Charade (10 page)

Instead, she had learned to feel safe on her own. She hadn’t really appreciated until now how much her karate classes, running her own business and traveling alone all over the world had done for her. And once she had learned to feel self-sufficient, she had met Jeff, aka Summit. He made her feel safe, too, not by stifling her, but by encouraging and empowering her. By telling her she could do it. She could walk through a crowd of criminals with a receiver in her ear and a camera in her bra, accomplishing something that no one else had been able to do.

So what’s your bottom line on Jeff?
she
asked herself as the snow-covered German landscape rushed past her window.
Do you want him as your boyfriend or your handler?

She was pretty sure Jeff would never agree to be both. And maybe he was right. The closer they grew romantically, the less likely he’d be to send her into dangerous situations. He’d become more like her father, wouldn’t he?
Overprotective?
Not willing to take chances no matter how valuable the prize?

But as your boyfriend, wouldn’t he be that way anyway? So even if you got another handler, Jeff might interfere with your assignments. Or at least, worry whenever you were on one.

Discouraged, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and decided to get some sleep. There wasn’t anything she could do about the situation with Jeff at the moment, and if things didn’t go well in Kestonia, her love life was definitely going to become the least of her problems.

The four-hundred-mile boundary line surrounding Vlados Zelasko’s empire was for the most part impenetrable, consisting of craggy cliffs on three sides, marshy terrain on the fourth. Where stretches of crossable land occurred, a twelve-foot electrified fence had been erected to deter entry, with only one heavily guarded crossing station left on a single main road for ingress and egress.

As Sasha’s limousine approached that point, she tried to imagine who would even
want
to gain access to this place. It seemed like all the traffic should be in the other direction, with Kestonians dying—sometimes literally—to get out. Instead, according to recent newspaper accounts, the citizenry supported Zelasko and were proud of his efforts to turn their country into an international player.

But from Sasha’s viewpoint as they neared the heavily manned guard station, Kestonia was almost laughably unattractive, like something out of a poorly shot vampire movie. All she could see was desolate, snow-covered terrain culminating in a mountain, at the top of which stood a village dominated by a Gothic-style castle.

“I should have brought my pitchfork and a torch,” she told Tony.

“If Big Frankie could see this, he wouldn’t let you go one step farther.”

“Luckily, Big Frankie and Big Vlados have a gentleman’s understanding. I’ll be perfectly safe. But it
is
creepy, isn’t it?”

A guard carrying a machine gun approached them, ordering all occupants to vacate the limousine. Sasha and the men complied right away, but while the driver seemed nervous, Tony eyed the soldier with cool composure. “I’m escorting Sasha Bracciali to the castle at Zelasko’s invitation. So step aside.”

“She is invited. You are not,” the guard told him in simple but effective English. “We will drive her to the castle. You will drive away.
Quickly.”

“Bastardo,”
Tony began, but Sasha grabbed his arm and instructed tersely, “You need to go. They won’t hurt me unless you provoke them, so please, get back into the car.”

When he winced, she kissed his cheek with genuine gratitude. “You got me here safely. And if I’m lucky, you’ll be the one who picks me up next week. That way I’ll know my trip back to Roma will be a safe one.” Resting one hand on his arm, she reached with the other one to pat the driver’s shoulder. “Go on now.
Both of you.
I’ll be fine.”

The driver didn’t need any more encouragement before diving back into his seat, but Tony didn’t budge. Instead, he informed the guard, “It’s a free country, buddy, on this side of the line at least. So I think I’ll just stay for a while and watch.”

Touched, Sasha kissed his cheek again,
then
turned to the guard, who led her across the metal-paved border to a waiting jeep, where her suitcases were already being loaded. For some reason, that sight caused a tinge of panic to invade her confident mood. Or perhaps it was just foreboding. In any case, she found herself seriously wondering for the first time whether she and Teal would make it out of Kestonia alive.

Not that she wanted or needed Tony’s help. He’d probably just get in the way, so she was glad he was standing on the other side of the gate.

But she could certainly use a little assistance from a guy named Summit right about now, if only to hear his sexy, reassuring voice whispering in her ear as she left the safety of her father’s world and began the last leg of her journey to Vlados Alexander Zelasko’s ancient fortress.

“Hey, Jeff.
Look what I bought for Sasha.” Special Agent Winston Lowe opened a bakery box and revealed an oversize cannoli. “Get it? She said Vincent use to slip her a cannoli….”

“Grow the fuck up,” Jeff advised his subordinate, although he silently agreed that Sasha would enjoy the stupid joke. “Just get rid of that thing and concentrate on your job, will you?”

Winston arched an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”
Jeff shook his head, admitting to himself that it was true. Nothing was wrong, and everything was right. They were just about to nail Vincenzo the Butcher Martino. And Jeff was professionally and romantically entangled with the world’s sexiest female. He had no complaints, but still, something was nagging at the back of his mind. Some detail he had neglected, despite the fact that he was a detail man at heart.

“Sasha will laugh, Jeff. She loves this kind of thing.”

“Except she’s not going to be around this week.
Or next.
She took some time off.
To take care of some personal business.”

“That explains a lot,” Winston replied, flashing a pain-in-the-ass grin. “You’re grouchy when she’s here. But worse when she’s not.”

“Funny.” Jeff scowled, wondering if his associate was half as perceptive as he seemed. Probably not, but that didn’t change the truth. Jeff’s mood—not to mention his hormones—
had
been on a roller-coaster ride lately because of Sasha Bracciali. And now that he had kissed her—okay,
more
than kissed her—he was more confused than ever, to the point where he was actually considering a full-blown affair with her despite the obvious perils and conflicts.

“Where is she?” Winston persisted.

“Off the record?
She’s with her father.”

Winston’s eyes widened.
“Yeah?”

“It was bound to happen eventually. She’s his daughter. They couldn’t stay strangers forever.”

The younger agent pursed his lips. “I guess that proves you were right after all? She won’t be useful anymore?”

“Actually, I think I was wrong about that. This is a healthy step. For her and for us,” Jeff insisted. “It won’t interfere with her work, because it was never about the feud with Frankie in the first place.”

“You’re admitting you were wrong?” Winston whistled. “Man, this really
is
a day for surprises.”

Jeff scowled again, but inside, he had to admit it was true. After all his worrying, it was a relief to know that Sasha was just what she seemed to be—an amazing asset. Smart, dedicated, gorgeous, resourceful—and so sweet it made his teeth hurt.

He might have confessed as much to Winston, but at that moment, the door opened, and Chuck McBride came into the office, looking like he’d lost his last friend, and saying, “Hey guys” in a tone that suggested they were all doomed to a life of loneliness and despair.

Winston didn’t seem to sense his friend’s mood. Instead, he said brightly, “Look what I got for Sasha.
The cannoli of her dreams.
She’ll love it, right?”

Chuck didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, the huge dessert didn’t seem to register at all. Instead, he flopped into a chair and muttered, “We may have a problem, boss.
A big one.”

“Go on.”

Opening his briefcase, Chuck spilled its contents onto the conference table. “These are routine surveillance shots from O’Hare.”

Jeff walked over to take a look. “Did some new honcho hit town?”

“Nope.
Someone left.” He held up a picture of Sasha. “She boarded a flight for Rome Sunday night.”

Winston joined them instantly. “Rome? I thought you said she was with Frankie.”

Jeff cleared his throat. Then he said with a shrug that he hoped covered his shocked reaction, “Frankie has a town house in Rome. Maybe they decided to have their reunion there.”

“Except Frankie can’t leave the state.
Remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”
Jeff scowled. “That’s right.”

“That’s not all.” Chuck proffered a sheet of paper. “I checked her phone records, and she got a weird international call on Sunday.
From Kestonia.
That’s just wrong.
Right?”

“Kestonia?”
Jeff rubbed his eyes, trying not to listen to the alarm bells in his head. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent explanation for all this. Frankie sent her to Rome for a treat. And she’s got clients all over the world. Who told you to check her phone records anyway? She’s on
our
side, Chuck. Since when do we treat her like a suspect?”

“Sorry, Jeff.
I just figured you’d want to know what’s going on. She left the country, right? That’s significant.”

“It’s Sasha,” Winston interrupted loyally. “I agree with Jeff. There’s got to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. She fingered the Butcher, for Christ’s sake. If she didn’t prove herself with that, then what the hell will it take?”

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation,” Jeff agreed. “And I’ll find out what it is.
But meanwhile, nice work.”

Chuck rolled his eyes.
“Finally!
I thought you’d be glad to get some dirt on her. Even though I feel like crap for being the one to supply it. So let’s just figure it out once and for all, okay? I mean…” He eyed Jeff warily. “She’s in Italy. And Vincent the Butcher is there, too. That means something, right? Like maybe she isn’t on the level after all?”

“She’s in Rome. Vincent’s in Palermo,” Jeff muttered. “For Italians, that’s as different as Alaska from Hawaii, so let’s not crucify her yet, okay? I still think her father was so glad to see her, he gave her a trip. But I’ll check it out, because that’s our job.”

Chuck nodded. “When does your flight leave? For Rome, I mean. Wouldn’t it be weird if you ran into her there?”

“I’m rendezvousing with the international team in Rome, but we leave immediately for Palermo to take down Vincent. So I doubt I’ll be seeing Sasha.”

“Still—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jeff repeated, adding more diplomatically, “Like I said, nice work. Why don’t you guys just take the rest of the week off?”

Winston arched a skeptical eyebrow.
“Really?”

“I won’t be here. Neither will Sasha. So what is there to do? Just enjoy yourselves at the Bureau’s expense. You’ve earned it. But first—” he gave the younger agent a final, authoritative glare “—get rid of that goddammed cannoli.”

T here
were
soldiers everywhere.
Blank-faced, robotic men wearing black parkas over dark green uniforms and carrying rifles, machine guns and pistols.
They were in the jeep that transported Sasha up the mountain. They stood at attention along the narrow paved road leading to Zelasko’s stone fortress. When she finally alighted from the vehicle and approached the entrance, they surrounded her, their expressions still vacant. No trace of humanity, or sexual attraction, or chauvinistic sympathy.

Nothing.

Sasha had met more than her share of bad guys: sociopathic hit men, bloodthirsty sadists, calculating opportunists. But these Kestonians were different. Not necessarily scarier per se, but scarier to
her
because of their unfamiliar attitude.

As she walked toward the ten-foot-high double doors that had been opened to admit her, she craved the sound of Jeff Crossman’s voice in her ear. This was the first time in her life she had walked knowingly into danger without Summit to guide her. And at that moment she knew for sure that no matter how sexy he was, or how much fun he might be, she needed him more as a handler than as a boyfriend. She only hoped she’d have the chance to tell him that face-to-face before she died a lingering, painful death.

What did you expect?
she
asked herself as panic welled up inside her.
Did you really think you’d be safe here? Remember Mom?
The gentlest woman on earth, with the quote-unquote body of a goddess.
Everyone said so! But someone riddled that body with bullets without a second thought. Because killing for Big Frankie wasn’t just that thug’s job. It was his privilege.
His honor.
His destiny.

And these men feel the same way about Vlados Zelasko!

Too late, she realized that Delphi had been right. Even if the hacker hadn’t managed to access Sasha’s records, he or she had been suspicious enough to try. What if they had shared their suspicions with Zelasko?

If these soldiers suspect you’re working for the NSA, they’ll torture you for information about Teal! Then they’ll toss your beaten body into some hideous mass grave. Why didn’t you abort this crazy mission when you had the chance?

“Miss Bracciali?”

She managed to focus on the speaker, a thin man with a disturbingly nasty smirk.

At least he’s showing some emotion,
she observed wryly.
You know what Summit would say: Just smile and pretend to cooperate. Watch for an opportunity, and then get the hell out!

So she nodded and said sweetly, “Yes, I’m she. My father is Big Frankie Bracciali, a vital figure in Kestonia’s future. I’m here on his behalf. And I believe General Zelasko’s sister is expecting me.”