Hard Target (10 page)

“I need a Plan B.”

“Get your woman to safety.”

“The safest places I know are with
Koyla
and Grandfather.”

Dmitry rolls up his shirtsleeves, revealing the edge of a spider web. I cannot tell if the spider is going up or down from this angle—or rather if Dmitry will continue to work for the Bratva. “You could send her there.”

“I could.”

“I could take her for you.”

“You could.”

“But?” he asks.

“She would no longer be at my side.” That is the crux of the matter. I need her more than life itself and yet to admit that…

“Grandfather would guard her with his life.”

“You’ve spoken to him.” It’s not a question.

“
Da.
He is impressed with her bravery. She’s different, that one, from your brother’s woman. Everly is soft, which makes
Koyla
soft.” He doesn’t mean this as an insult, but it’s not exactly a compliment.

“In some ways, Morgan is more vulnerable than Everly, while in others…” I shrug, but Dmitry knows exactly what I can’t put into words.

“Send her to Grandfather so you can concentrate on the problem at hand.”

He makes it sound so easy, as if sending her to Grandfather is a foregone conclusion. “If I do this… I trust
only
you to get her there safely.”

Dmitry smiles, revealing white teeth. “That’s because I’m the only one who can.”

Benjamin

T
he next morning,
with less than twenty hours to go, I drive the rest of the way to Paris. Morgan peppers me with questions about Paris, the bank, and what to look for when get closer.

“The bank has a distinctive red cross. You can’t miss it.” I recheck my messages every ten minutes, but there’s still no word from Violet. “Give me the flash drive, love.”

Slowly, she removes the necklace and hands it to me. I lift my hips slightly and shove it deep into my pocket.

“I didn’t mind wearing it.”

Yet another reason why I don’t deserve you, but will protect with you my dying breath. “We’re too close to the end for you to be caught with it around your neck. I don’t want to give anyone ideas.” The very real threat of kidnapping Morgan is at the forefront of my mind. “The Wraith Organization, if they are in fact the ones behind this, have no compunctions about murdering innocent women.”

“You said that he thought I was Olivia.”

“Do you think Olivia deserves to die?”

“No. Not at all.” She shakes her head. “She’s a real bitch about people
stealing
her unlabeled sandwiches, though that’s not enough to want her fatally hurt.”

My mouth quirks. “I take it that you were one of the accused.”

“Her brother Oliver said that it was Sandwich Day and gave it to me. How was I to know it’s not an official Commonwealth holiday? She yelled at me in front of Mr. Pinter as well as a Japanese delegation that was interested in our vaccination strain of R7P.”

She has a point. “Not your fault.”

“See, even you agree with me. And you were the worst one about the rules. So freaking strict.”

“Lower level employees liked to gossip, eh?”

Morgan grins. “They liked to talk about your tight bum and your big… paycheck.”

“My paycheck is not for public consumption.”

She eyes me. “Am I allowed to confirm that your paycheck is bigger than we all thought?”

If there is one thing I can say about Morgan is that she keeps me guessing with what will come out of her mouth next. “I’ll pay for a full spread in The Daily.”

She snorts. “You are so conceited.”

“Wait. What? You’re the one who brought up the size of my paycheck, not I.”

“Oh my gosh.” Her eyes are full of mirth as she giggles. “Say that again.”

“Say what?”

“
That
.”

I give her a look. “That what?”

“You’re
so
posh.”

“You’re bloody confusing.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighs heavily. “I’m trying to keep a positive outlook and when I get nervous or scared, I like to joke around.”

I glance at her, and then back at the road. “I’m the same way. Well, I used to be worse, actually.”

“Really?”

“Truly.” I laugh a little. “I used to annoy the shite out of my brother, but what he didn’t know was that I was afraid Grandfather would send me back at any minute because I wasn’t cut out to be an assassin like Nikolai and wasn’t earning my keep. I thought by telling jokes that I would make them like me so much that they’d forget about what I wasn’t good at doing.

“Didn’t need to worry though,” I add.

“Why is that?”

“Grandfather said he had enough assassins. He said that Romanovs needed to look to the future. I was the future of the
Bratva
. The next day, there was a laptop sitting on my bed when I woke up.” Yet, he still taught me how to take a life.

“That was how I felt with my parents and granny. I was there to entertain them or they didn’t pay me any attention. When my dad would come around, I tried to make him smile, tried to be the boy he wanted… that’s how I learned to shoot, load, and clean guns. But I couldn’t please anyone. Couldn’t make them love me.”

“Didn’t need to worry about that though,” she says, repeating me almost word for word.

“Why is that?” I grin at her, wriggling my brows. I cannot wait to hear her answer. Surely, she showed them how wrong they were. Surely, she left town in a blaze of glory as she headed across the ocean and started a whole new life.

“Because I learned to be happy and love myself without them,” she says, momentarily stunning me with her confession.

You
make me happy. “We have a lot in common, you and I.”

She gives me a sad smile. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re just saying that because you want me to blog about your massive paycheck.”

“Shut up.” I take her hand in mine and kiss the knuckles, something I’ve been doing at least two or three times an hour.

As we get closer to the bank, I check the rearview mirror.

Dmitry pulls back, the distance between us growing. He takes the next left and that’s the signal for all’s clear.

“There it is,” Morgan all but squeals. “I’ve never been so happy to see a bloody cross in my life.”

“It’s not supposed to be bloody,” I point out.

“I know,” she says wryly. “I was attempting to be English.”

“Point made.”

As we inch closer, the feeling that this is a very bad idea grows in the pit of my stomach. While I don’t think we’re driving or walking into a trap, I can’t in good conscience had over something information worth killing over to the bad guys.

Even if I used to be considered one.

A parking spot opens up and I pull in, then just sit there, letting the sports car idle. Flexing my hands as I rest them against the wheel, I can do nothing else, but wait.

“Why aren’t we getting out?” Morgan asks, her voice thin. “The bank is right there, Ben. Right there.” She points at the Depository, as if that will help me move.

“I don’t know what’s on the drive.” Violet hasn’t responded to any of my emails and I’m worried. Either my messages were intercepted… or she’s been silenced.

Neither conclusion sets well with me.

She tugs on the door handle, but I’ve locked the car down. No one can get it or out. “Please, Ben, I just want this done and over. We’re so close.”

“I’m sorry, love, but I can’t.”

Her chin quivers with her effort not to cry. She wipes at her eyes, at the tears that want to fall because of me, and whispers brokenly, “I don’t want to die.”

Reaching over the console, I pull her to me as best I can, running my hands up and down her back. “I don’t want to die either, but this is too easy.”

“Who cares?” she says with a sniff. “Leave the stupid package and let’s go.”

“We don’t know what’s on it, and from what I have seen, it doesn’t look good. Why in the world would a criminal organization want a drive containing pictures of single cells?”

“They want to start a new dating website and need customers?”

I groan. “Morgan. Be serious. Bad guys want scientific information that they are willing to
kill
for. Think about it.”

“I don’t want to think about it. I like my version better.” She sniffs again. “Please, let’s just go inside and finish this. Afterward, we can go on with our lives and have lots of sex.”

“And then what? Watch our backs? Wait for the inevitable, ‘they know too much and need to be silenced’? That’s no way to live.”

“At least we’d be alive,” she counters, sitting up. “I can live with that.”

Straightening, I frame her tear-stained face in my hands. “No, you can’t. Trust me. I’ve lived that life, that constant looking-over-your-shoulder bullshit. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“You’re a hacker. Isn’t that part of your job description?”

“I
used
be apart of an organization far more dangerous than Wraith.”

She licks her lips. “What one is that?”

“The
Bratva
.”

“Who?” Her nose scrunches. She genuinely has no idea.

“Russian Mafia.”

“Oh.” Her lips turn down. “Did you have a choice?”

“Yes and no.”

“Did you enjoy killing people?”

“You don’t want to know the answer to that.” With a sigh, I let her go and put the car into drive.

“I don’t think you did,” she declares. “I think it tore you up inside because you’re a good man at heart. Good men don’t relish killing people, even the bad guys.”

She’s right. I never enjoyed killing, never relished seeing the light fade from another’s eyes as they drew their last breath. Later, I would always ask myself what would have happened if I had made a different choice. If I had decided to gas them instead of put a bullet in their head.

But I knew the answers.

Those men wouldn’t have stopped until I was dead. Or my brother. Or Everly. Or anyone else I ever cared about.

However, the fact remains that I enjoyed making my aunt and uncle pay for what they did to me as a child. And I sure as hell enjoyed killing the man that almost executed Morgan. While I can excuse one, I cannot excuse the other.

“Let’s get this sorted, yes?”

She nods.

“I killed my aunt and uncle, slowly, mind you, and I enjoyed every fucking second of it.”

Morgan shrinks away from me. “You—you did?”

“For nearly five years, they starved me, beat me, and… did things that no child should ever have to endure.” I stare off into the distance. Memories clawing at the box I’ve put them in, demanding to be let out. My chest grows tight. Panic sets in.

A child screams. Not a child. Me as a helpless toddler.

Morgan touches my face and it takes everything inside of me to not strike out at her. Instead, I slowly turn to face her again.

Her eyes flash with anger. “They got what they deserved.” She peers at me from beneath her brow, as if trying to convince me of her opinion. “Some people need killing, Ben. It’s not a popular thing to say, but evil exists in this world and good people have to take it out.”

“What happens when evil no longer exists? What will good people take out then?”

She gives me a sad smile. “Evil will always exist in a fallen world.”

I don’t want to debate religion or a fallen world with her, but I do know that her words have eased the tightness in my chest. While she can’t possibly give me absolution for my sins, she’s given me the second best thing.

Understanding.

There is no possible way I can allow her to continue on this journey with me. “We have to leave.”

“I understand.”

God love you for it.
“We’re to meet Dmitry. Like you, he won’t be happy, but he will go along with Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out,” I lie.

*

“I’m sending you
away.”

Hurt and betrayal flash in her eyes. “You want to get rid of me?”

I scrub my hand over my face. This is not how I imagined things would go with her. Thankfully, we’re sitting in the living room of one of my safe houses and not in a hotel. Dmitry sits in a nearby leather club chair, his casual pose of leaning forward with his elbows on his knees deceptive. His green and gold gaze misses nothing.

“No, I want you to be safe and I need to figure things out.”

“By leaving me with someone I don’t know?”

“I’m not leaving you,” I insist, when in fact I am. “I’m sending you to Grandfather. He will keep you safe. Arrangements have already been made.”

“Is this the Plan B you said you’d let me know as soon as you’d figured it out?”

“It’s sorted, which is why I’m telling you.”

“You’re lying to me.” She shakes her head, her blue eyes water, then fill with fire. “Why didn’t you just tell me when we were parked by the Depository?”

“Because I thought you would fight me on it. Perhaps make a scene.”

“I would have argued with you, but eventually, I would have understood.” She shakes her head. “We’re supposed to be a team, Ben. I’ve spent almost four days with you, running from and to bad guys. The very least you owe me is honesty and you promised not to keep me in the dark.”