Page 64 of Power Surge

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Madam President, you owe me a favor, and I am calling that in now. I need you in Moscow as soon as possible. It is a matter of life and death.”

The top of my head burns with the scalding stares from both men. They wave their hands in front of my face, grip my chin, anything to get me to look up.

I’ve promised Trey I wouldn’t make any rash decisions, not when it put my life in the crosshairs and others’ too, but this is different. This is Vlad, and he’s right, I do owe him a favor. When I asked him to look into Trey’s family, I sealed myself to this agreement between us. And now it’s time to pay up.

“Okay.” The two men shout curses as they leap off the table to pace the room. “Moscow. It’ll be hard as hell convincing everyone that this trip needs to happen, but I do owe you.” I dare a peek through my lashes and immediately regret it. Trey’s fury-laced glare might burn me alive right here in this dining room chair. “I’ll let you know when to expect me.”

“Thank you. And Randi?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget your coat.”

* * *

“Coat?” I grumble as I bury my face deeper into the thick scarf tucked into the collar of my navy peacoat. “Fucking Vlad. I need a damn parka.”

“That’s your penance for agreeing to this trip before consulting with us,” Trey says out of the corner of his mouth as we continue toward Vlad’s home—or should I say estate—in Moscow. Surrounded by agents, our strides mirror the others to not cause another to stumble. It was difficult to keep the cadence at first, but now after so many outings being engulfed in an agent cocoon, I’ve finally gotten it down.

The agent in front of me grunts as the sharp point of my pump stabs into his Achilles’ heel.

Okay, maybe I’m still working on it.

The ten-foot double doors swing open in greeting as we approach. Several armed men pour out of them. Trey, T, and the other guys tense at the sudden swarm, the show of force. The agents stop short. My nose nails the back of Agent Smith at the sudden halt.

Tensions rise as my agents and half of the Russian military standoff, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

A voice I recognize bellows in Russian from inside the estate. A corner of my lips tugs upward as Vlad appears, still shouting, no doubt chastising these men for the rude welcome.

“Madam President,” he states at the top of the stairs, looking down to where we stand two steps below. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

The end of my red nail digs into Smith’s back, urging him into action. But his feet stay planted. Hell, his upper body doesn’t even shift with my insistent single finger shove.

“I think your welcoming party made my team a little anxious,” I shout over Smith’s shoulder. A low grumble resounds from my right, but I ignore Trey’s obvious displeasure. “Care to call them back so maybe we can have that discussion inside where it’s hopefully warmer?”

“Warmer?” Vlad laughs. “It is a beautiful day.”

The cold gray October skies and whipping wind beg to differ, but to each their own, I guess.

With a sigh, Vlad turns, putting his back to us to face his men. With a few sharp words, the men fall back inside the house without a single glance back.

A collective breath releases from the agents surrounding me. Smith’s shoulders drop three inches, but his hands twitch at his side like he’s a hairbreadth away from drawing his gun.

“Okay, guys, let’s get inside before I freeze to death.”

This time Smith advances with my less than gentle shove.

At the top of the stairs, Vlad greets me with a kiss to each cheek.

“So I’m here. What’s the favor?” I’ll be honest, my curiosity hasn’t stopped since we hung up last week. “I’ll go ahead and put this out there: no, you cannot borrow a submarine or a carrier. I know we’re friends, but we’re not at that level yet.”

Vlad smiles, deep crescent-shaped lines forming around his spread lips. “And what level of friends are we, Madam President?”

“The kind where I don’t shoot you, you don’t shoot me, and we occasionally do supersecret favors for the other.”

---