Smoke and Shadows (8 page)

“I have to return a call. I’ll be back.”

Viktor’s nape prickled, but he shrugged it off. He was being paranoid because he’d just gotten Marissa back.

“Anyone want coffee when I return?”

Maia and Jack shook their heads.

“I’ll take one, Iz,” Viktor said.
 

She smiled at him. “Black, right?”

He nodded, his breath hitching as he stared into her sparkling green eyes.

He was in trouble.

*****

Marissa shivered as she stepped out of the sliding doors into a frigid evening punctuated with below zero wind chills. Winter was making a last stand, and after the warming trend over the past few days, the polar vortex returned with a vengeance.
 

The VIP wing was adjacent to the medical offices, and today being a Saturday and 10:00 p.m., there was virtually no activity outside this side of the hospital. Street lamps cast a sinister glow over the parking lot. A slither of unease crept up Marissa’s spine.

She warily assessed her surroundings. There were too many dark corners. Not the kind of environment a spook wanted to find herself in if she wasn’t the one in the shadows.

Allison better have a good reason for calling her
. She pressed “Call Back” on her phone.

“Marissa?” Allison’s voice sounded surprised and Marissa’s gut was immediately gripped with a sense of foreboding. “Why are you calling?”

Footsteps rushed up from behind her.
 

Without thinking twice, Marissa spun around in time to ram her elbow into an assailant’s masked face. The man cursed violently and staggered back. Another came at her with a stun gun. Marissa bounced on the balls of her feet, arms cocked in front of her at the ready. Gauging the distance between them, she spun a roundhouse kick to knock the stun gun away.

But she realized there was one assailant too many as bulky arms grabbed her from behind. She stamped on her attacker’s instep, but the man must have been wearing boots of steel because he barely grunted.

She bent forward to crack her head against the guy’s face when he suddenly let her go, shoving her away from him.
 

Stumbling forward, she was gripped by the excruciating pain of her muscles spasming. Dark spots danced in front of her just as her knees buckled and then there was nothing.

*****

Marissa had been barely gone five minutes before Viktor decided to go after her. The sensation that something wasn’t right wouldn’t go away. Years on the job had honed that instinct into a sharp edge and he wasn’t ignoring it, especially when his woman was involved.

What he successfully ignored though, was the smirk on Jack’s face when he informed them that he needed to step out and check on something. McCord knew he was going after Marissa.
 

He tried to calm his racing pulse as he reached the ground floor and turned toward the exit. And that’s when he saw it. The scene of Marissa fighting off three masked men and finally falling down in a heap, sent a blast of rage coursing through his veins.
Son of a bitch, did that bastard stab her?
 

Bursting through the sliding doors, gun at the ready, he fired two shots at the startled assailant, hitting him right between the eyes. Viktor never missed. Seeing their comrade’s head blown off, the remaining hostiles beat back a hasty retreat.

Viktor didn’t bother chasing after them as he dropped to his knees beside Marissa, who was slowly coming around.
 

The sound of gunfire had drawn a circle of people around them. The sight of a body, sprawled on the ground with a dark pool forming from the head, elicited more than a few gasps and shrieks. But Viktor focused on Marissa.

“Iz? Can you hear me?”
 

One hand checked her body methodically for any signs of blood and injuries while the other whipped out his phone to warn Jack and Maia.

“Jack, Marissa’s been attacked,” Viktor said.
 

“Is she all right?” Jack exclaimed.

Not answering his question, because he didn’t know himself, Viktor said, “You and Taylor keep an eye out. I’ve got a dead body to process.”
 

He called Lance Henderson next, all the while keeping a wary eye on the crowd of onlookers.
 

“Are you at New Park Medical?” Viktor asked abruptly.

“Yes. What’s up?”

“Good, I want you to process a dead body for me . . . West entrance.”

His gaze returned to Marissa when a low moan escaped her lips.

“You can stop feeling me up,” Marissa said as he ended the call. “They stun gunned me. No biggie.”

He helped her sit up. She winced when she saw the expression on his face. “Seriously, Viktor, I’m fine.”

“It was stupid to leave the hospital,” he snapped. “You were a target, damn it. If I hadn’t come after you—”

“But you did,” Marissa reached out and touched his face. “I’m still here, Viktor.”

He shut his mouth, but he had an overwhelming desire to throttle her. He was starting to unravel and he didn’t like it one bit. He rose wordlessly and helped her to her feet.
 

Dr. Henderson showed up with two orderlies who were cleared to work with AGS.
 

“You got this, Henderson?”

The doctor nodded.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to wait for the cops?” A hospital staffer pushed through the gathering crowd.

Viktor cursed and stalked over to the man who had the gall to interfere.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Viktor snarled at the staffer who cowered back when he came at him.

“Viktor!”

His gaze shifted back to Marissa.

“You fine?” he asked coldly.

Marissa nodded, frowning.
 

“Good.”
 

He left her standing where she was and walked back to the hospital.

“Asshole,” Marissa muttered behind him.

Viktor stopped, stared at his feet, and exhaled deeply.
Shit. What am I doing?

He waited for Marissa to catch up to him, put an arm around her, and kissed the top of her head.

*****

“I’ll try better, Iz,” Viktor murmured into her hair, his arm tightening around her. Marissa was annoyed when Viktor just turned around and left her, not knowing what ticked him off.
 

“So what set you off, big guy?” Marissa asked. “It couldn’t be me yelling at you to stop intimidating the hospital staff. You’d hate to be banned from the premises, wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t handle seeing you hurt very well,” Viktor admitted.

“And your answer is to up and abandon me?” Marissa asked incredulously.

“I did not abandon you.” His voice was tight. “You were right behind me.”

Marissa nodded, deciding not to back him into a corner. Yet. She knew he was struggling to make it work between them. Whatever the “it” was. He seemed content to go with the flow. Unfortunately, the flow got interrupted unexpectedly and put him in an unfamiliar situation. She saw a mixture of fear and worry in his eyes, and knowing Viktor, he hated feeling vulnerable.
 

Did he feel
…?

She shook those thoughts from her head. Keeping her hopes up that Viktor might actually fall in love was like waiting for China to embrace democracy.

His arm slid from her shoulder, his hand rubbing her back lingeringly before finding its way to link his fingers again with hers.
 

“What’s with the hand holding?” Marissa teased.

Viktor glanced at her playfully. Her breath caught. He looked boyish, and boyish was not a word used to describe him. Ever.

He raised their linked hands as they entered the elevator.
 

“I’m trying it on for size,” Viktor answered her. “I’m finding I like it.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Viktor?”
 

He did his version of an eye-roll, which was a subtle movement of his eyes.

“Shut up, Marissa.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Rafiq Shadid watched the gyrations of the stripper before him. He hated to keep up the pretense of a perverted young sheik. Women were the last thing on his mind. He wanted revenge for his family. Every last one of them must die or suffer. He flicked his wrist and checked his watch impatiently. His men should have returned by now. They finally had a fix on their other target, who he now knew as CIA operative Marissa Cole. He thought she was his friend, and she had betrayed him. But she wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger that murdered his mother. Viktor Baran had received the very first taste of his revenge—the killing of Maia Pierce by an associate in Paris.
 

There was a knock on the private room’s door.
 

“Enter,” Rafiq said, and ordered the stripper to leave. His men walked in—one of them was missing.
 

“The man Viktor Baran was at the woman’s place,” his man answered nervously. “We followed them to a hospital.”

“A hospital?”

“Yes,” his man said. “We did as you told us, used the phone provided by Matthews to call her. She came outside, but immediately grew suspicious.” They related the rest of what happened.

“You. Ran,” Rafiq said slowly. He probably shouldn’t have told his men tales about Baran’s ruthlessness. “You men are imbeciles. Find Ali. I’m not paying him to have sex with women.”

He should have taken care of Cole himself, but he wanted to test the mettle of his new recruits. But more importantly: who were Baran and Cole visiting in the hospital?

McCord? The man should have recovered by now. They couldn’t break him. For three weeks, Rafiq had held him, and he couldn’t get the codes he needed. They hadn’t wanted to damage him too much because he was too valuable as leverage. Rafiq was bothered by how AGS was able to locate Jack McCord.

“You wanted me, boss?” Ali entered the room.

“We’re a man down.”

“Yes, your men told me.”

“I’m turning over the information Matthews gave me to you,” Rafiq said. “I want you to start eliminating every person on that list. The CIA and AGS probably know we’re behind their deaths, but it’s time to step out from the shadows. I want you to send them a strong message.”

Ali gave him an evil smile. “With pleasure. Do you still want me to pursue our other plan?”

“Of course,” Rafiq replied. “I want to destroy everything Viktor Baran has worked for. My uncle wishes this as well. Besides, it’ll be easier for our end game. Our couriers are coming in on separate flights tomorrow with the final draft of our plan. I will handle that personally.”

“As you wish.” Ali bowed out of the room.

*****

Viktor drove his Charger into the massive garage of a three-story concrete building. Marissa had never been on this particular property. From what she remembered, he’d been contemplating buying this place right before they broke up. It was an old structure built in the 1950’s. Its nondescript walls bore faded paint and its long rectangular windows were built with practicality in mind. They also appeared to be outfitted with blackout shades. Viktor was a very private person and in his line of work, one couldn’t be too careful. The gate of the garage trundled down on its tracks and shut decisively with a resounding clang.

He parked behind a black Ford Explorer—a standard AGS-issued vehicle. There was also a Lamborghini Countach—a classic from the 1970s, and she was pretty sure, not a standard-issue. And then further off to a corner sat an expensive custom-built Ducati. The garage was as spartan looking as the building, with unpainted shelving and pegboards lining the walls.
 

They exited the vehicle, Marissa hesitating by her door, as she regarded Viktor who was walking around to the trunk to pick up her bags. He strode to the entrance of the house/building, paused and looked at her with a raised brow. “You coming?”

 
She closed the car door with a heavy sigh. She wasn’t sure she’d survive staying in such a sterile environment because she was already missing her Victorian row house on Dupont Circle.

The door opened to a long hallway with a flight of stairs right beside it.
 

“I live on the top floor,” Viktor told her. “There’s an elevator, but I think we’ve seen enough of those today.” He led the way up the stairs, Marissa trudging slowly up behind him.
 

“What do you have on the other floors?” she asked.

“Stuff and shit. I can give you a tour tomorrow if you want.”

“Don’t we have an early briefing at AGS?” Marissa reminded him. “You think Tim will have a hit on the guy we have?”

“I’m sure he will.”
 

The top of the stairs revealed an open-space floor plan. The industrial-looking interior fit right in with Viktor’s personality—efficient, no-fuss. A king-sized bed was set against a wall. The bed-frame looked custom made with a steel-slatted headboard; its purpose not lost on Marissa, and sent a wave of heat to her face.

There was a wall-to-ceiling mirror between a set of windows that reflected the expanse of the loft. Black leather on metal-framed sofas and chairs were arranged around a glass coffee table to form a living area. A multi-level entertainment center had a flat screen TV and several consoles that Marissa suspected were not meant for entertainment.

Stainless steel countertops and appliances decked the kitchen and reminded her of restaurant kitchens she had seen in the course of her undercover work.

“Welcome to my lair,” Viktor announced as he plopped her bags on a long bench in front of the bed. “Wide-open floor plan, except the bathroom, which is through here.” He pointed to the lone enclosed room on the top level.

Thank God, Marissa thought. She did not fancy carrying out bodily functions with no walls between her and the outside world.

“No guest rooms?”

“Second floor. I like my privacy.” He frowned. “You’re sleeping with me.”

“Don’t you think we’re moving a bit too fast, Viktor?” Marissa said, ignoring the darkening scowl on his face.
 

“Wasted eight years, Marissa, not wasting another second,” Viktor said. “Get settled. I need to make a call.”