Page 94 of Lethal Legacy

“Sergei.” Papasha breaks in. “The Cardeñases have a Russian connection.Rosa’s contact told her that is how they found her.”

In the short silence that follows, fear wraps around my child’s heart, the previously unknown terror of realizing those whom I had thought invincible are suddenly, incomprehensibly, afraid.

When the visitor speaks again, his voice is deeper, harsher. “Just because they’re Russian doesn’t mean they know anything about us, Aleksander.”

“Why else would they trade Rosa’s whereabouts to the Colombians?” Papasha sounds impatient. “Russians don’t betray each other—unless they think they stand to gain something. And whether you deny them or not, Sergei, the rumors about you, and the contents of the vault, continue to swirl. Now we must assume the past has finally found us.”

“Perhaps.” The visitor pours vodka into glasses and raises his own. “Za druzhbun, brother.”

“How can you drink to friendship?” My mother’s voice is shaking. “Your entire family is also at risk, Sergei.”

“And I will protect them,” the man growls. “Just as I will protect you, if you will only let me.” He lights a cigarette from the butt of the last and draws deeply. “What did your contact tell you about this Russian connection?”

“Nothing.” Papasha shakes his head. “All we know is that the Cardeñases are coming for Rosa—and that it was a Russian who leaked her whereabouts.” He empties his glass. “That is all I need to know. We both know what happens to those who wait too long to act. I will not make that mistake again.”

“There is a difference between being smart and being reckless, Aleksander.” The man’s voice is measured, but there is steel beneath it. “You know what happens when families are split up.”

“The moment yourvorbegin asking questions, we will both have a target on our backs.” Papasha pours more vodka. “If we act now, we have the advantage of surprise. Rumors may surround you, Sergei, but none know of the connection between you and me. If we act quickly, they may never know.

“But if you go to war with the Cardeñases on my behalf, or the hunt for the Russian informant becomes public, how long do you think it will take before people put two and two together?” He shakes his head. “I cannot ensure that vault stays closed, and our children stay safe, unless my wife is free to do what I need her to.”

“Or you can let me hunt the bastards down,” the stranger growls, “and kill them before they even get close.”

“We said that once before.” Papasha’s voice sends a shock of fear through me. It’s cold and hard, the voice of a man I don’t know. “I will not live another Paris, Sergei.”

The deathly silence that follows frightens me. It’s full of ghosts I can’t see and don’t understand.

When the visitor finally speaks, his voice is resigned, quieter than before.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

Papasha leans across the table toward the other man. “Get Rosa out of the country. Give her a new identity, one that can take her anywhere she needs to go. Hide her tracks well, and don’t tell me how you’ve done it, until and unless we know it is safe. She will take the key to the vault with her. If we’re right, her disappearance will expose both her enemies, and ours. We can deal with them once and for all. Rosa will stay one step ahead of them until we are certain the danger has passed. And so long as that vault can’t be opened, our children are protected.”

“You cannot use Rosa as bait!” The man is almost pleading.

“I know how to run, Sergei.” My mother’s voice is sad but strong. “I’ve done it before, I can do it again. But I can’t run with Roman, and I can’t protect him if they find us. Not like you can.”

“Then let me take him to the compound—”

“No.” Papasha’s voice is firm. “That will only confirm the rumors. There must be no connection between your family and mine, or all of our secrecy has been for nothing. It’s why I’ve always insisted we use the tunnels to visit you. If there’s any chance it is Ilyan behind this—”

“Then he is a dead man.” The visitor’s voice is flat and deadly. “And I will find him long before he finds us.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t.”

There is another silence, a longer one this time.

“Sergei.” Papasha speaks again, quietly. “I owe you my life. Not once, but a hundred times over.” The visitor makes a harsh noise of dismissal, but Papasha speaks over him. “No. Let me finish. Even after we made it to America, we both knew this wasn’t over. We changed our names, and swore to maintain a discreet distance from one another until we were certain we had either hunted down the danger, or outlived it. Now we have to face the possibility that danger is shadowing us again. You must remember the lessons our parents taught us: a door cannot be breached so long as the keys to it remain hidden.”

“I built that vault first to protect our fathers’ legacy, and then to protect our children from that same legacy.” The stranger’s voice rises with anger. “I made those decisions to save lives, Aleksander, not to risk those most precious to us.”

“And this is me trying to help you do that!” My father’s voice is uncharacteristically vehement. He draws a deep breath. When he speaks again he is calmer, but still strong.

“After Paris you took the legacy our fathers left us both, and made it your own. I have let you carry that burden alone, for too long. I’m asking this of you now in their name, as well as for myself: if we cannot escape that lethal legacy, then let me at least ensure our children do not pay the price for it. Let me do what I must to ensure that all our children can live the life we dream for them, free of the past.”

“How is this freeing them from that past?” The man sounds exasperated. “I built that vault to protect us, not to hold us hostage—”

“And it won’t. All I ask is that you promise to get my wife to safety. If all goes well, there will be no need to do anything more. But if it does not... then our children will have options. We will never live another Paris. And I know that no matter what happens, you will protect my son.”

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