There’ll be time to do that later, when the girls are safe.
That is true enough. It’s certainly rational. But I’m honest enough to know it’s also bullshit.
The fact that Ofelia is my daughter terrifies me. It shatters my being in a way I can’t allow to happen, not when I need to focus. It raises a thousand feelings of guilt and shame that I can’t face, not now, not when so much rides on my ability to remain strong.
Even if I manage to get her back safely, I can’t help but wonder if Ofelia will even want to speak to me, let alone build any kind of relationship with me. God knows I’ve let her down in every way a father can. Worse, I have no idea if I am even capable of becoming the father she needs. The one she deserves.
Fuck.If the MTT goes any faster, it will fly off the edge of the mountain.
That doesn’t stop me from trying.
I arriveat the lab to intense activity and Mickey frowning at me over his screen.
“Darya should be here.”
“Next time.” I force a smile. “She’s exhausted. She needs to rest.” He subsides, but the look in his eyes tells me it’s a temporary reprieve. The days of Mickey taking orders without question are definitely gone.
“Pavel has set the call up in the secure room.” Dimitry nods at a door leading off the main floor. “Five minutes.”
I make a coffee and head in, closing the door behind me. I don’t want any witnesses to this call. Not yet.
The line lights up right on time, and I answer immediately.
“You rang?” Mak’s upper-crust British drawl might be responding to an invitation to lawn bowls. Fucker always sounds like he’s just stepped out of Buckingham Palace.
“I need that favor.” I launch in without preamble. “Vilnus Orlov has kidnapped my daughters. He’s holding them in a compound in Miami, the same one that used to belong to the Petrovskys.”
“Ah.” In the brief pause that follows, I can hear wind roaring and a strangled yowl that sounds like Chewbacca from Star Wars.
“Jesus, Mak. Where the fuck are you?”
“Somewhere I’m not supposed to be,” he says cheerfully. “Atop a sand dune, using a camel to shelter from a wind storm. Been a little occupied, or I’d have gotten back to you earlier. On the upside, I can safely assure you there’s nobody in earshot.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It’s been a riot. But the cocktail choices are limited, and I do like a good martini. Tomorrow too late for me to get to you?”
“Yesterday was too late. But I’ll take what I can get.”
“Done.” Mak pauses, but doesn’t hang up. “If you’ll allow me to give you some unwanted advice?”
I grunt assent.
“Hold off on throwing anything at that compound until we’ve had a chance to talk. I’ve learned a thing or two about Orlov over the years. Wouldn’t like to see your girls caught up in anything more unpleasant than they already are.”
“Be here tomorrow, and I won’t have to.”
“I’ll see you then.” He ends the call. I sit in silence for a few moments, aware that I’ve just taken a step into very murky territory. Mak might talk about owing me a favor, but the truth is that after this I will be in his debt. Deploying his mercenaries to fight North African coups is one thing. Using them to launch an attack in downtown Miami is quite another. Closely as he might work with the CIA and MI6, my favor will put Mak on the radar of domestic authorities, something I know he’s diligent about avoiding.
Then again, I have handed Mak a slice of Mercura, and that is no inconsiderable gift.
Beyond all that, I’ll pawn my own soul and count it a bargain if it means I get my girls back.
My phone lights up with a message from Dimitry:Get out here as soon as you finish that call.
He’s right outside the door when I open it. “You’re not going to fucking guess who I just spoke to.”
I brace myself. “Who?”