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She finally meets my gaze, and there’s something almost defensive in her expression. “I’m not nervous. I’m bored.”
“Bored enough to keep checking your phone every thirty seconds?”
Vadim glances between us with amusement. “Irina doesn’t enjoy the waiting portions of our operations. She prefers more immediate gratification, and she won’t get paid for her part until I decide it’s over. Then we’ll settle on her perks and compensation.”
Irina looks unhappy, and I realize she’s probably not here on a strictly voluntary basis. Vadim might have recruited her to throw Nikandr off-balance, or maybe he has another purpose in mind for her, but she didn’t go to him. I’m convinced he’s been looking for her and just found her before Nikandr.
“Like watching people die?” I ask, trying to hide my thoughts. “She seems the type who likes that.”
Irina’s jaw tightens. “Like getting paid and moving on to the next job.”
“Is that what Yaraslov was to you? Just another job?”
“Don’t.” Her voice comes out sharper than she probably intended. “Don’t pretend you understand anything about what happened between us.”
Vadim holds up a hand to stop the conversation. “Ladies, as entertaining as this is, we have more pressing concerns.”
I lean forward slightly, so the gun isn’t digging so forcefully into my back. “So, what happens now? You kill me and hope that brings you peace?”
Vadim checks his watch with the air of someone managing a complex schedule. “Now we wait. Your boyfriend may be dead, but his organization isn’t, and they’ll want to recover your body for burial. When they come for you, we’ll be ready.”
The slip confirms what I already suspected, and I decide to push him further. “You’re lying about the explosion.”
“Am I?” He tilts his head with mock curiosity.
“If Nikandr were really dead, you’d be celebrating. You’d be making toasts and planning your next move, not standing over me in a more secure room.”
Irina shifts uncomfortably near the door, and his smile falters for just a moment before returning full force. “You’re very perceptive for someone in your position.”
“My position is temporary.”
“Your position,” he says, moving closer to my chair, “Is exactly where I want you. Pregnant, helpless, and completely dependent on a man who makes terrible decisions when his emotions are involved.”
I meet his gaze steadily. “You don’t know him as well as you think you do.”
“I know he’ll come for you. He’ll bring every available man and weapon because he can’t bear the thought of losing another person he loves. Desperation makes even the smartest men stupid.”
The way he says it makes my stomach clench because there’s truth in his assessment. Nikandr will come for me, and he’ll risk everything to get me back safely. That’s exactly what Vadim is counting on. His words reveal another truth too—Nikandr survived the blast.
This entire setup is designed to draw him into another trap, using me as the bait that will make him abandon caution and rush into danger, but this time, I won’t be a helpless victimwaiting to be rescued. This time, I’ll be ready to fight back when the moment comes.
The gun pressed against my back reminds me I have options beyond hoping for rescue. When the shooting starts, and Vadim’s attention is focused on the threat coming through the door, I’ll have a chance to even the odds.
I just have to stay alive long enough to take it.
31
Nikandr
The warehouse erupts into chaos the moment we breach the loading dock. Gunfire echoes off concrete walls as Vadim’s men resist our advance with the kind of desperation that comes from knowing there’s no escape. Muzzle flashes illuminate the industrial space in strobing bursts while my team spreads out to secure the perimeter and eliminate threats.
I press forward through the smoke and debris, my weapon raised as I bark orders into my comm. “Alpha team, secure the east wing. Beta team, take the stairwells. Watch for secondary positions.”
Maksim appears at my shoulder, weapon raised as he scans for targets. Blood streams from a cut above his left eyebrow, but his movements are steady and controlled. “Six hostiles down, but there’s got to be more. This place is too big for a skeleton crew.”
The sound of automatic weapons fire intensifies from somewhere above us, punctuated by shouts and the crashof overturned equipment. My men are meeting organized resistance, which means Vadim prepared for this assault in his “Plan B” in case the bomb didn’t take us out at the storage facility.
Dmitri’s voice crackles through the radio with barely controlled urgency. “There’s movement on the second floor with multiple shooters in defensive positions.”