Page 105 of Lethal Alliance

“I’ll bring them home, Mickey.”

He meets my eyes steadily. “I know.”

He watches us enter the limo, but he turns away before the car even starts moving, opening his laptop again, his face a mask of concentration.

I know he’d only be a liability on the ground, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could take him. If anyone has earned the right to be there when the girls are found, it’s Mickey.

The freeway glides by. Nobody speaks. We’re all counting minutes.

Almost thirty of them have gone by when my earpiece crackles to life.

“Everglades secure.”

Mak delivers the news without embellishment. My initial rush of relief fades when he continues, “No sign of either target anywhere on the premises.”

“What the fuck?” I stare at Dimitry across the limo. “We’ve had men watching the place for days. What do they mean, there’s no sign of Inger or Fedorov?”

“They knew we were watching.” Mak’s voice is tight and controlled, but I can hear the tension beneath it. “The guard outside was heavy enough, but inside the place was deserted. Barely so much as a skeleton crew—and one man who is clearly a stand-in for Fedorov himself. Dressed the same, similar height, age, features.”

“Jesus.” I pass a hand over my face. “He was expecting us.”

“That, or he deliberately runs a dupe system in case anyone is watching.”

“No.” Unease trickles down my spine. “He’s up to something.”

“We still going ahead?” Dimitry eyes me across the vehicle. We’re ten miles from the Coconut Grove compound.

“I think we have to.” I focus on the earpiece. “Mak?”

“I don’t like it at all, but I agree. If we hesitate now, we risk losing our only chance. But we need to assume we’re walking into an ambush. If Fedorov wasn’t at the Everglades, then he’s either in the Coconut Grove compound or somewhere close. I’ve got people on the water now, and covering every angle, but there’s no sign of him yet.”

“Goddammit.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Every instinct is screaming at me that something is wrong.

I pull out my phone and dial London. “Bryce. We’ve lost Fedorov. Is the house secure?”

“Yes.” His answer comes immediately. “There’s no problem there. We’re watching every corner.”

“Good. I want every man we have on it, and I don’t want Darya and Rosa out of your sight for a moment. Any sign of trouble, get them both into the safe room. Where’s Vera?”

“Right now, she’s in the kitchen. Boss.” Bryce pauses, just long enough to make my unease ratchet up a notch.

“What is it?”

“Vera. She’s not at all happy about me taking her phone or monitoring the line here. And—well, she’s asking about Nikolai. She wants to talk to him.”

Fuck.

Amid everything else that’s going on, I’ve neglected to mention to Vera that her remaining son is no longer with us. Or that I was the one who put the bullet through his head. I’m not saying I forgot to tell her; I just didn’t.

“Head her off for the next hour or so. I’ll call as soon as this is done and deal with her.”

“Copy that.” Bryce hesitates. “She’s being particularly unpleasant. With Darya.”

“Khuy.”Christ, Vera is a fucking nightmare. “Tell Darya and Rosa to be ready. We’ll get them out of there as soon as I can. And stay fucking vigilant, Bryce. Nobody, and I do mean nobody, goes in or out of that house until I give you the go-ahead. Shit’s about to go down.”

“Copy that.”

I end the call with my gut churning, and not just because Fedorov is missing. “I never should have put Darya in that fucking house.”

---