandchild. I cannot imagine telling my girls that I had the chance to stop this but did not. That it is my fault they are unable to have any more children.” Yuri ran a hand down his face. “Are you sure it is safe?”
“I know it is.”
“You sent it to your sons?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t, actually.”
Yuri let loose a string of curse words. “All this time, I had men going after them when your sons did not even have it.”
Whatever smile began, soon faded as he recalled Yuri’s earlier visit. “Who died at my ranch?”
“Your sons are safe and unhurt.”
That made him feel a little better. He wouldn’t be content until he saw his sons and Callie for himself.
It was then that he noticed Yuri had moved closer to the side of the bed, his voice lowering as if he didn’t want to be overheard.
“What aren’t you telling me, Yuri?” Orrin demanded.
“I’m pretending to work for the Saints. I’m going to keep Ragnarok from them. In order to do that, I had to agree to help Egor Dvorak.”
“You’re telling me Dvorak is a Saint?”
“I am.”
“And your proof?”
“None that I can show you.”
So he was to take Yuri’s word. Could he? As Yuri had said, someone had to trust first. If Yuri relented in his search for Ragnarok, then he would trust him—to a point.
The fact was, Orrin couldn’t put his faith in anyone.
“Dvorak does not trust me,” Yuri said, bringing his attention back to the present. “I have not proven myself to the Saints. There are more than just my men here.”
“Dvorak’s?”
“He has had Russians coming to the States for weeks now. They are prepared. You caused disorder by not having the bioweapon with you.”
“And if I had?” he asked.
“I would have had to kill you.”
Orrin grunted. “Now what?”
“I do not know.”
“We need to get out of here.”
Yuri crossed his arms over his thick chest. “The last time I followed you, I got shot.”
“In the arm. It was a minor wound.”
The grin that formed died on Yuri’s face quickly. “Did you ever discover who killed Melanie?”
“No.”
Yuri made a sound at the back of his throat before he turned on his heel and walked from the room.
The question had Orrin thinking about his wife’s murder from a different angle—and he didn’t like the direction of his thoughts.