Bounty Hunter Honor Page 15

  Vlad. Confirmation of what Rex and the other bounty hunters had already figured out—Peter’s cigar-smoking gun-club friend was very much involved in this.

  Peter and Denise were stupid to talk so freely in front of her, even if they did think she was unconscious. Stupid—or they didn’t expect her to live to tell anyone anything.

  Though Nadia had trouble judging the time—every minute stretched out to excruciating proportions when one was tied up in a car trunk—it seemed to be about twenty minutes later that the Lincoln reentered city traffic. She could see the lights of other cars flashing through cracks, and the car stopped at several intersections and made a few turns. Eventually it pulled to a stop. Again she was hauled out of the trunk. Peter threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She was able to see the house—a cheap, tract ranch house on a street of identical houses.

  If she were able to get hold of a phone and call for help, she would not be able to identify where she was. But the chances of that were slim anyway. She’d left her cell phone in the Peepmobile.

  Peter threw her onto a lumpy sofa. She cracked her eye just enough to see she was in a generic living room with white walls and beige carpet. So this was what a Russian Mafia safe house looked like.

  He yanked the blanket all the way off her. “Nadia, wake up.”

  She lay as still as death.

  “Maybe this will help.” Denise’s voice. A few moments later, a glass of water was dumped over Nadia’s face. But she’d suspected something like that was coming and she managed to show no reaction.

  Peter hauled her to a semiupright seated position. Nadia let her head loll to one side. Peter patted her cheeks. “C’mon, Nadia, rise and shine. Nadia?”

  The vicious, blistering slap came out of nowhere, and this time Nadia wasn’t able to hide her reaction. She jerked in shock and her eyes flew open. Her cheek stung as if it were burned, and her concussed head went from dull ache to crushing pain, all in the space of a half second.

  Peter smiled cruelly. “I thought that might perk you up.”

  Nadia looked up at him. She wanted him to see hatred and defiance, but what she felt at that moment was raw fear. She’d managed to suppress the memories of the physical pain Peter had inflicted on her, but now they came flooding back. An open-palm slap was the least of her worries.

  “If you want my cooperation,” she said, her voice sounding a bit thick, “you won’t touch me again.”

  Peter laughed. “And, as I’ve said before, you are in no position to make demands. You’ll cooperate, all right. And you’ll start off by telling me what you were doing at that gas station.”

  “Buying coffee.”

  He slapped her again.

  “I was in the neighborhood visiting a friend,” she said, trying desperately not to cry.

  “You always go on social calls when your baby is missing?”

  “She’s Russian. I suspected you were working for the Russians, and I was hoping she might have heard something. I certainly never expected to run into you!”

  “And who is this friend?”

  “Glenda Bokolov,” she said. “She lives on 42nd Street.” Glenda was a real person, an old friend of her grandmother’s. She had ties to the intelligence community, and Peter might recognize her name as legitimate. But he would never find her, so would not be able to discredit the story.

  Peter considered the false information. Clearly he wasn’t taking it at face value, but he didn’t disbelieve it outright, either. “You and your bounty hunter friend. He was with you, no?”

  “Yes.”

  “He gave chase. I killed him.”

  “I don’t believe you!” she said quickly. Rex, killed? Oh, God, no. It couldn’t be. Inside, she felt herself crumbling in hopelessness. But she refused to show Peter what she felt. She continued to stare back at him defiantly.

  “He was driving an old van. I am sure his brains made a horrible mess of the interior.”

  Now she knew he was trying to get an emotional reaction out of her. She would not give him the satisfaction, no matter how horrifying the picture he painted.

  “Your lover is dead,” he tried again. “There is no one to save you now.”

  Still, she refused to react. He slapped her again, harder than last time. She couldn’t help it—she sobbed, and it made Peter smile. He raised his hand again, and this time he made a fist. She cringed and braced herself for the blow, but found the presence of mind to say, “Peter, I can’t walk into JanCo with bruises on my face. It would invite extra scrutiny I don’t need if you expect me to get you the Petro-Nano.”

  To her immense relief, her logic stopped him. “So you’re going to do it?”

  “Of course. What choice do I have as long as you have Lily? But I want to see my baby to make sure she’s all right. Won’t you please let me see Lily, let me hold her?”

  “Your baby. Not ours?”

  “Of course she’s ours.” It was all Nadia could do not to let loose with what she was really thinking—that he was a paranoid, delusional monster and she would never in a million years put a potentially powerful weapon into his hands. But she had to maintain the illusion that she intended to cooperate.

  He reached out and stroked her face where he’d struck her. She tried not to let her revulsion show.

  “Ah, Nadia, we could have been good together. You had so much potential—intelligence, beauty and a high security clearance. We could have used your assets to level the world playing field, take some of the marbles away from America. And we could have gotten rich in the process. But unfortunately you have this ridiculous streak of patriotism for a greedy, paternalistic country that thinks it should rule the world.” He spat on the floor. “You’re Russian, for God’s sake. Your grandmother was a legend in the KGB.”

  “I’m an American,” she said wearily.

  “Because your Russian mother had the bad sense to let an American impregnate her? He didn’t stick around long, did he?”

  “He died. And this country gave my grandmother sanctuary when her own people would have liquidated her, a fact you conveniently forget. Make no mistake, Peter. If you become inconvenient, your wonderful Russian friends will get rid of you without the slightest twinge of conscience.”

  His face twisted into a harsh mask. “You know nothing about my friends.”

  “I know they’ve lied to you about why they want the Petro-Nano. They say they want cheap energy available to all. What they really want is a weapon of mass destruction they can use to blackmail anyone they choose.”

  The smile he gave her chilled her to the bone. “I understand more than you think, darling.”

  Behind Peter, Nadia caught a glimpse of Denise peeking around a doorway at them, smoking furiously. Her expression was one of frank jealousy. She’d probably overheard the entire conversation, and she did not like her boyfriend having such an intimate exchange with his ex-wife.

  Nadia wondered how she could use Denise’s jealousy for her own benefit.

  Peter abruptly stood and hauled Nadia to her feet. He swiveled her around and cut the stocking he’d used to tie her wrists. “Enough talk. We’ll go to JanCo now and you will get the Petro-Nano. After I have verified the sample is genuine, I will release you and Lily. But if you even think about betraying me, you will not see your daughter again.”

  “How will you verify it? There are only a handful of scientists in the world who understand this technology enough to know what they’re looking at.”

  “I will be able to verify the contents,” Peter said smugly. “If you try to fool me as you did before, you will get worse than a broken jaw.”

  Nadia didn’t doubt it. She would lose her life this time.

  “You need to clean up, make yourself presentable so that you may visit your place of employment without garnering suspicion.”

  “You want me to go tonight?”

  “There is no reason to wait. The sooner we get this matter taken care of, the sooner you can get your daughter
back and resume your life.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t get into the lab after eight o’clock. They instituted new security measures. The building is locked down after 8:00 p.m., based on recommendations from Homeland Security.” She prayed Peter wouldn’t catch her in the lie. It sounded reasonable enough. Security measures were in a constant state of flux at JanCo, but at her clearance level she could come and go as she pleased.

  Peter cursed. “We’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “I won’t be able to get the sample during the day while other workers are around. The best time would be after five, when almost everyone is gone. I called in sick the last two days. I can do the same tomorrow, then come in late in the afternoon and say I’m feeling better and I want to catch up on a few things. No one will question me working late under those circumstances.”

  Nadia hated the thought of spending another day as Peter’s prisoner. But the more time she gave to Rex and his team, the better chance they would have of foiling Peter’s plans and getting her and Lily out alive.

  Peter pursed his lips. “All right. Late tomorrow afternoon.”

  “May I see Lily now?” When his face hardened, she quickly added, “What difference will it make? I’ve told you I’ll give you what you want. Letting me see Lily won’t change anything.”

  “You can see your brat when I have what I want.”

  Peter allowed her to use the bathroom, wash her face, brush her teeth. She went through the motions numbly, trying not to think too hard about what Peter had said. Surely he hadn’t really killed Rex. Peter had just been trying to break her down. But if it was true? No, no, don’t think, just brush. Up and down, up and down.

  She hoped that Peter would not restrain her again, that he would believe his threats about Lily would ensure she wouldn’t try to escape. But when she emerged from the bathroom, he led her to one of the dining-room chairs, where he secured her with duct tape.

  “I won’t be able to sleep like this,” she protested. “The work you’re requiring of me tomorrow is exacting. I can’t do it if I’m delirious from lack of sleep.”

  “You can sleep tomorrow. For tonight, I want you secure so that I can sleep.”

  “I don’t see how you can sleep.” She couldn’t resist. “Doesn’t your conscience gnaw at your insides like a rat?”

  Without warning, he punched her in the stomach so hard she retched. “I can do many things to you that won’t leave marks,” he said as she writhed and gasped, trying to get some air back into her lungs. “Keep that in mind next time you’re tempted to be smart.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After sitting upright in a supremely uncomfortable position for the entire night, Nadia was allowed to lie down the next day when Peter could keep a close watch on her. She was given water but no food, then commanded to sleep.

  She knew she had to sleep. Her mind was already sluggish from lack of food and rest, and she would need as much strength as she could muster if she wanted to get through the next few hours. Still, as she lay on the lumpy, musty sofa, she found herself struggling to stay awake in case Lily cried or called for her.

  At some point her baby did cry from the other end of the house. Though it tore at Nadia’s heart to hear those sounds of distress and be helpless to do anything about it, she was nonetheless reassured that Lily was alive. She was finally able to fall asleep.

  Later, she was able to take a shower. When she emerged, she found some clean clothes and a few basic toiletries. Peter would know that she normally did not go to work in jeans, so he’d provided her with a casual pair of slacks and a sweater, even some under-things.

  How very thoughtful, she fumed as she put on the discount-store clothes. They fit well, and though they weren’t high quality, they were in a style she might have bought herself. Peter knew her tastes and it irritated her.

  When she came out, he handed her a cheese sandwich. “Eat that,” he ordered. “I don’t want you passing out before you’ve served your purpose.”

  She ate the sandwich, thinking it tasted wonderful. She hadn’t eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. She was given a canned soft drink, too. The sleep and the boost to her blood sugar cleared her head, allowed her to think rationally again.

  And with rational thought came a radical idea. She’d been racking her brain trying to come up with some way out of this situation, some way to save her life and Lily’s without giving Peter what he wanted. And her ideas had done nothing but chase their tails. She’d been given a Hobson’s Choice—her daughter’s life, or potentially the lives of millions, billions of people.

  That was no choice at all.

  To Nadia’s surprise, just as she finished her scant meal Denise strolled into the dining room with Lily slung casually on her hip, as if they hadn’t spent the last umpteen hours deliberately keeping mother and daughter separated. Lily took one look at Nadia, gave a shriek of joy and held out her arms to Nadia. Instinctively Nadia was out of her chair and lunging for her daughter, but Peter grabbed her by the arm and held her in check.

  Was he so cruel that he would bring them this close and not let them touch?

  But then he relented. “Let her hold the brat,” he said carelessly.

  “Gladly,” Denise said, practically tossing the baby at Nadia.

  Nadia gathered Lily into her arms and squeezed her hard. She was dirty and smelly and probably hadn’t had her diaper changed in some time, given that Peter hadn’t been able to complete his Pampers purchase last night. But she was the most wonderful little lump of humanity Nadia had ever felt. She buried her nose in Lily’s silky brown hair and inhaled deeply. Ah, yes, baby shampoo, still discernible.

  “Lily, oh Lily, my precious one.”

  Lily, overwhelmed, started crying.

  “Oh, no, darling, don’t cry. Mama’s here.”

  “That’s charming,” Denise said sourly. “Is she always so happy to see Mommy?”

  Nadia ignored Denise and focused on her baby. She did not know what the evening might bring, and this might be the very last time she saw her child. She struggled to commit the feeling of her to memory, to engrave it into her brain so that she would never, ever forget, in this world or the next.

  “Please,” she whispered into Lily’s ear. “Remember me, too.” But she knew Lily was too young to remember anything from this experience when she was older. Maybe that was a good thing.

  A foreign noise, a metallic snapping, pulled Nadia from the bittersweet haze of her reunion with Lily. She focused on her ex-husband, and saw that he was holding a large pair of nippers. That alone should have frightened her, but the expression on his face was what she found truly terrifying. She’d never seen such naked cruelty.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “This tool is very sharp, very powerful. With it, I can lop off a half-inch tree branch with no problem. A baby’s fingers will be easy work.”

  Nadia’s every fiber froze with horror. “Oh, God. Peter, how could you possibly even think something like that? What evil’s inside you—she’s your own flesh and blood!”

  “I very much doubt that. At any rate, I won’t be doing the lopping. It will be Denise. And trust me, after taking care of your brat for two days, there is no love lost between Denise and Lily.”

  Nadia held on to Lily more tightly and focused on Denise. “You’re a woman. How can you condone this hideousness? Do you have children?”

  Denise sneered. “I grew up close to Chernobyl. I will never have children, thank God. I do not like them.”

  “And do you like being Peter’s minion? Does he tell you he loves you? Don’t you think he might be using you, too, just as he’s now using me? Did he ever offer to change Lily’s diaper, or did he make you do all the dirty work?”

  Denise’s expression faltered for a split second, and Nadia knew she’d made her point.

  Peter knew, too. Abruptly he grabbed onto Lily and ripped her out of Nadia’s gra
sp, then passed her off to Denise as if the baby might give him some disease. “That’s enough. Denise will be following behind us in a separate car with Lily—and the tool. If you deviate from our plan in the slightest degree, she will know, and she will not hesitate to cause your daughter pain. If you betray me, Lily’s death will not be fast or compassionate. She will die screaming in hideous pain. Is that very, very clear, darling?”

  Nadia felt the blood drain from her head, and she swayed slightly on her feet. He was only trying to scare her. He wouldn’t do that. Denise wouldn’t do that. But seeing the sick, self-satisfied expression on Denise’s face, Nadia realized the woman could be cruel indeed. And she despised Nadia for having had Peter before her.

  “It’s very clear,” Nadia said.

  She and Peter climbed into the gold Town Car. He did not bother to tie her up. He knew his latest threat was incentive enough to keep her from attacking him or calling for help.

  “Once we get to JanCo,” Peter said, “we will park in the employee lot and you will go inside alone. I will stay in the car. Denise will be some distance away, watching from her car.”

  Nadia’s mind raced. If she was allowed to go into JanCo alone—and with the company’s security measures, there was no way Peter could get in with her—she had a chance. There were phones inside JanCo, people she could go to for help.

  Peter laughed, jolting her. “I know what you’re thinking. You will not be able to signal for help. You will be wearing a microphone, and I will be able to hear every word you say, every move you make. If you do anything we haven’t agreed on…” He made a cutting motion with his fingers, grinning maniacally all the time.

  He was actually enjoying this. He had no chance of succeeding with his plan. She would not give him the Petro-Nano. He would be arrested and spend the rest of his life incarcerated. But would Lily survive?

  Nadia swallowed back tears of despair. How could she offer up the life of her own child? How could any mother? She would so much rather die herself than lose Lily.

  The idea she’d only flirted with earlier jumped back into her mind. It was horrible. But it might be her only chance, her only choice—to not make a choice.