19. Tamara
TAMARA
I don’t even bother stealing PPE when I arrive at the dock where I first spotted the men with the serpent tattoos.
Hiding has gotten me nowhere. On the previous occasions when Ivana came to my rescue, it was because she saw me, she knew I was there, and she recognized that I was most likely going to get myself killed.
So, if I need to be bait, then that’s what I’ll do.
I ignore the dock workers who call out to me as I stride along the quayside, scanning necks and faces for a glimpse of inked serpent tattoos. They’re not here. I don’t recognize any of the ships moored up along the dock, or the men on board, unloading their cargo.
I walk back to the middle of the busy landing and yell, “Ivana! Where are you?”
Nothing.
Work stops. The men in hi-vis turn to stare at me like I just landed from outer space and declared war. A guy in a security jacket walks towards me.
“Ivana? Let me help!”
I march straight up to the security guy, staring straight at him, waiting for him to look away first. He does before I’m even within touching distance.
“I’m leaving,” I say without breaking my stride. “My sister is being held captive here somewhere, and if you’d done your fucking job, you’d have stopped the bastards from taking her.”
I don’t wait around. A taxi is waiting to take me to the next dock.
The same thing happens. The men stare at me like I’ve grown a second head, the security guys gape like I just escaped from a lunatic asylum, and the Petrovs are nowhere to be seen.
But everything feels different when I reach the Iroquois Landing, and my pulse races. It would be fitting to find Ivana here, at the place where I met Finn because she’d served me a red herring to get me out of the way.
The dock is busy, but the workers’ movements feel orchestrated, unnatural, like they know they’re being watched and are following the rules to not get caught out.
I spot a couple of security guards at one end of the harbor closest to the office building.
I check out the ships moored up in a line, the men loading and unloading cargo, the trucks with their ramps down and the drivers overseeing the load.
I can’t quite put my finger on what’s different here when everything looks the same as before, but then, at the far end of the dock I spot the men I’ve been looking for.
The men who trapped me inside a shipping container when I got too close to them before. The same men Ivana has been watching.
Which means that she’s either here right now or they’ve already gotten to her.
Time for me to save my sister and get us both the fuck away from Chicago.
I don’t even recall making that decision, but once it’s out there, I realize that it’s the only thing to do.
Leonid tried to stop me from finding my sister.
Finn would try to stop me too if he knew that I was pregnant with his child, and all that bullshit about letting me fly would turn to ash.
Instead, he would try to control me the way Leonid has done, and dress it up as protecting me and the baby so that he’s still the good guy.
Well, I already told him I don’t need protection.
And I sure as fuck am not letting anyone control my child’s life.
This child is going to know what freedom tastes like, and the only monsters they’ll believe in will be the kind with blue fur, purple spots, and a voice that sounds suspiciously like John Goodman.
The security guys have their heads together, conveniently facing in the opposite direction to the Russians. Suits me.
I grab a hi-vis vest from the back of an open truck. I can’t find a spare hard hat, so I proceed without one. As I approach the Russian workers, I call out, “Hey, who gave you permission to unload that container?”
The men standing on the dock raise a hand to the guys on deck, warning them to hold fire while they sort out the paperwork.
I stare at the container like I know exactly what’s inside it and have no intention of approving it for offloading in the Port of Chicago. “Who did you speak to in the office?”
One of the men who attacked me is lurking close to the ship’s ramp.
He must not have recognized me yet, or if he has, he can’t believe that I would have the balls to show my face a second time.
It works in my favor because the guy closest to me plants his feet squarely and blocks my view of what’s going on behind him.
“Ya ne govoryu po-angliyski,” he says in Russian. I don’t speak English.
I repeat the question in Russian and watch his eyes narrow as he looks me up and down and balls his hands into fists.
“We have written approval from the port authorities.” He steps closer, trying to intimidate me with his size.
“I need to check it.” I maintain eye contact. “Your men must stop work until further notice.”
“Where is your ID?” He stands his ground, and I get the first icy trickle of fear down my spine that he knows who I am, and he knows who I’m looking for.
“Perhaps you’d like to accompany me to the office and speak to my manager.” I half-turn and gesture to the building at the opposite end of the dock.
Coming with me will waste time. It will also draw attention to the men standing around while the truck driver’s clock ticks, and the cargo goes nowhere.
I watch indecision play out behind his dark eyes before he says, “That won’t be necessary. Come with me. The paperwork is below deck.”
I follow him towards the ramp, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on his back, and his men in my peripheral vision.
Maybe it’s my lucky day, because the guy who locked me inside the shipping container has either left the dock while we were talking or has boarded the ship.
Either way, I don’t have to worry about him recognizing me and raising the alert.
My companion doesn’t glance around to check if I’m behind him. He has a holster strapped to his waist and tattoo sleeves covering his arms and the back of his neck. From the way the other Russians step aside for him, I’m guessing that he is either an enforcer for the Petrovs, or he’s family.
If it comes to it, he’s the one I take down first.
He has almost reached the top of the ramp when I hear screeching tires from somewhere behind us and then a crash that makes my heart skitter.
I turn around to find a vehicle with blacked-out windows embedded in the side of the truck waiting to transport the Russians’ cargo away from the port. The truck rocks, the walls shaking from the impact.
Ivana?
A whistle blows through a loudspeaker.
Loud voices fight to be heard as workers start running towards us.
Smoke is billowing from the engine of the vehicle embedded in its side, and a car alarm is setting my teeth on edge.
The Russian grabs my wrist and drags me up the ramp towards the deck, and every instinct screams at me to run as nausea rushes to the surface.
I shouldn’t be here. I would die in a heartbeat to save my sister, but the unborn child in my belly doesn’t have that choice, and I have no right to take that away from them.
“Let me go!” I slide the blade from my pocket and slice his lower arm lengthways.
The instant he releases me I reach for my gun and put a bullet through his chest.
Then I run.
The ramp shakes beneath my pounding footsteps. I hear another gunshot from the deck and leap the last few feet, landing awkwardly on a coiled rope on the quayside and rolling sideways. I see the edge of the dock speeding towards me with a steep drop on the other side between me and the moored ship.
I reach out for the cable connected to the closest electrical point and slow my momentum as my right leg drops over the edge. Shit. I don’t even know how deep the water is here, or how far down it is to the water’s surface.
Heart thudding, I lie there for a moment, listening to the chaos raging around the dock.
Footsteps thump towards me. Before I can drag myself upright, I’m hauled onto my feet by the Russian who shoved me into the container before. A gun is shoved into my lower back, and his arm wraps around my neck.
“Make a sound, and I’ll fucking shoot.”
He drags me back towards the ramp, but we’re shielded from view by other members of his organization, all dressed in black, forming a barrier around us with their wide shoulders and thick thighs.
My head barely reaches my captor’s shoulders.
So, I dig my heels in and center my weight in the lower half of my body, knowing that he will pick my feet up off the floor and carry me, even if it means strangling me in the process.
I have to time it right before he cuts off my air supply completely with his arm around my neck.
As predicted, he yanks me up and backwards, and I grip his forearm with both hands for leverage and headbutt him.
I feel his nose crack beneath the back of my skull.
He loosens his grip enough for me to slide out from underneath his arm and sink my blade into his foot, one hard kick to his shin sending him sprawling towards the narrow gap between the dock’s edge and the ship.
I’m down to my gun now, but I can’t think about that.
I don’t register the Russians retreating towards the ship they’re trying to unload. Or the lack of security stepping in to resolve the situation.
All I know is that by coming here today, alerting the Russians to my presence, and almost getting myself killed on board a Russian vessel, I’ve done exactly what Leonid wanted to avoid when he took my weapons and confined me to the house.
He was right: I am a fucking liability.
Breathing heavily, I stumble forward, straight into familiar arms that make me cry out loud. “Finn?”
“Are you hurt?” He keeps me at arm’s length, looking for blood.
I shake my head. “What are you—”
I’m cut short when a bullet whistles past his head, causing us both to turn and watch the vehicle approaching us with blacked-out windows.
I recognize it instantly. Even so, it takes me a beat too long to react when it squeals to a halt and Andrej Ivanov climbs out.
He’s heading straight for me and Finn, yelling, “Get away from him, Tamara!”
Closer. He’s holding a gun in each hand, and his dark eyes are fixed on Finn, and hormones are confusing everything that’s going on internally, so the only thing that makes sense is that Andrej thinks Finn is with the Petrovs.
Numb to everything but the hatred in Andrej’s eyes, I stand in front of Finn and face him full on.
“Tamara what are you doing?” Finn reaches for my hand and tries to pull me out of the way, but I don’t move.
“Get out of the way!” Andrej shouts again, signaling with the gun in his left hand.
“Tamara!” Finn spins me around to face him, and I see it in his eyes. He knows that I’m pregnant.
There is no time for him to say more. Andrej is beside me, his gun pressed against Finn’s temple, and his strong cologne flooding my senses.
My body erupts like a volcano, and I lean sideways, retching onto the dock, bile splashing the coiled length of rope that saved me from falling into the water a short while ago.
The two men freeze. Maybe I should’ve tried vomiting as a tactic before.
Then, Finn is rubbing my back and holding my hair away from my face, and I vaguely hear him warn Andrej, “Stand the fuck back and give her some space.”
Tears sting my eyes as hysteria bubbles in my chest. Hormones suck. I don’t know whether to bury my head against Finn’s chest and let him hold me, or shove him away and yell at him, “I don’t need your help!”
“Is she alright?” Another familiar voice, and this one tips me over the edge, tears finally mingling with the saliva clinging to my chin.
Finn won’t think I’m sexy as fuck now.
Even if he can get past Leonid.
“She just needs some space.” Finn’s voice grips my heart and squeezes till it hurts.
“Was this your idea?” Leonid practically growls.
“To save her?” Finn retaliates. “Sure. Although she could’ve defended herself if she had her own weapons.”
There’s a beat’s silence in which I straighten and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before I turn around to face them.
“I’m taking you home, Tamara.” Leonid steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder, taking control. “Enough now.”
“Enough?” I bat his hand away and lock eyes with him.
“Have you found Ivana?” I don’t give him the opportunity to respond.
“Would it be enough if Gianna were missing? Or Cartier? Would you leave these docks for a moment if you thought that your wife was being held captive by those fucking assholes?”
“No,” Leonid says, his jaw clenched. “You’re right, I would tear this dock apart with my bare hands if they had Gianna, but you forget that Ivana left by choice.
She knew exactly what she was doing when she walked away from us, and your behavior tonight has destroyed all the progress I’ve made towards bringing her home. ”
My knees buckle, and Finn’s arm slides around my shoulders, holding me up as if he knew I would collapse before I did.
Leonid could be bluffing, but what if he is telling the truth?
What if I’ve signed Ivana’s death certificate myself by coming here today?
“Steady,” Finn whispers in my ear. “Remember, sweetheart, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Let’s go.” Andrej’s voice is cold. “You don’t belong with these people.”
“These people?” Another voice enters the fray. An Irish accent, and a vaguely familiar face. Aiden Kavanagh, Finn’s boss. “Is that any way to talk about your allies?”
Leonid inclines his head to greet the Irish leader, and I cast my eyes around the dock at the smoke still pouring from the car engine, the security guards keeping a respectable distance, and the Russians being supervised at gunpoint by Leonid’s men.
“The agreement is off,” Leonid says.
I snap my attention back to the small group surrounding me. What agreement? When did Leonid and Aiden become allies? And why is he calling it off now?
“Forgive my confusion.” Aiden scratches his head theatrically, mussing up his hair. “But I thought we were all working towards the same goal. Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“The agreement will only work on mutual trust.” Leonid keeps his voice ominously low. “You lied to me. I’ve killed people for less.”
Aiden fucking smiles at him, and my stomach clenches.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it, Pakhan. However, you might want to get your facts straight before you accuse me of being a liar.
Because if there’s one thing I hate as much as fucking perverts who profit from women and children, it’s a man who wears integrity like a badge and doesn’t back it up with his actions. ”
“You’ve been hiding my enforcer.” Leonid’s shoulders shift backwards and he relaxes his spine. It’s the action of a snake waiting to strike.
Aiden glances at me and Finn, realization passing behind his eyes.
“Wrong.” My voice rings out before Finn can confess. “They haven’t been hiding me, Leonid. But I’m not going with you.”
His brows furrow when he looks at me.
“I choose them.”