“Sasha, why did you test La Servante?”
“Fuck you,” he replied before spitting at my feet.
“Look, I understand how you feel. You’ve beenplayed, and it never feels good to find information like that out. But you need to understand me when I say that we’re your only true friends right now. Once Ilya finds out you’ve been working with a CIA operative for months, he’ll take your head before you have a chance to explain. Even Zivon will come after you. And we all know what kind of animal he is.”
“I haven’t been working with anyone,” Sasha seethed. “You’re setting me up.”
“The only way we can protect you from the Petrakovs is if you cooperate with us. Otherwise, adopted son or not, he’ll skin you alive if he thinks you’re a traitor. And believe me when I tell you just how easy it will be for us to convince him.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Tell me why you tested La Servante? I spotted a couple of forgeries in your gallery, so I don’t think your quality control has always been so strong. So, why the multi-spectrum analyzer? Why focus on that painting?” I asked.
“Let me give you a free piece of advice, pal,” Mr. B said to Sasha. “Once these guys have you, they have you. That’s it. You’re not the worm that wiggles off the hook. You’re bait now. So, either start getting used to the idea of being a worm or get used to being worm food.”
“I’m not afraid of their threats,” Sasha said.
“Then you’re not as smart as you think. Tell them what they need to know, start to establish trust with your new keepers. It’ll help you out in the long run,” Mr. B said.
“You know who I answer to,” Sasha said. “If Ihelp you, I’m as good as dead.”
“You’re dead if you don’t help,” I said. “From one dead man walking to another, trust me.”
“What do mean?” Sasha asked.
“You were tipped off about the painting, weren’t you?”
Sasha nodded. “I was sent an email from an anonymous account warning me about the painting. I probably wouldn’t have known otherwise. The email also warned me that Elenor wasn’t who she claimed to be. I was ready to kill you both, but then you told me you were working for Mr. B, and I thought that’s what the person who sent the email must have meant.”
“What did the sender say he wanted in return?”
“Nothing,” Sasha said. “It was just a warning.”
“A setup is what it was,” I said.
“We’ve got to get back home,” Tess said.
“How are you planning on getting out of here?” Sasha asked, smiling.
“You’re going to personally escort us out,” I replied.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because your boss is about to go down and you with him. I’ve figured out what’s going on here and believe me, coming with us and cooperating is your only option. A shit storm is imminent, and it’s headed straight for St. Petersburg.”
* * *
We arrived back at Pulkova airport just before three o’clock in the morning and loaded our two new assets into the jet. Sasha Fedya and ‘HeadwoundHarry,’ as we’d come to nickname his bodyguard, Vova. He’d spent most of the night keeping pressure on the nasty gash in his scalp I’d given him earlier. Once we were in the air, Tess found the first aid kit and stitched him up. She did a pretty damned good job too.
I made my way to the back of the plane where Darwood was sitting alone.
“This seat taken?” I asked.
“Be my guest,” Darwood replied.
“Ya know, you kinda made me shit my pants in there with Sasha tonight,” I said.
He cocked his head. “Oh, yeah?”
