21. Where’s Halston? #2
Teddy reached over the bar, pulled a clean glass and filled it with sparkling water.
“Cin Cin,” Gabriel said, and the brothers clinked glasses. Cheers.
“They blame you for Angelo’s death?” Teddy asked as he glanced over at Tara.
“They want me to marry Angelo’s sister to make amends.”
“I remember her. She had a crush on you when we were kids.”
“I refused.”
“’Cause you got a thing for Barbi?” Teddy asked.
“I do.”
“She’s definitely too good for you.”
“True,” Gabriel said. “You jumped several levels yourself, my brother. My Sydney is way too good for you.”
Teddy chuckled. “Not loving that you still think of her as yours.”
“She is mine, my sorellina.” Little sister.
“Are you picking another fight?” Teddy asked.
“Every moment of every day.”
The brothers laughed, clinked glasses again.
“You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t pissing someone off,” Teddy said.
“I’m searching for Angelo’s killer,” Gabriel said. “I uploaded a photo to IDware.”
Teddy drained the glass. “Let’s go check it out.”
“First, Tara.” Gabriel pushed off the stool.
Together, the brothers made their way to the table.
The man was listening intently to Tara. She stopped talking, smiled up at them. “This is Mark Fannon. These are my bosses. Teddy Santini and Gabriel Santini.”
The men shook hands. “Great restaurant. I’ve been here a few times.”
“Thanks,” Teddy said. “We love hearing that.”
“What’s your story with Tara?” Gabriel asked.
“G, why are you being so hard?” Teddy pushed back.
“It’s fine,” Mark said. “I’ve got two younger sisters. I can be a real jerk when I meet their dates.” He handed Teddy a business card. “I just wanted to introduce myself to Tara.” He shot her a smile. “No pressure.”
“We’ll run background on you.”
“Sorry ‘bout my brother,” Teddy said. “He’s insane.”
Mark laughed.
The brothers said goodbye, made their way toward the manager’s office. Once there, Teddy asked, “What is wrong with you?”
“Run his name,” Gabriel said.
“I am,” Teddy replied. “Tara met someone a few months ago who was bad news.” Teddy unlocked the computer, toggled to the website he used to check prospective employees and plugged in the customer’s name. “Hey, you got a hit on IDware.”
Gabriel peered over Teddy’s shoulder at the results.
Dread punched him in the guts.
Fuck, no.
NATASHA PETROVA
The Embassy of the Russian Federation, Deputy Chief of Mission
“Halston was right,” Gabriel seethed. “Angelo’s killer is a woman.”
“Oh, boy,” Teddy murmured. “This is not good.”
“She told Halston she’s the embassy’s social director.”
“Maybe she got a promotion.”
“She’s a liar,” Gabriel growled, “and a murderer.”
“Why lie about your title?”
“Maybe to play down her power. Everyone loves the social director. Halston’s at the embassy and she’s not safe.”
“She’s been at the embassy and she hasn’t been safe,” Teddy said. “You can’t just barge in and ask for her. You’ll blow her cover.”
As Gabriel started pacing in the office, he raked his hands through his hair. “She doesn’t have her phone with her.”
“I think you’re worried about—”
“This Petrova woman tried to kill me—” He stopped. “Is she the woman from Lost Souls who poisoned my drink?”
“Do you have surveillance from the club?” Teddy asked.
Gabriel loomed over him. “Get up.”
“How ‘bout please?”
“Jesus, Theodore. Please let me sit there.”
Teddy moved out of the way. Gabriel sat down, pulled up the video from Lost Souls.
He froze the video on the woman’s profile, then regarded Teddy who was heads-down on his phone.
“Come check this out,” Gabriel said.
Teddy dragged a chair around, sat beside him. Together, they studied the video. Just as the woman turned to leave, Gabriel paused it. “Same person?”
“I can’t tell,” Teddy said. “Upload that to IDware.”
Gabriel did. While they waited, he asked, "Why is she trying to kill me? I don’t know her.”
“She could be an assassin,” Teddy replied. “Maybe she’s coming after you for someone else. What about a Bratva hit?”
Gabriel was concerned for Halston. Though Teddy’s idea of going to the embassy was insane, he needed to warn her.
“I gotta get her outta there,” Gabriel said.
“You can’t, G,” Teddy said. “You blow her cover, she’s as good as dead. Don’t do that to her. She lived in Moscow for nine months. She’s got grit. Moxie too.”
“What is with you and words?”
Teddy smiled. “What do we have if not our ability to communicate?”
“You shoulda been a writer.”
“Stoni said it’s never too late to start.”
“Go for it,” Gabriel said. “What’s the diff between grit and moxie?”
“Grit is more about stamina and staying power. Moxie is about having audacity and a fearless spark. Moxie is about shaking things up. You have both.”
“I am the Agitator.”
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Love it,” Gabriel replied. “I gotta—at the very least—let Evangeline know.”
The program binged. Both men shifted toward the computer.
RESULTS: INCONCLUSIVE
NOTE: There is a sixty-percent chance the woman at the bar is the woman in the vehicle.
“That’s a good enough percentage for me,” Gabriel said as he patted Teddy on the back. “Grazie, fratello. You’re a good brother.”
Teddy pushed out of the chair. “The best. I’m gonna check with the chef on tonight’s dinner specials. Holler if you need me.”
“I always do.”
Gabriel called Evangeline.
“Hey, G, everything okay?”
“No,” he replied. “I got a hit on the woman who gunned down Angelo.”
“Who is it?”
“Natasha Petrova,” Gabriel replied. “She works at the Russian Embassy. Halston’s not safe. You gotta get her out.”
“Let me check the ALPHA tracker.” After a few seconds, Evangeline growled. “Dammit, she’s wearing the defective chip. Have you checked the wedding band app?”
“Hold on.” Gabriel pulled up the ring app. He saw himself, but no Halston.
Another jolt of dread punched through him.
“She’s not showing up.”
“Oh, no,” Evangeline murmured. “Either she’s in a location without signal or she took the ring off.”
“It’s all going so well,” Gabriel bit out, his sarcasm front and center. “When’s it going to start going wrong?”
“Now,” Evangeline replied. “It’s going wrong now, G.”
HALSTON
Natasha unshackled all the hostages while the brute pointed his weapon.
Then, the team of twelve were led into the main room.
Halston’s mom had explained that there were ten scientists—six men and four women—plus two spouses.
Halston’s mom wasn’t just a traveling companion, she was translating for the team… and now with Halston.
The man who wasn’t well relied on daily medications to safeguard his heart.
The medications, along with everyone’s personal belongings, were still in one of the vans.
Both vehicles had been parked on the side of the building, away from the entrance, to keep up appearances that the building stood empty.
Halston had uploaded several ten-second videos, hoping Evangeline could retrieve them. Even if she could, the GPS tracker in her neck was a dud, so Evangeline wouldn’t know where to find her. With any luck, her wedding band tracker was transmitting her current location.
Gabriel, check the tracker. I’m in the middle of who the hell knows where.
The scientists were busy working at their computers or discussing the situation in small groups.
Natasha had been standing in the corner talking to the Bratva, so Halston inched her way over to her mom, who’d been translating for one of the small groups.
Though most spoke English, her mom’s translations were clarifying talking points that continued to bring the team confusion.
“Mom,” Halston whispered. “How are you holding up?”
“This is terrifying,” her mom whispered. “They’re going to kill us once the work is done.”
“Don’t go there. Stay positive.”
“I’m concerned about Lars,” her mom whispered. “Maybe they’ll let you get his medication.”
“I’ll ask.”
Natasha broke from the guard, made her way toward Halston.
“Get me status,” Natasha said.
“Quels progrès avez-vous réalisés?” Halston asked her mom. What progress have you made?
Her mom asked that question of the group.
Her dad and another scientist answered. Her dad in English, the second scientist in Chinese.
Her mom translated in French to Halston.
“C'est lent. La connexion internet est constamment interrompue et nous n'avons jamais eu à gérer un problème d'une telle ampleur. Cela risque de nous prendre quelques jours.” It's slow.
The Internet keeps going out and we've never had to work through a problem of this magnitude. It might take us a few days.
Speaking Russian, Halston passed along the progress to Natasha.
Natasha sighed, then shook her head. “Bystreye “ Faster.
Halston got in her face. “Dostatochno.” Enough.
“Why hate me?” Natasha asked.
Halston’s growl echoed in the cavernous space. She was confident she could kill both Natasha and the guard, but she had to separate them first. And she had to isolate them from the scientists. For now, she would lie in wait, the hunter waiting for her prey to step into her trap.
Not long after, the guard left, returning with a tray of food. Bread and some meats. The scientists picked at the food, but no one ate much. Halston ate nothing, her stomach soured, her thoughts churning over possible ways to isolate their abductors.
Natasha kept stepping outside, staying no more than a minute or two, then hurrying back in. When the scientists returned to work, Natasha strode across the room and into the bitter cold. Based on the amount of gas the guard had been emitting, he probably went to take another shit.
Go, now!
Halston hurried across the room, hoping no one would call out to her.
She cracked open the door, the blast of cold air smacking her lungs.
She wanted to run outside and escape their captors, but she would never do that.
It wasn’t just her life she needed to protect, it was the twelve helpless individuals inside.
Despite the darkness, the lightbulb over the door illuminated Natasha. She stood fifteen feet away, phone to ear, her mouth agape. She’d fisted a crop of her dark hair as if trying to yank it by the roots.