Page 121 of Denied Access

The breeze felt like freedom.

“Do you need assistance, Miss Henrik?”

She probably could use some assistance getting out of the low-slung sedan, but she wouldn’t accept it. Kris would fall flat on her face before she allowed another Russian brute to touch her. Instead of answering, she ignored the Russian’s outstretched hand in favor of grabbing the seat in front of her. Then she pulled herself from the vehicle.

“This will be over in just a moment, Miss Henrik. Then—”

Kris stepped past the Russian attempting to talk to her and started walking toward the plane. She knew she was supposed to wait for some kind of ceremonial exchange, but she didn’t care. Kris was done listening to Russians. The business jet with its extended stairway was just twenty yards away.

She was getting on it.

A pair of men in suits flanked the bottom of the airstairs. She assumed they were State Department Diplomatic Security Service agents. One of them appeared familiar. She thought his name was Frank. Or maybe Fred?

The second man looked… different.

“Miss Henrik—you will stay with us until told otherwise.”

A meaty hand grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around. Tears filled her eyes again, but for a different reason.

They weren’t going to let her go.

“Take your hands off her. Now.”

Kris shivered, and this time not from the cold. The command had been given in a calm, even tone, but it somehow dripped dangerousintent. Turning, she saw that one of the DSS agents had somehow covered the sixty feet that had been separating them and now stood at her shoulder.

ThedifferentDSS agent.

“This is Moscow,” the Russian said. “You are not in a position to—”

The agent’s hand blurred. The motion had been too fast for her eyes to follow. All she knew was that one moment the Russian had been gripping her shoulder with thick fingers, and the next he was cradling his hand with a look that promised murder.

“You don’t want this. Believe me.”

Again, the DSS agent spoke almost deadpan. Again, the frigid air seemed laced with menace. The American couldn’t have been much older than she was. Mid- to late twenties. Certainly not yet thirty. In contrast, the Russian who’d grabbed her shoulder was at least ten years more senior and fifteen pounds heavier. He should have laughed off the DSS agent’s threat.

He didn’t.

Up close, Kris could see what was different about the American. His thick, uncombed head of black hair and beard were at odds with the buttoned-down image DSS agents typically conveyed, as was his deeply tanned, olive skin. His face looked a bit swollen, almost as if he’d been in a fight, but his penetrating eyes were what had drawn her attention.

Eyes so dark as to be black.

The Russian half-heartedly edged forward, but halted when his companion commanded him to stand down. The FSK officer looked almost relieved to be put in check.

“Come on, Miss Henrik,” her DSS savior said. “It’s time to go home.”

Resting his arm gently on her shoulder, he shepherded her to the staircase.

This time, no one tried to stop her.

CHAPTER 72

WASHINGTON, DC

ZEKEWilliams pulled into the side street leading to his favorite pub at a crawl.

This was his second time frequenting the establishment in the same week. If this pace continued, he might have to ask the owner about getting his own parking spot. As things stood, he’d already done four loops around the block while waiting for something to open. Normally, the wasted time would have sent his blood pressure spiking.

Not today.