Page 109 of Elite Metal: Warriors

“Ming Kow is not my target.” She wanted the ringleader. The man who had ordered the hit on her father. She wanted Nurelnikov. And she wanted him dead. And the only way to get to him was through Ming Kow.

“Ah, but you do want to take him down, dorogaya. I know you do. I remember a little girl, so fierce, so resolved. She made a vow, that one. Do you remember?”

“Of course I do.” She’d vowed to find them all. Kill them all. That goal had fed her soul for decades. “It was a childish vow.”

“Was it?”

“To kill every human trafficker on the planet? Be serious, Gregor.” Besides, they were like the hydra. Cut off one head and ten more would spring forth.

“No one can stop them all, but you, dorogaya, have taken many of them out. Surely enough to have your vengeance against Viktor.”

“I will never have vengeance against Viktor.” The bastard, the slaver who had made her life a living hell, and Nurelnikov’s associate, had died far too quickly.

“So where does it end? How does it end? When can you be…happy?”

Happy? She gaped at him. Happy had never figured in their conversations or trainings, or anything. “Are you getting soft, old man?”

“Perhaps I am. But I find I want that for you.”

“Surely you’re not suggesting that I…retire?” Hell. She knew no other life than this.

“Move to Wyoming. Meet a nice man. Have babies.”

“Babies?” She hadn’t trained her whole life to be an agent just to turn around and give it all up for…babies. She had to swallow a lump in her throat. She had no idea where it had come from. Babies? Really?

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful? To just be?”

“I don’t know that I could ever just be. And Wyoming?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Wyoming.”

Well, really. Enough of this nonsense. “What were you and Ming Kow talking about tonight?” The fact that she’d caught them together still irritated her, like a poppy seed stuck in her teeth.

He grimaced. “You won’t like it.”

“Did you imagine I would?”

“Donovan has ordered a shipment for a party he’s throwing in conjunction with a big football game next month.”

“Naturally.” Nat set her teeth. It was a story she’d heard many times before. Major sporting events, often in the U.S., were a goldmine for human traffickers who catered to wealthy clients with exotic tastes. And those with not so exotic tastes. Men and women were brought in—often against their will—to “service” the partygoers. It was nothing less than sexual slavery. It took place so far beneath the surface, most people had no idea it was happening.

But it was.

Most Americans refused to believe it could be true—surely not in their country—or, if they did believe it, they turned a blind eye. But it was an epidemic. Thousands, maybe millions of humans lived in bondage.

It infuriated Natalia—and only partly because she’d once been one of them.

“Donovan was very specific in his requirements.”

A chill ran down her spine. “What?”

Gregor cleared his throat. Looked away. “Under ten.”

“Ten years?”

“Yes.”

Hell. Bloody hell. Her pulse thrummed. Sweat beaded on her brow. Oh. She wanted to kill him. Kill him now.