Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“It’s really quite simple.” Konstantin smiled at Simone. “You do your job, and everyone lives to see another day.”
She was still in the back of the damn car. Her right cheek throbbed because he’d hit her, hard. But Simone had left her mark on him, too. Konstantin currently sported jagged claw marks going down his cheeks and his right eye was still bloody.
He’d done something to his phone earlier. Even tossed part of it from the moving vehicle. They’d driven and driven, seemingly going in circles through the city before they’d stopped.
“You are supposed to be incredible at your job. That’s certainly what Logan swears.”
“I’m fucking sorry,” Logan bit out. He sounded miserable. He’d been miserable during every single one of his apologies.
But she understood what was happening. Nana’s life was on the line, and Logan had needed to choose…Me or her.
“It’s the perfect time for you to break inside. This is a CIA black site. I’ve had eyes on the location for the last twelve hours.”
He had?
“Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “You think I didn’t know that Ryan Quinn and the CIA were trying to take me down? They are always trying. Always failing. All I have to do is pay the right people for the right intel, and I stay steps ahead of them all.”
Fine, if his money could do so much then…“Can’t you just pay those same people to get your chip back?”
“No.”
Understanding dawned. “That means you tried, huh?” Simone flashed a teasing smile that made her throbbing cheek ache a bit more.
“No dice? Too bad.” She cleared her throat.
“Have you considered that the CIA already got all the info off your precious chip and that retrieving it does nothing at this point? Kinda like shutting the doors of a stable after a big stallion has already raced out to freedom with you clinging wildly to his back.”
“They have only begun their work with the chip. It has advanced hardware security and encryption. Retrieving it is key for me. And I also just want the fucking egg back. The CIA doesn’t get to have what is mine.”
“Of course not. Not like you’d want to share your toys with others.” Another big smile. “Here’s a thought. Maybe if you wanted to keep the egg, then you shouldn’t have given it to Frederick in the first place?”
He smiled in return. “You won’t be so pretty when you have slices going across your face.”
“You already have slices going across yours,” she threw back even as fear raced through her.
“You fucking sonofabitch.” Logan tried to heave into the back seat. He’d heaved before, when she got punched, and he’d been hauled back by the driver.
The driver grabbed for him again, and, this time, he sliced a blade across Logan’s cheek.
“No!” Simone screamed.
“Doesn’t fucking matter.” Logan ignored the blood that poured from his cheek. “Cut me all you want. I never gave a shit about being pretty.” And his laughter was cold. Hard.
Konstantin pointed his gun at Logan.
“This will turn around on you,” Logan promised. “You think I’ll ever let you just walk away after what you’ve done to the two women I care about most in this world?”
“I think I’ll kill you now.” A nod from Konstantin. “You’re really not useful to me any longer.”
“No!” Simone screamed because she was terrified he’d shoot Logan right in front of her.
She couldn’t handle that. Simone knew she’d shatter apart.
“I’ll go in. I’ll get your prizes back, but Logan does not die, understand me?
You don’t shoot him. Your goon in the front does not slice him.
You keep your hands off him, and I’ll do what you want. ”
Konstantin angled his head toward her. “Was that so hard? A little cooperation can go a long way.”
Her heart slammed over and over into her chest. A rhythm that hurt.
“Cooperation.” She’d come to despise that word.
“Everyone seems to be asking me about that lately. Know what? There’s this lady who is super into cooperation.
The two of you need to meet. Soon. Bet you’d have one hell of a fun time together.
” I bet Jezebel Jenkins will toss your ass into a deep, dark hole, and you will never be seen again.
“Get in the building. Do not set off any alarms. Retrieve my possessions.”
“I need blueprints. Schematics that will show me where the alarms are. I need locations of any guards.” Getting into a CIA site was going to be incredibly difficult. “It will take a few days to prep—”
“You’re going in now. Only a small staff should be inside.”
Should be?
“Most of the agents would have rushed out recently. Probably because of that dead MI6 agent we left behind.”
“You…you knew that Harry was an MI6 agent?”
“I know lots of things.”
How fantastic for him.
“The dead MI6 agent and your dead CIA friend…they were great distractions.”
Ryan could not be dead.
“This the best time to infiltrate the facility and acquire my items.” Konstantin was so confident.
Ryan could not be dead. “Blueprints,” Simone said again, her voice tight with pain. “And I-I need tools. I will need—”
He put down his gun. Reached under the seat and pulled out a small, black bag. “Here you go.” He slapped a flashlight into her palm. And what turned out to be a tiny lock picking set.
She stared at the items. Hysterical laughter wanted to bubble from her. “You can’t be serious. You expect me to infiltrate a CIA site and steal two super valuable items with only a flashlight and a lock picking set?” Talk about an impossible task.
“That’s exactly what I expect. If you don’t, if you alert anyone, if you try to reach out for help from anyone, then when you come back to this car, you’ll find Logan’s dead body. In Vegas, that sweet, precious Nana will also be dead. And you’ll follow them to hell soon enough after that.”
“So I get in with a flashlight.” She inhaled. “And the tiniest lock picking set in the world. Sure, why not?” Simone looked toward the front seat. Blood drenched the side of Logan’s face.
“Piece of cake,” he told her. “You got this.”
She did not. Not in any way, shape, or form. “We could really use some good luck right about now…”