Russian's Determined Love (Drobilka Family Series #3) (6 page)

Bethany nodded as she watched as the man she loved step onto the elevator and the doors closed. Unable to hold on any longer, she collapsed on the floor as loud sobs wracked her body.

As the doors closed, Vadim could hear her cry; he punched the wall in frustration, praying to whatever god might exist that he would return safely to her.

Chapter 10

Bethany drove into the Rubicon that evening awash with worry over Vadim. She didn’t dare bring a gun with her into the club, but did toss a folding knife into her backpack. When she walked inside, it appeared to be business as usual at the table, with the exception that Vadim wasn’t there.

When she walked past the men, Boris paused in his conversation to nod at her as she waved back.
So far, so good,
she thought. In the locker room, she put on her uniform and laced up her gladiator sandals. Looking at herself in the mirror, she grabbed the cover-up and dabbed on more around her eyes to hide the puffiness from crying.

She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, draped her hair down the side of her head, and gave herself one final look before walking out onto the floor. When she got to the bar, she grabbed her tablet and waved to Tiffany who was lounging behind the bar.

“Should be an easy night,” Tiffany called out as Bethany scrolled through any current orders.

“That would be great,” Bethany answered, “I’m exhausted.” She walked over to her station to introduce herself to the customers already seated there.

The evening was uneventful, for which Bethany was grateful, as she was not in the mood for groping or spilled drinks. As she stood in line to receive her night’s pay, she was surprised to see the security guard handing them out. Glad that it wasn’t Boris, she took her envelope and headed out to her car.

When she got home, her phone was beeping indicating that she had a text. Pulling it out, she retrieved her message. There was a photo attached of the New York City skyline with a glass of red wine in front of it. The message read,
Wish you were here with me.

Smiling, she texted him back.

Saturday was uneventful, as well, but Bethany was concerned that she hadn’t heard from Vadim since that morning. They had agreed that he would contact her every six hours and it had been ten since she last heard from him. Trying not to panic, she stood in line to receive her pay, annoyed to see that it was Boris handing them out. As she stepped up, he handed her an envelope.

“And how is Vadim?” he asked her.

Was that a smirk?
she thought. Pasting a smile on her face, she answered him, “He misses me.”

“Oh, so you’ve heard from him?”

“A few times, why? Hasn’t he contacted you?”
Two counts as a few times, right?

“Nyet,” he answered.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, well, if you want me to give him a message, just let me know,” she answered, smiling sweetly.

Before she could walk away, he grabbed her arm. She stared down at his hand, and then looked up at him. “Yes?”

Staring at her, he shook his head and dropped his hand. “Never mind.”

She rubbed her arm as she walked out to her car.
I wonder what the hell that was about.

By Sunday, Bethany was in a panic. She hadn’t heard from Vadim in close to forty-eight hours and while his phone was not turned off, he wasn’t picking up when she called. She paced the apartment in agitation. Deciding to break protocol, she placed a call to her handler, but it went straight to voicemail. She tossed her phone on the couch with a sigh and resumed pacing.

Monday morning, she reported to the FBI offices first thing. She was waiting outside Turner’s door when he arrived. Looking at her in surprise, he opened the door and ushered her in.

“Sit down,” he invited as he went to grab coffee. Setting her bag down, she was pacing the office when he walked back in. He handed her a cup, sat down at his desk, and waited for her to speak.

Bethany set the cup down. “I haven’t heard from Vadim in more than forty-eight hours, and I can’t reach Marci.”

Reaching for the phone, Turner made a call, but hung up after a few seconds. “I got her voicemail.”

“It was the same for me. I’m worried, Sir. Vadim said that he would stay in contact while he’s in New York and I haven’t heard from him. When I tried to reach Marci, her phone was off. Are they related?”

“I’ve no idea. Let me see what I can find out, and I’ll contact you.”

Before Bethany could respond, her phone beeped. Hoping that it was Vadim, she checked her message, frowning when she saw whom it was from. “Boris wants me to come to the club to translate something,” she told him.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Turner questioned. “You won’t have the benefit of a full house.”

Nodding her head, she texted him back that she would be there in an hour. “Before I go, do you have anything I can bring him? We need to play this out. I’ll be careful.”

He extracted another manifest from one of the Chinese freights from a file on his desk and handed it to her to snap pictures. “See that you do,” he told her as she hurried out.

Stopping at a drug store on her way to the club, she printed out the photos. When she drove into the parking lot at the Rubicon, she saw two cars – one belonged to Boris and she didn’t recognize the other. Before she got out of the car, she pulled the knife out of her backpack and slipped it into her pocket. Pausing, she fished around for the audio recorder and turned it on before clipping it to the inside of her shirt.

Inside, she found Boris calmly drinking tea at his normal table. Faltering in her step, she took a deep breath and walked up to him.

“Dobroye utro, Boris.”

“Good morning, Bethany.”

She gave him an odd look. “You said that you had something for me to translate?”

Pointing to the chair across from him, he indicated she should sit. “There’s plenty of time for that. Tell me, how is Vadim?”

Not bothering to sit down, she smiled thinly.
Here it comes,
she thought. “He’s fine,” she answered cheerfully. “I got a text from him that included a picture of the New York City skyline. Made me wish I was back at Barnard.”

“Well that is at least one truthful thing you’ve said.”

“Excuse me?”

“I happen to know that the last time you heard from him was early Saturday morning.”

She looked at him. “You are mistaken.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps I am.” Rising, he walked toward the office. “Come, I will show you the piece I want you to translate. It is in
my
office.”

As she followed him, Bethany checked her pocket to make sure her knife was readily available as she walked into the office. She stopped short when she saw that they weren’t alone. Rushing forward, she bent down.
Marci! Oh, fuck.
She could see that she was still alive, but barely. Her breathing was labored, and she had been beaten bloody.

“What’s going on, Boris? Why do you have my graduate supervisor?”

“Is that what they call it now? I thought that she was your handler.”

“My what? What are you talking about? She’s my graduate school advisor at UT. And she needs to go to the hospital.”

“She will do nothing of the sort!” he shouted. Bethany looked at him in surprise. “Tell me something, Miss Michaels, was Vadim always working for you or did that only happen after you started fucking?”

“What? Boris, what are you talking about?”

Ignoring her questions, he continued, “Is that how you did it? You tempted our white fox with your charms so that he would betray his people?”

Bethany stood up as she watched Boris warily, but he had yet to move out of his chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Vadim has always been loyal to his people.” Marci moaned as Bethany turned to look at her. “She needs to go to the hospital,” she repeated. He laughed.

“Your handler has been very busy,” he told her, ignoring her comment. “And she has cost me much over the years. What? You haven’t figured it out by now, Malyutka?” he asked derisively at Bethany’s surprised look.

“While you were busy trying to figure out who your mole was, she was busy feeding me information, for a price. One that I got tired of paying once her usefulness came to an end.” As understanding dawned on Bethany’s face, Boris began to laugh. “I see that you get it now.”

Keep him talking, Bethany,
she told herself.

“So, let me get this straight,” Bethany said slowly. “Marci has been giving you information?” At his brief nod, she asked “For how long?”

“Since she was in New York. Did you think that her coming to Dallas was by choice? She hates it as much as you do. We wanted her here before we became active. It was she who clued me in to Sasha.”

“But how?”

“She did it to protect you,” Boris answered. “How she found out, I don’t know.”

“Sasha worked for ICE; that has nothing to do with me.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “One government agency is the same as another. It makes no difference to me.”

“And Vadim? What happened to him?” Bethany asked.

“Oh, do not worry, he is still alive. He has been placed in the capable hands of New York’s finest. He was arrested for the murder of two union workers at the Port Authority. While I had long suspected that our belaya lisitsa was growing tired of the role he was playing in our enterprise, I have to admit that I did not suspect he would change sides. You must be a great fuck. How about you give me a taste before I slit your throat?”

As Boris talked, Bethany cautiously maneuvered toward the door. When he realized she had moved, he leveled a gun at her. “Move again and I will shoot you.”

“What? And miss out on possibly the best fuck of your life? Not that I would ever want to fuck you, Boris. While you may think that being called Myasnik is the worst thing anyone ever said about you, you and I know that you are nothing more than a Nekulturny!”

Boris leaped up, but Bethany was already out of the office and running for the exit. As he came around the desk, he tripped over Marci’s legs that Bethany had positioned straight out. With a roar, he pulled the trigger on the gun, firing off shots, as she reached the exit. Not looking back, she ran for her car, jumped in, and sped out of the parking lot. Looking in her rearview mirror as she drove away, she didn’t see him come out of the building.

She grabbed her phone and called Director Turner’s office.

“Sir, it’s Michaels. Vadim was picked up on murder charges. He didn’t do it. Can we get him out?”

“I received the same information and the answer is no.”

“What do you mean? He’s an asset. We can’t leave him there.”

“He isn’t one anymore.”

“What do you mean? I was there when he was given a guarantee.”

“That all changed. The US Attorney General got involved and determined that he was too big to be given amnesty.”

“How, how did that happen?”

“I don’t know, but I suspect that Sanderson had something to do with it. They went to college together and he was angry about the demotion and transfer. I still haven’t been able to reach Marci. Have you been by her office?”

As Bethany drove around, unsure what to do next, she filled him in on what she found out at the club and that she suspected that Marci was now dead. As she talked, she could hear a flutter of activity over the phone.

“I need you to come in. Now.”

Realizing what she needed to do, Bethany headed to her old apartment building. She told Turner she would be there as soon as she could, got off the phone, and drove around the neighborhood to make sure she wasn’t followed. After parking around back, she slipped inside and went up to her safe house. She locked the door behind her and checked to make sure nothing had been disturbed.

Rushing to the closet, she pulled out two bags containing clothes for her and Vadim. In out into the living room, she pulled the TV stand away from the wall and opened a panel they had cut into the drywall. From inside she pulled out a ziplock bag containing passports and cash. Throwing it in one of the bags, she grabbed a set of car keys lying by the door and tossed her old cell phone into it. She shouldered both bags and took the stairs back down. Walking out the exit near the laundry room, she got into a different vehicle and drove off. She had a 1,500-mile drive ahead of her.

Chapter 11

When she arrived in New York City late Tuesday night, Bethany parked her car and looked around. The streets were deserted and she knew that she hadn’t been followed, but she figured that someone would figure out where she was headed. A young couple was walking into an apartment building and she sped up to catch the door as they walked inside. Turning around in surprise, they were about to speak when she smiled brightly at them.

“Thanks, these bags are killing me and I didn’t think I could find my keys.”

Not waiting around for an answer, she took the stairs to the fourth floor. Walking down the hall, she stopped in front of a door and knocked loudly, cringing as the sound echoed down the hall. She waited for a count of five, and then knocked again. As she was getting ready to knock for a third time, she heard noises from inside the apartment. The door slowly opened as she looked at the surprised and very sleepy face of her old roommate.

“Elise. I need your help.”

Opening the door wide, Elise let her in before shutting and locking the door behind her.

Bethany dropped the bags by the door and sagged onto the nearest chair as the weight of what she was about to do hit her.

“What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in almost a year, no one will tell me anything, and now you just, show up?”

Realizing that she wasn’t going to be able to evade any of her questions, Bethany started talking and then couldn’t stop. She told Elise how she had been selected to go undercover in Dallas. About the Drobilka cartel. Falling in love with Vadim. Turning him. Her stepfather being released and his brain tumor. As she talked, a plan slowly formulated in her head, but she knew that she would never be able to pull it off without her friend’s help.