“The czars run the world. They go by different names now.”
“It’s enough to make someone a communist again.”
“I would not let one of Lvov’s men hear you speak like that,” Nemesis said.
“You know a lot about this.”
“I was there, standing guard against a wall before I was thrown out of Russian Army for fighting. We proletariat are always there, watching the czars rule the world.”
“The nephew will kill the aunt. Sounds like Russian novel,” the other guy said with a sneer.
“Our art reflects our politics. Logan Bell has positioned himself to be head of White Russians. We will report to him by spring, next year. He will be good leader.”
Sarah fought to keep her eyes closed and breathe evenly because her eyeballs were trying to bug out of her head.
After they landed, the Nemesis cut the duct tape around her arms and thighs and jerked her out of her seat, dangling her from his hold on her upper arm. “Time to go.”
Her head was buzzing, and the American soil under her feet—under the tarmac under her feet—seemed fragile, so easily destroyed.
Nope.Nope.Not on her watch.
Outside, the sun hung at its apex, showering blinding light over the airport as the Russian mercenaries hustled her and Blaze down a staircase to yet more black SUVs waiting on the tarmac.
The White Russian organization must get a fleet discount. Sarah should ask her aunt if she could get in on that. Her old pickup truck was on its last legs and was going to need a ring job soon. Fleet discounts got really good rates.
Two mercenaries shoved Blaze into the SUV behind the one they steered her towards.
Drat,Sarah needed totellhim what she’d heard.
The guy pushed her into the SUV’s back seat and climbed in after her, grinning his stupid sneer.
The dashboard clock read 11:48.
Sarah had been kidnapped, flown to New York, and was about to be murdered, all before noon on a Tuesday.
It had been a week almost to the minute since Blaze Robinson had broken into her Iowa farmhouse and threatened her with an unloaded gun and a dull machete.
She hadn’t known then that it would be the last week of her life.
24
WHITE HOLDINGS, LLC
BLAZE
Mary Varvara Bell’s office was painted and upholstered as icy-white as the Russian steppes, and it was a long walk door through that tundraesque landscape from the hallway to the desk.
Theemptydesk.
Bell wasn’t in her office.
But surely, she would be back.
She wouldn’t miss the show.
Mary Varvara Bell’d had the hired goons transport her opponents to her lair to be killed before her.
Classic Evil Overlord mistake.
