Chapter 4
As Maks walked through Amsterdam, his strides were long and purposeful as he quickly covered ground.
It didn’t matter if it was the CIA, the FSB, or the Saints after him.
His cover had been blown. This moment had been inevitable.
He’d hoped to have more time to gather intel on the Saints, but he hadn’t finished going through everything he’d accumulated over the years.
There might be enough. And if there wasn’t…
well, then he would do whatever he had to do to get what he needed to bring the Saints crashing down.
They had governed the world for long enough.
They had no right to decide who would run countries, or who lived and died.
It was time they were exposed. It wasn’t going to be easy, though, and Maks knew that going against them would likely mean his life.
He was prepared to give it. Especially if it meant that the world could be free.
That people could actually elect officials as they were supposed to.
That they could speak out against the powerful and not incur some accidental death that was anything but accidental.
Maks made his way to Amsterdam Centraal.
Once inside the train station, he headed toward the east wing and the luggage lockers.
He halted in front of his number and glanced to either side of him.
The attendant that was always on duty glanced his way but otherwise seemed uninterested.
Maks opened the locker and reached for the black backpack inside.
He slung it over his shoulder and walked to the train.
As he passed one of the many shops, he swiped a baseball cap as he passed and put it on.
He didn’t slow until he reached his platform.
As he heard the train approaching, he glanced around him.
No one appeared to be following him, but he wasn’t going to take that for fact.
Just as the train was slowing at the platform, he jumped in front of it and rushed across the tracks to the opposite side where another train had just stopped, and passengers unloaded.
Maks fell into step with the crowd. As he walked up the stairs, he glanced back to the other platform and saw two men looking his way and rushing back up the steps.
When Maks reached the main floor on his side, he kept with the crowd and used the opportunity to get out of the station.
The area in the front of Amsterdam Centraal was a tourist mecca, even at night.
It offered boat rides, trams, and dozens of people on bikes, ringing their bells to alert unsuspecting passersby that they were in the bike lane.
The city had few cars, but that didn’t deter Maks.
He wound his way through the maze of streets and waterways, checking each vehicle along the canal until he found one that was unlocked.
He slung his pack into the passenger seat and got inside.
In minutes, he had it hotwired and pulled onto the narrow lane.
He needed to get somewhere out of the city, a place he could take a few minutes and think.
But getting out of Amsterdam was easier said than done with so many thoroughfares blocked off.
He’d memorized the street map long ago, though, so he knew which intersections to avoid and where to go to get out the quickest.
Once he was on the highway headed east toward Germany, he relaxed a little.
He didn’t stop until around two in the morning, parking at a rest area.
Maks turned off the ignition and grabbed his pack.
He looked through the different passports he had with various names, all of which he had acquired on his own without the CIA’s, FSB’s, or the Saints’ knowledge.
Years spent cultivating relationships with shady individuals had given him access to various things he knew he’d eventually need.
He flipped through the passports but set them aside since he didn’t know where he needed to go.
Blowing out a breath, he dug out a water bottle and drank the contents.
Since he didn’t know who was after him, it limited his destination choices.
Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary the day before. Everything had begun with that text.
Maks thought about the message. The phone was encrypted, which only meant that it was difficult for someone who didn’t know how to break through those protocols to get in.
It wouldn’t stop someone who really wanted information.
Honestly, there was only one set of people Maks could trust right now, but getting in touch with the Loughmans would be dangerous. But he didn’t have any other choice.
He blew out a breath and started the car again to pull back out onto the road.
He didn’t stop until the sun had come up.
The small village he’d entered was perfect.
He parked the car and wiped it of any prints, then he grabbed his pack and walked away.
Maks found a store and bought a water bottle, some protein bars, and a disposable mobile phone, all while making sure his face couldn’t be seen on any of the security cameras.
After he left the shop, he found an abandoned building and kicked in the door to get inside.
He checked the area to make sure no one was around, then he placed a call to Texas while tearing open one of the protein bars and taking a huge bite.
He chewed as the phone rang once, twice. On the third ring, the line connected.
“Hello?” said a female.
Maks smiled as he recognized Callie’s voice. “I wondered if the number would still work.”
“As long as you’re out there, it’ll always work.” Then, sounding muffled, she called, “Maks is on the line.”
Maks cleared his throat. “I’m in a bit of a bind. Hoping you can help.”
“Always. Switching you to speaker now,” Callie told him. “Everyone but Cullen and Mia are here. Tell us what’s going on.”
Maks looked down at the debris at his feet. He kicked a broken piece of glass. “I don’t know, exactly. Everything seemed to be fine. I was in Amsterdam when I got a peculiar text on my encrypted phone that I didn’t think anyone knew about.”
“Number?” Callie asked.
Maks quickly gave her to digits.
“You got rid of it, didn’t you?” Owen, the middle Loughman brother, asked.
“As soon as I shook the men following me.” Maks ran his free hand down his face. “I know I’ve always been watched, but no one’s ever sent anyone after me before.”
Wyatt grunted. The oldest brother then said, “You think it has something to do with the text?”
“I can’t imagine what else it could be.”
Natalie, Owen’s wife, asked, “What was the text?”
“I was just about to ask that,” Callie said.
Maks tightened his coat around him for warmth. “Watch yourself. That was all it said.”
“Do you know what it means?” Wyatt asked.
“Not a clue. More concerning is who it’s from, and how they got my number. I was able to trace it. His name was Luka Fedorov. An agent for the FSB.”
There was a beat of silence, then Owen said, “Was?”
“He was killed on a train out of St. Petersburg just minutes after he sent the message,” Maks explained.
The sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard came through the phone. “Give me a sec,” Callie said.
She was the best hacker he knew, which was why he’d called. If there had been a way for him to gain the information without involving the Loughmans, he would have. They wouldn’t understand it because, in their eyes, they were part of his mission to take down the Saints. And they were.
But they had survived attempts on their lives and still managed to come out ahead. If Maks could keep them out of the line of fire, then he would. They had earned at least that.
“Tell us about Luka,” Owen urged.
Maks briefly closed his eyes. “I knew him from the FSB. He was a high-ranking official who earned his position after years as a spy. He trained most of the assets currently out in the field. He’d even been captured and tortured by the Chinese for a few years back in the day. He’s a fucking hero.”
“You liked him,” Natalie said.
There was no denying it. “I did. Even though I didn’t exactly trust him and only met him a couple of times. He seemed genuine. His love for his people and country were evident.”
“Who do you think killed him?” Owen asked.
Knowing that would make things easier for Maks. “It could be the CIA. But they usually try to flip people like him to their side, not kill them.”
“Unless they thought he was about to spill some secrets,” Wyatt interjected.
“Maybe. But if there was something against the US, it would’ve been mentioned, and I heard nothing. That’s not to say there wasn’t something. Then there’s his agency.”
Natalie asked, “Do you think the FSB would do that?”
“They’ve done more for less,” Wyatt said.
Maks twisted his lips. “Wyatt’s right. They have. Every agency has. So, it could be them, especially if he was about to leak something about the head of the FSB or Russia.”
“Then there’s our favorite group,” Callie said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.
Maks rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah. It could be any of those three.”
“FSB, huh?” Wyatt asked. “How deep are you?”
“Deep.”
Owen sighed loudly. “And there’s nothing else going on that would put a target on you?”
“Other than me continuing to gather information about the Saints? No,” Maks told them.
Callie let out a whoop. “Okay, I got past the firewalls at the FSB. I won’t be able to stay long before they figure out their system has been breached. I looked up Luka Fedorov, and his record is stellar. He’s someone the US would want as an agent.”
“And someone his country wouldn’t want to let go of,” Natalie added.
“Wait,” Callie said before pausing. “Oh, shit.”
Maks frowned, wishing he could see whatever it was she was looking at. “What is it?”
“His record is being wiped as I’m reading it,” Callie said.
“Do they know you’re there?” Wyatt asked.
Maks listened as Callie furiously typed on the keyboard.