“Oh really? Huge shock there.”
“No, I’m serious. I’m taking a swing and I might miss. You need to… prepare yourself.”
He leans back, biting on my lip. I really don’t like where this is going. “What’s that mean?”
“I put together a go-bag for you. There’s cash, passports, a gun, train tickets, and instructions on how to get to Moscow and who to reach out to once you’re there. Yelena will take care of you?—“
“Stop it.”
“This is important. If I die, you have to run. Artyom will come after you. Go to Moscow, tell Yelena what happened, and she’ll find somewhere safe. You’re rich now, Nika. You can do anything, go anywhere. Use that money to be happy.”
“That’s what I’m already doing.”
“Good. Promise me. If this goes wrong, you’ll run.”
“Gabe, stop.”
His grip on me tightens painfully. “Promise.” His voice trembles with pain.
I touch his face with the back of my hand and nod. “I promise. I’ll find Aunt Yelena.”
“Good.” Relief relaxes him, but I still hate this. I know it’s a possibility, that he might not win, that he might end up getting killed, but I’m trying not to think about it.
Gabe has to make it through. Otherwise, what has this all been for?
I press into him and he seems content to let it go, but my mind’s a mess and I’m fighting back against a fear that seems like it wants to drag me back under, drown me, choke me and break me, and it might if I let it.
CHAPTER 27
GABE
Since I started all this, I kept telling myself that the men who work for me are interchangeable. Some are more competent than others, but in general they’re bodies with guns attached and not much more.
I’ve been good at lying to myself.
Now sitting in a car outside of a Parisian apartment complex, I wish Daniel were here. I’d feel more settled.
Instead, I have other good men. Solid soldiers, skilled at their jobs, prepared to kill and to risk their own lives for the mission. They understand what’s at stake. We win this, we win it all. The ultimate prize.
“Sir, we’re in position.” An older man called Evgeny sits in the passenger seat frowning at a tablet. It shows positional data screaming in alongside call records and other communications. The text flows across the screen like a tide of language.
“And you’re sure this is the place?”
“It’s where all the calls route through.” He looks up at the building. “Penthouse apartment. Whoever’s inside is running the show.”
I consider that for a few minutes. This is a risk and we all know it. There’s no guarantee Artyom’s in there. But based on the communications network we hacked into, all calls lead back to here, which makes me think the head of the snake is waiting inside. Maybe it’s a trap, or maybe we misunderstand something fundamental, but either way I don’t have anything else to go on.
If Daniel were here, he’d make some stupid joke.
“I’m going in first.” I push the door open and get out. “I want a team on the windows. Snipers need to watch the entrances and exits. I don’t want to get trapped in there.”
“Understood, sir.”
“And Evgeny? This car doesn’t move from this spot unless I’m confirmed dead, understand?”
“I won’t go anywhere, sir.”
“Good. Where’s my fire team?”
