Page 101 of Shadow Blind

Offering him the information had been a calculated risk. Once they interrogated him, Grigory would give up the safe’s location and combination, anyway. Odds were, he’d give up more than the safe at that point. But if she offered the safe to the assholes right off the bat, and they found what they were looking for, maybe they wouldn’t interrogate Grigory here. Maybe they’d wait until they hauled him back to wherever they came from. These Americans were deep in enemy territory, right next to a heavily patrolled Russian submarine base. They must be nervous, itching to get home.

Besides, losing this last nanobot bomb wasn’t important. Clark Nantz had plenty more where it came from. The fucker thought he’d kept his identity secret through his false personas and dummy corporations. He hadn’t.

Nantz wasn’t as clever as he thought. None of the men she dealt with were.

While her efforts to delay the questioning hadn’t worked, so far Grigory hadn’t told them anything that would hurt her.

Widening her eyes until they watered, Eloise added a quiver to her jaw and another round of heavy sniffles. She needed to keep up the theatrics until they dropped her off at this haven they’d promised her. Then she could get back to running her business. If she worked them right, maybe they’d sit her next to Grigory on their ride out, and she could use the spring-loaded syringe on her former partner.

That would take care of her Grigory problem.

Too bad she only had one of her lipstick syringes. But her guard would have questioned why she was riffling through the pockets of her clothes. And she’d been distracted with keeping Muffy under control. If her baby got loose and attacked one of these assholes, they probably would shoot her.

At least she’d been able to transfer the tube from her dress pocket to her coat when she changed clothes. Plus, she’d stuffed several pairs of shoes into the satchel. She’d chosen the highest of heels, the ones with the five-inch stiletto blades spring-loaded into the six-inch heels.

What she wouldn’t give to stab the big asshole with one of her fancy shoes. He’d been so condescending when she’d walked out of the closet with her favorite blades strapped to her feet. A smirk touched her mouth before she turned it into a lip wobble.

Like most men, once she’d presented him with what he expected, he didn’t bother to look any deeper.

Doubling down on her trembling lips and teary eyes, she studied the two assholes hauling Grigory to his feet. They wore white and black speckled fatigues with matching backpacks. Even their helmets and boots were white. They’d certainly color coordinated with the weather. An aura of lethality surrounded them, like they knew a thousand ways to kill without breaking a sweat.

While she hadn’t expected anyone to track them to this far-flung compound in the middle of Russia, she’d still taken precautions in case they were found. Since the Americans were the ones determined to find her, she’d chosen the least likely place they’d infiltrate: Russia, next to a nuclear submarine base. If they were caught, their presence in Petropavlovsk would spark an international incident and set relations with Russia back by decades. She’d been confident the yanks wouldn’t chance that.

Even so, she ordered Grigory to triple their guard. Which he had. Not that the increased protection had done them any good. The big asshole and his fucking soldiers had slipped through all the guards and accessed the house—hell, the bedroom—entirely too easily,

She sighed, absently scratching the underside of Muffy’s chin, taking comfort in the cool, silky texture of her fur. Even if the leader let her go, like he’d promised—she’d have to start over, find another male partner to act as the face of her operation. Setting up a new partner as the face and voice of her business would take some time—most of it spent locating the right guy to work with.

Ruthless men with pliable dispositions were impossible to find. Nor did such men take orders from women. Instead of finding such a man, she’d have to create the appearance of one, like she’d done with Grigory. Her former partner had been a two-cent thug when she’d stumbled across him. He looked the part, though, acted it, too. But more crucially, he’d been willing to take orders from her. He’d been quite the find. It was a shame she had to let him go.

After she set up shop again, she’d reach out to Clark Nantz and threaten to expose him if he didn’t send her more nanobot weapons. Hell, maybe she could even convince him to work with her. She’d blame the stolen bots and the unauthorized sale on Grigory.

But no matter what happened going forward, she’d be okay. So far, Grigory had spilled nothing detrimental during the interrogation. Even if she couldn’t get close enough to kill him before they threw her off their transport, she’d be long gone by the time they realized she was behind the weapons dealing. And there was nothing Grigory could tell them that would affect her return to business.

While he knew which city her weapons cache was stored, he didn’t know the exact location. She moved the depot after each sale. Nor did her former lover know any of the company’s banking information—or at least the real banking information.

Sure, he knew what account number to give for payment during an arms deal. But as soon as the money hit the account, she transferred most of it out. She’d hired the best computer hacker in existence to cover the transfer tracks and create a mirror account for Grigory’s benefit, one that allowed him the illusion of a true financial partnership, without allowing him control over the account itself—beyond transferring a few hundred thousand. He’d never tested the upper limit of his financial freedom, satisfied with the withdrawals the account permitted him to make.

But the mirror account would cease to exist as soon as she missed the second check in. She was confident nobody would find the actual accounts. Lord knew she’d spent a lot of money to make sure of that.

As soon as these soldiers released her, she and Muffy would disappear, find a new partner, and return to business.

In the meantime, she’d already received two million euros from the sale of the fourth vial. This influx of cash, along with what was already in her accounts, would float her for a very long time if things didn’t go as planned.

Day 17

Denali, Alaska

“Would you ladies like another cup of coffee?” the nurse manning the ER desk asked.

Demi’s belly gurgled sourly at the prospect. “Nothing for me, thank you.”

“I’ll pass, too. But thanks for the offer,” Kait echoed politely, her face blank, her eyes unfocused.

There had already been too many cups of coffee on an empty stomach. What Demi really needed was food. Solid food. Something to soak up the acid from all those cups of coffee. But the thought of walking down to the cafeteria and forcing herself to eat felt like too much effort.

They hadn’t been allowed into the isolation unit, so Demi and Kait were camped out in the ER’s waiting room. Before he’d left for Russia, Wolf had offered them the use of a base apartment. They’d declined, opting to remain close to the clinic doctors and any news they might bring.

Twenty-four hours later, the muscles of Demi’s neck, shoulders, and back protested that decision. After so many hours of sitting, it was impossible to find a comfortable position. Judging by Kait’s countless laps around the waiting room, her muscles weren’t faring any better. Demi had taken just as many laps, but the benefits of moving were fleeting.

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