29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Finn
I ’m driving Lorcan’s compact car like it’s a Formula One masterpiece. The engine is at full whine while we buzz along the highway to Belfast. We hustled out of the mansion after grabbing most of our stuff without being seen. Carys would have been pissed if I left her clothes behind, and since we weren’t being shot at, I stuffed shit in a suitcase. Couldn’t get everything.
Lorcan’s talked to Kim, and Jade dropped the truth on Carys at the end of dinner, along with a hell of a threat, so our quiet escape didn’t mean much. The urge to speak to her is thrumming through my veins, but if her voice cracks, I’ll turn the car around and go back to the mansion to hold everyone there hostage until Jade returns.
If her danger is real, confronting her right now won’t keep Lucas and the rest of them on Cape Verde safe. My usual slash-and-burn strategy won’t work. What I wouldn’t give to unleash the full force of Finn off his leash on Jade and Pierre-Jacques. No one has ever stood toe to toe with me and won. They won’t be the first.
I can only hear Lorcan’s side of the conversation in the vehicle, but his tone tells me I won’t like what’s happening. He’s muttered Jesus too many times for me to believe there’s anything good to report. “Right, yeah. I’ll ring you back.”
“What is it?” My voice is tight with tension.
“Demid Kunznetsof was killed in a car bomb earlier today.”
“Holy shit,” I mutter and bang my fist against the steering wheel. “How are they a step ahead of us?”
“I reckon they’re more than one, brother. We’re playing catch-up on all sides.” He stares out the passenger window. “Volkovs and Kunznetsofs were in bed together?”
“Enough.” I wonder if his mind is heading where mine is.
“Who can you call to find out where Semyon and Hagen are?” Lorcan peers at me in the darkness. The streetlights flash across his serious face at regular intervals.
“I’m not asking the Volkovs for help.”
“What choice do we have? The CIA aren’t going to offer protection. I asked. Not part of your deal—or mine.” He grimaces.
“Well, screw them. Maybe I won’t fulfill my part of the deal.” Bullshit tough talk. I will because I don’t want Carys and Lucas to be hunted with me for the rest of my life.
The thought of slipping away, back to Cape Verde, has occurred to me. Take my woman and run. What would the consequences for my brother be if I did that? Would he end up suffering the CIA’s wrath for not keeping me under control? The only time I’ve ever thrown him to the wolves was in the warehouse when he picked Kim over me. Never occurred to me then how hard I’d find a choice between him and Carys. His position was impossible, and I don’t even begrudge him anymore for the non-life-threatening bullets he pumped into me.
“Here’s the thing,” he says. “Her sister’s revenge on her mother, on whoever else she thinks has slighted her, will play out. You’re not going to leave her threats unanswered, especially since she’s making them against Carys and Lucas. Let’s not pretend walking away is even an option.”
I let out a frustrated grunt. “I can’t go to Hagen. He tried to fuck me over in prison.”
“Then approach Semyon.”
“The old man is far more cunning than his son. If I ask him, he’ll demand something I don’t want to give in return.”
“If you don’t make the call, and she finds out later you could have saved her son and didn’t…”
He doesn’t need to tell me the lengths I’ll go to for her. I’ve been living them from the minute she dragged my ass out of the warehouse.
She’s forgiven me a lot, understands me better than anyone, and while she might not like what I have to sacrifice to keep Lucas safe, she’ll never forgive me for letting him die. “Grab my phone. Call Sean in Boston. Our organization has been eaten up by the Volkovs. He’ll know where to find Semyon.”
“I can’t talk to him.” His tone is heavy with meaning. “He’ll recognize my voice, and as far as the world knows, I’m dead.”
I squeeze the steering wheel and then rub my face. “Right. Put him on speakerphone or Bluetooth or whatever.”
He dials Sean’s number on my phone from memory, and then we wait.
“Sean Hastings.” His familiar pitch stretches across the car, yanking me back to another time and place. So long ago, and yet not. Months that’ve felt like years.
“It’s Finn. I need to know where Semyon is right now.”
“Finn? What the hell, man? You broke out of prison.” Sean chuckles. “When I saw it on the news, I wasn’t even surprised.”
“No one can keep me down,” I say. “Where’s Semyon?”
“Why?” Sean shifts from amused to wary. “You gonna get me in trouble?”
This time I laugh. “Only if you tell him you told me. He’s not gonna hear it from me.”
There’s a long pause. “You calling because Demid Kunznetsof is dead?”
“Does it matter?” I grit out, already tired of this conversation. The days when I could bark out an order and get a response on the spot with the word ‘sir’ tagged on are over. Should have enjoyed them more.
“I don’t know if I should tell you, man. Things have been weird between you and Hagen for a while.” He takes a deep breath. “Semyon’s got like ten guys with him. You won’t get past his guards.”
“Just tell me where he is,” I pitch my voice low. “I’m out now.” I let the implication fill the phone line for a beat. “You wanna be counted as a friend or an enemy?”
“He’s in Belfast at a hotel. A stopover on the way to Russia. He’s going there to secure Demid’s assets.” The words tumble out of Sean without hesitation. “I’m the middle guy. I’m not worth your time.”
Which is why he couldn’t hold on to the organization once Lorcan and I were gone. Guys at the top have to do whatever it takes to stay there. Someone calls with a threat? Come at me, fucker . ’Course, that only applies when you’re at the top. When you’re scrambling for purchase like me, you have to spend your street cred wisely. Sean is a good investment. Going after Semyon is not. Wish I had a better option.
Sean’s given me enough information to track the Volkov patriarch. I punch the hang-up button with my finger without bothering to say anything else.
“Think he’ll call Semyon?” Lorcan asks with his eyebrows raised.
“The old Sean? The guy loyal to me? Not a chance. But he’s not my man anymore.” I sigh. “At least we got a bit of luck. Semyon is close.”
“A narrow window.” He opens a search engine on his phone. “We’ve got to find his hotel and get to him before he catches his next plane.”
When we arrive at the bar where Carys, Jay, and Kim are waiting for us, Lorcan and I have carved out a plan. A desperate, risky ploy, but we don’t have the time or resources for something more ironclad. If Sean called Semyon, he might already know we’re coming. The request we’re making has to be done in person, or he’ll never listen to a word we have to say. Semyon will be our captive audience.
When I enter the pub, I scan every table and booth for Carys’s blond head. Kim waves to Lorcan near the back, and the two of us walk in tandem to them. Jay glances up from his phone, and there’s a haunted look in his eyes. I expect Carys to have the same expression, but when our gazes meet, she’s full of determination.
“I’m not giving up. Or rolling over. There has to be a way,” she says.
“There is,” I admit. She throws herself into my arms, and I hold her close, breathing her in. She might not appreciate whatever Semyon asks of me in exchange for his protection, but I’ll give him anything—anything—to keep her safe.
Lorcan slips into Carys’s abandoned spot and starts relaying the plan to Kim and Jay in hushed tones. We have to move fast.
“Everyone is already on my private plane, headed in this direction.” Carys glances over her shoulder at Kim. “Her idea, and I didn’t have a better solution.”
“It’s good.” I smooth her hair. “It’s a start.”
“Are you going to tell me?” She peers up at me.
“In the car,” I say. “We gotta go.”
Lorcan kisses Kim’s temple before sliding out of the booth with Jay. They follow us to the vehicle we parked illegally right outside the pub.
We’re no sooner buckled up with Carys wedged between Jay and Kim in the rear when Carys says, “I’m not going to like it, am I?”
“No.” I steer toward the hotel. Lorcan called the high-end establishments close to the airport asking for Semyon Volkov’s room. When a receptionist said, ‘please hold while I connect you’ Lorcan hung up.
“Who does this plan involve?” she asks.
“Semyon,” Lorcan says, ripping off the proverbial Band-Aid. “We’re asking Semyon for help.”
Carys’s gaze meets mine in the mirror, and her amber eyes are clouded with worry. Neither of us will say it, but we understand cornering Semyon is a Hail Mary.
Until the kids are safe, going after Jade like I want to isn’t possible.
The hotel is more American in style than European. The lobby and bar areas are spacious and well lit. None of the elevators groan when a car approaches, which is good because Carys and I are stationed there, making out. Our task is to appear so into each other we can’t keep our hands—and lips—to ourselves. Not hard. Well, something is hard, but it’s not our roles in this deception. Christ, I can’t wait until I can get her alone again.
Behind us at the front desk, Kim is introducing herself to the receptionist. A gift for Semyon Volkov. If there’s one thing Semyon can’t resist, it’s a prostitute. So, we’re sending him one as a ‘welcome’ gift from a rival organization in Russia. It’s plausible, but we’re counting on him to enjoy the ego stroke too much to confirm the present before welcoming Kim into his room.
Since he’s met Kim before, Carys worked makeup magic to play up her more exotic features, and she borrowed a dress from Carys’s suitcase—too small, too bright, and too tight, but just right for the mission. With any luck, he’ll be focused on assets other than Kim’s face.
When she pads over to the bank of elevators, she stumbles and giggles, pretending to be high or drunk. Semyon’s guards who are accompanying her steady her to keep her from toppling over. Before the doors to the elevator close, I tug Carys into the far corner. Let’s see how many ways I can make her moan. The highlight of my night.
“Get a room,” one of the security guards mutters to us and averts his gaze.
“Working on it,” I growl in response and slide my hand up Carys’s skirt.
Never a woman to worry about an audience, she gasps and cries, “Oh, yes. Right here. Oh, God. Yes. Yes.”
Her acting is fantastic since I’m nowhere close to pushing her button. I’m going to have to get a replay of this later—assuming we survive. The elevator dings, and Kim and the guards pile out. Carys and I slip out behind them, and I practically carry her down the hall, pretending to fumble for a keycard I don’t have.
At the door to Semyon’s room, there are two more men. We counted on more security outside the room. If he’s got guys in there with him, we might be in trouble. These four, we can handle.
Kim staggers, crying out when she almost falls. Two of the guards are trying to heave her up, and the other two are watching. Lorcan and Jay are on them before they have a chance to react. All four are felled by the same drug we used on Pierre-Jacques earlier.
We hustle along the hall to the group. Kim digs a keycard out of the pocket of the guard closest to her and passes it to me. She’s no fan of the Volkovs either.
To avoid being spotted, Kim and Lorcan disappear down the staircase to the waiting car, which leaves me, Jay, and Carys. I squeeze Carys’s hand before I swipe the keycard and release her to take out my gun.
“Ah, is she here?” Semyon calls from within the spacious, neutrally decorated room. “What a nice—” The words die on his lips when he sees me, Carys, and Jay with guns pointed at him.
No guards inside his room. That’s a win for us. I would’ve done the same, but it’s careless and overconfident. He strides toward his phone, but it’s closer to us. I lunge for it, getting it before he can signal for help. If he did bring ten guys, there’s six other men somewhere in the hotel.
“I could yell.” He reads my mind. “I’ve got other security on this floor.”
“So have I.” I bluff. “You don’t think I came alone, do you? Want a bloodbath or a conversation? Your blood will be the first spilled.” I smirk.
He eyes me, his reptilian gaze enough to send other people to their knees. There’s no mercy in him, which is a thing we used to have in common. Right now, I’m wishing we still did. It’s harder to negotiate when I actually give a shit about the outcome.
“When I heard you were out, I wondered if you’d come.” He eases into the desk chair. “Didn’t expect your visit quite this soon. I suppose I should have expected it somewhere other than America. Too risky for you there.” He picks up the pen on the desk and rotates it over his fingers.
“You thought I’d come for you?” My gaze narrows. For the shit Hagen tried to pull in jail? That’s between me and Hagen, and someday we’ll talk about how stupid he was for trying to get me, of all people, to follow his orders.
Why would I go after him for his son’s maneuver?
“What do you want?” Semyon raises his eyebrows.
I shake off my train of thought and zone in on what’s important. “I need protection for people.”
He taps his lip with his index finger and stares at Carys. “Your son?”
“And my family,” Jay adds.
He narrows his gaze. “I’ll negotiate with her—alone.”
“That won’t work.” While I don’t think he’s dumb enough to try and hurt her, I’m not letting her float in water filled with chum. Semyon is a shark.
“Then I suppose my answer is no to your request for protection. You can leave.”
“It’s fine.” Her hand rests on my forearm.
“Jay stays.” I stare down the old man who reminds me too much of my father. “I’m not leaving her in here alone with you.”
An answering smirk touches his lips. “Something I always liked about you Finny, boy. When your back’s against the wall, you still come out swinging. Fine. He can stay.”
The keycard from the door is in my rear pocket. If she screams or even raises her voice, I’m storming in the door, and a bullet will be lodged in Semyon’s brain.
Carys and Jay are framed in the open door as it eases to a close behind me. What will Semyon ask in exchange, and will it be something we’ll both be able to live with?