The Spy With the Silver Lining (15 page)

His grin widened. “You should be. When I left, Yurii was in the middle of arranging an interesting homecoming party for you.”

“And will you be at the party?”

“No. It will be a private party for two. But the stone walls at Nescosto echo nicely. I will be able to hear you scream.”

P
ierce called Merrick and got him out of bed. He was on his way to the airport in New Orleans, about to board a private plane waiting for him on the runway.

“Petrov bit,” he said. “Call Polax and tell him the final phase of the mission starts now. Who’s my contact? When and where?”

“Ash Kelly.”

“Ash?”

“I’ve decided to let him in on this. He’s eager to get back, and I thought working with one of his old teammates would be a good idea.”

“He’s been out a year. This is no time for a trial run. We’ve just sent a woman into hell and promised her she’ll survive.”

“I thought you’d welcome Ash back. You were the one who suggested he take the job in the beginning.”

That was before, Pierce thought. Before things had changed. A lot of things.

“Are you refusing him? If you are, it’s going to complicate matters. He’s already in place waiting for you.”

There was a moment of dead air.

“You better be right about him.”

“Yes or no, Pierce?”

Normally Merrick didn’t give his agents a choice. That put Pierce on edge. Merrick wasn’t sure Ash was back a hundred percent. He wanted him to make the call.

“If I don’t like what I see, I’m going to kick his ass off the mission, and go solo.”

“You’re running the show.”

That was another strange comment Pierce didn’t like. Merrick never gave up his authority. He swore. “He better be fuckin’ ready to go when I see him. If his brains are scrambled in the bottom of a bottle, I’ll kill him.”

There was more silence.

“Is everything all right on your end? You seem agitated. That’s not like you.”

“You owe me a house. Mine was burned to the ground an hour ago. And there’s a problem Polax is going to need to deal with.”

“A problem?”

“Ruza Balasi isn’t happy with the situation. She knows Polax played her. She’s not the kind of woman who is going to sit by the phone to hear if her daughter is dead or alive.”

“I thought Saber Lazie was handling her.”

“Outside of tying her to the bed that’s not going to happen.”

“So tie her to the bed.”

“I’ll give him the message. Where is Ash?”

“He’s in Barcelona ready to sail the moment you arrive. Pier Six.”

As soon as the line went dead, Merrick contacted Polax. He gave him the good news—Petrov had taken the bait. Then he verified that Polax’s mole was still in the game. That confirmed, he hit Lev with the bad news—Ruza was on to him.

“Dammit, if Ruza goes to IsaDora, we’re both fucked. Quest’s future is riding on this mission, but my sister and mother won’t see it that way. They think alike when it comes to Casmir. Shit!”

“Maybe we should have gone to IsaDora with this plan in the beginning.”

“If I believed she would have backed us, I would have.”

“You’re sure she wouldn’t have?”

“She took Ruza’s side when I recruited Casmir five years ago. Neither one agreed with it. It wasn’t until after Casmir came back from a number of successful missions that they began to be less vocal.”

“In this business, risk is part of the game.”

“I hate that word. Especially when it involves someone I love. Contrary to what my sister thinks, I love my niece.”

“You’ve told me over and over again that she’s good enough to pull this off.”

“She’s one of the best in the business. She’s got Ruza’s and Jacko Ludomir’s blood running through her veins. I’m proud to be her uncle, and even prouder to be her commander.”

“Then trust your instincts.”

“I do, and I trust Casmir. But IsaDora and Ruza are another matter.”

“The bottom line is there’s no turning back now, Lev. So what do you intend to do?”

“Avoid any incoming calls from Ruza, stay out of IsaDora’s office and buy a brass-plated cup for my balls.”

Pierce flew through the night and reached Barcelona before dawn. He located Pier Six and found Ashland Kelly sitting in the sun on a motor yacht, waiting for him.

After the Greece mission to uncover one of the Chameleon’s hideouts—a mission that had ended in disaster—Ash had walked away from Onyxx, while Pierce had stayed.

They had lost one of their teammates during the mission and Ash had blamed himself for Sully Paxton’s death. For a year he’d allowed that guilt to eat him alive.

Pierce studied his comrade. Ash’s blond hair was past his shoulders and he’d grown a beard and moustache. He’d lost weight, and his skin was sunbaked. He looked as if he’d been living in the desert, dining on cactus juice and sand.

“It’s been a while,
mon ami.
”

Ash nodded. “It’s good to be back.”

“Are you back?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“You better be. This isn’t going to be a picnic in the sun.”

“You don’t want me here.”

“I want the man I used to work with and trust. If he’s here, then I’m happy. If he’s not, then I want you gone.”

“He’s here, and I’ll prove it if you give me a chance.”

Pierce nodded. “All right. Have you been briefed?”

“I read the file on Petrov, and Merrick filled me in on the mission.”

“Good.”

“What will he do to her?”

The question caught Pierce off guard. He hesitated, not wanting to think about Cass back under Yurii Petrov’s roof.

“That bad, ah?”

“What’s the worst thing you can imagine?”

“I’ve got a good imagination, if you remember.”

“Multiply it by ten.”

Pierce felt Ash’s pale-blue eyes studying him. He wasn’t going to say more. He didn’t trust himself, or his voice at the moment. He wanted to rewind the mission. He wanted to start over and come up with another way to breach Petrov’s command center and secure the data. But it was too late for that now.

“Let’s move out.”

Ash nodded, then went inside the wheelhouse of the yacht. Within minutes they were moving out to sea. Pierce checked the tracking device. It was signaling strong, and he discussed the coordinates with Ash. His teammate’s specialty was explosives. It was said that Ashland Kelly could detonate a charge in the dark with his hands tied behind his back.

That should give him some peace of mind, but since Cass had been captured he’d been thinking about all the things that could go wrong. That usually wasn’t his style. He never borrowed trouble. At least he never used to.

To say Cass had simply gotten under his skin was selling her short. He hadn’t slept with the actress; he’d slept with the woman who, for five years, had walked in the actress’s shadow. He respected the actress; he felt honored to know the woman underneath….

It was the first time he’d let his emotions into a mission. The first time he felt as if he could lose something far more precious to him than his own life.

It was now the beginning of day two. He hadn’t slept but a few hours on the plane. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Cass touching him—touching him like she was touching a man for the first time. And when he’d touched her… He’d never forget the look on her face. Never forget her virgin eyes. They had revealed more than words could ever say.

He understood now what empowered a man to fall in love.
Oui,
he was in love with her. Cass had the power to change a man. The power to make him a better man. That was why Yurii Petrov couldn’t let her go. He knew her value.

The forecast predicted clear sailing, and the seas held calm throughout the night. They would be able to make good time if the weather held.

Two hours later the weather was still holding, and the sun was on the horizon when disaster struck. The tracking device suddenly went dead.

Casmir woke up groggy, with a stiff neck. She didn’t realize what that meant until she rose from the bed and entered the bathroom. Staring in the mirror, she saw that the bandage on her neck had been changed, and that was when she knew she’d been drugged the night before.

Whether it had been the food or the drink didn’t matter. The end result was the same—Filip had found the tracker and removed it from her neck.

She showered and dressed in her same clothes. Slipped on her shoes. Although she looked a bit wilted, she was glad she had something to wear other than the sheet.

Filip came for her an hour later and escorted her on deck. The sun was bright, the ocean air warm. She glanced around and recognized the Amalfi Coast. She had sailed the Mediterranean with Yurii for a long month on the
Bella Vella.
They had leapfrogged from coast to coast, dividing their time between Spain, France and Italy.

She studied the coast, recalled the day Yurii had pointed out a beautiful villa set into the side of a mountain—the villa that was now looming in the distance.

That day he had ordered his captain to enter the bay where a fleet of boats rested in an azure lagoon. He had told her the man who owned the villa was once a sad, misguided soul, but that after he’d found love his entire world had changed. He’d said that the man now lived in a dreamland with his princess.

The memory sent a chill up Casmir’s spine. Yurii had been talking about himself. This was it—the isolated villa built of stone tucked into the mountain like a bird in a nest was Nescosto Priyatna.

The yacht’s engines shut down, and that was when she knew she had guessed right—Yurii’s headquarters were on the coast of Italy.

“It is beautiful, no,
signorina?
”

She glanced at Filip. He was grinning. She smiled back, unwilling to surrender to any emotion or fear. “Very beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it. It would be a sad thing to hate your prison.”

“A prisoner of beauty. An interesting concept.”

He frowned. “I admit you are an unusual woman.”

“Why? Because I’m not in tears and begging for my freedom?”

“It would be natural. And I would not think less of you.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

His frown turned into a grin. “Either way, this is your home now. You will die here. Perhaps an old woman, or perhaps Yurii will tire of you when your beauty begins to fade and the fire in your eyes is swallowed up like a ghost’s whisper on the wind.”

Casmir raised her chin. “You should try your hand at poetry, Filip. Your prose is eloquent, but your prediction is a bit premature. I’ve learned never to calculate the certainty of the future through someone else’s eyes.”

“I am very certain of your future, Signorina Balasi.”

She looked away from Filip, fixed her eyes on Yurii’s secret sanctuary. Nothing would alarm a passerby to the fact that this place housed a mastermind criminal.

The yacht began to move again, the engine this time humming softly as it slipped into the lagoon and dropped anchor in the crystal blue water.

Casmir stood at the railing unflinching as Filip pulled his phone from his pocket and relayed instructions to someone inside the villa. When he pocketed his phone, he reached out and clamped his hand around her arm and led her to a telescope that was mounted several feet away from where she stood.

He sighted something in the telescope, then nodded for her to take a look. She stepped forward, put her eye next to the powerful lens, and there, above the high walls, on a grand balcony that jutted out from the rocks over the lagoon, stood Yurii, eating an apricot.

Casmir took a deep breath, pushed back the uncertainty that was creeping up her spine. The air filling her lungs held the tangy taste of salt. She felt a sudden chill in the air. It came out of nowhere—the tropical air was as warm as the baked sand that skirted the coast.

“By the way, my captain is also a surgeon. He assures me that you will have no more than a small scar on your neck. He was very careful. Although I do not expect Yurii will be too pleased.”

Pierce went crazy for a moment, then called Merrick.

“The tracker stopped sending. We’re in the middle of the goddamn Mediterranean and we’re fucked.”

“She was probably stripped and issued new clothes. Petrov is no fool.”

Merrick sounded too calm.

“She’s not wearing the tracker on her.”

“No?”

“I put it under her skin.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“I don’t have time to go into it. Now what?”

“Now I call Polax, and tell him that they took the second bait.”

“You expected them to find it.”

“We’re not dealing with amateurs. Of course we expected it. Sit tight. I’ll be in touch.”

Pierce hung up, swearing. He didn’t like being handed the plan in bits and pieces. Had he known that they wanted the tracker found, hell, he would’ve pinned it on her chest.

He sent his hand over his jaw in frustration. What else could go wrong? he thought. What the hell else?

He had his answer a second later when he turned to see Ash sneaking a nip off a whiskey flask he had tucked inside his pant pocket.

Casmir was ushered off the
Stella di Mare
and led past the stone steps cut into the rocks that separated the azure lagoon from the four-story rock villa.

A narrow footpath curled into the rocks, and she found herself nudged toward a small dock where a small boat lapped the calm water.

The boat was piloted by a tall man dressed in a gray uniform. It didn’t fit him very well. The pants were too short, as if they weren’t his. She should mention it. Let him know that the last man who wore that uniform was probably dead. Yurii was a hard man to please, and he went through men like she went through shampoo.

Filip helped her into the boat, then sat across from her as the man took up his pole and sent them on their way into the dimly lit caverna.

The waterway was well hidden from the coast, invisible to the naked eye. It appeared as nothing more than a crack in the jagged rocks, but the narrow secret passage had a purpose.

Everything in Yurii’s life had a purpose.

They traveled the windy cool cave for several minutes. Casmir tried to calculate the distance, but the twists and turns were deceiving, and she soon realized that there were numerous offshoots—grottos leading to other passages. Perhaps one of them led to Yurii’s data center.

Suddenly the boat headed toward a rocky shore. Filip jumped out and then held his hand out to her. She took it and allowed him to lead her down a narrow path lit by gas torches. They flicked around her, and this she made note of, too. The passageway was fed by fresh air. That meant there was an exit that led back to the coast.