“It’s either this or we keep you in custody indefinitely,” Bell said.“Those black sites you’ve heard about…all real.It’d be the work of a minute to disappear you.”
Mercer didn’t resist when Bryn stood next to her and grasped her wrist.The moment he made contact, the room disappeared.He zeroed in on her strongest memory first and it was raw with grief.“I see a cemetery.There’srain falling and mourners dressed in black.Their faces aren’t clear, as if she doesn’t really see them.There are crosses and Russian words carved into the headstones.She’s standing beside an open grave, watching as a coffin is lowered into the ground.She’s cold but doesn’t care.A man puts his hand on her shoulder.He says, ‘He will pay, Katarina.I promise you this.He will pay for what he did to our boy.’His voice is heavily accented.That’s it.”Bryn switched his focus to intent.“Oh, oh wow.”
The intensity of emotion crashed over Bryn like a physical wave.It was followed by the familiar spike of pain behind his eyes that always came with difficult readings.This one was worse than usual.The combination of overwhelming grief and cold, calculated murder was like acid on his mental defenses.He released Mercer’s wrist and staggered back, one hand pressed to his temple as the migraine hit him like a sledgehammer.
“Fuck,” he gasped, fumbling for a chair.The room spun, and he could taste copper in his mouth.
“Bryn?”Gunnar was at his side, helping him into a chair.“What did you get?”
“Give me a second,” Bryn managed, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain.“That was…extreme.”
Mercer—Katarina—watched him with cold satisfaction.“Hurts, does it?Good.”
“Well, aren’t you fucking a ray of sunshine,” Bryn griped, though his usual snark was dampened by the pounding in his skull.He looked up at Bell, blinking to clear his vision.“She’s not FBI or government and she’s not working for Russo.This is family business for her.Russian, I think.”
Bell’s eyebrows shot up.“Russians?That’s a new wrinkle.”
“Her real name is Katarina.A relative, I’d guess her brother, died in one of Russo’s operations, and she’s out for revenge.”Bryn rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pressure.“But here’s the kicker.She’s not planning to capture Russo.She wants him dead.”
“How dead are we talking?”
“Very dead.The kind where she takes her time about it,” Bryn said.“She intends to garrote him.She’s rehearsed it over and over in her mind, wants him to know he’s dying, wants to watch his face as she slices the wire into his windpipe.Her intent is crystal clear.She wants Russo to suffer the same terror as whoever it was that died.”
“My brother.Pavel.Russo had him executed.He was shot in the face,” Katarina said.
“Well, that changes things significantly,” Bell said.“I know this case.Pavel Kozlov was the heir apparent to the Kozlov crime family, based out of Brighton Beach, Brooklyn.”
Katarina sneered at him.“You idiots are so dumb, you don’t know how little control you have.”
“You can hold her longer, Bell, while you investigate the organized crime connection,” Gunnar pointed out.“That should buy us some time to figure out how this affects our operations.”
“Agreed.”Bell looked at Katarina with new interest.“Looks like you just became a much more interesting person, Ms.Kozlova.We’re going to have a lot more to talk about.Thanks to our augur friend here, Brighton Beach is about to get very popular with federal agents.”
“Come on,” Gunnar said to Bryn.“Let’s get you back to headquarters.You look like hell.”
“Feel like it too,” Bryn admitted, getting to his feet.The room only swayed a little this time, which he counted as progress.He took a last glance at Katarina as they left but her face was blank and emotionless.Her eyes cold.
Bell walked them to the elevator.“I have to admit, that was impressive work.Even if it left our boy here looking like he went ten rounds with a heavyweight.”
“Occupational hazard,” Bryn said, managing a weak grin.“Though usually the headaches aren’t quite this spectacular.That woman has some serious emotional baggage.Her intent was utterly focused.She wants an opportunity to get Russo alone, which might explain why she went to see Peregrine Frost, and she wants Russo to know he’s dying.”
“What a charmer,” Bell said.“I’ll keep you posted on what we dig up about the Kozlov connection.This could be the break we’ve been looking for.”
“If Kozlov is willing to send his own niece after Russo, this is personal for him.Family revenge is the most dangerous kind,” Gunnar said.
“When do Russian mobsters ever play games?”Bell hit the elevator call button.
The elevator arrived with a soft ding, and Bryn collapsed against the back wall after he and Gunnar stepped inside.
“Seriously, though,” Bell continued as the doors started to close, “good work, Bryn.Even if you do look like you need a week at a spa.”
“Sounds amazing,” Bryn mumbled.
“That was one hell of a reading,” Gunnar said as the elevator descended.
“Yeah, well, remind me to charge extra next time someone wants me to dive into the mind of a vengeful Russian,” Bryn said.“Some memories are not worth the price of admission.”
The ride back to GCR headquarters started in comfortable silence, Bryn slumped in the passenger seat with his head back and eyes closed.He sensed Gunnar’s concerned glances every few seconds.
