Page 66 of Call Sign: King
“Of course,” Ryder’s lie fell easily from his lips. The stakes were way too high to go in without his whole team backing him up.
“I’ll pick you up,” Alexi offered.
Despite all that was on the line, Ryder forced a chuckle. “You still drive like shit?”
The sound of Alexi’s own laughter soothed Ryder’s anxiety slightly. He knew this man well. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that meant Alexi would be loyal to Ryder over his own family, but it did mean Ryder knew how to read him — to anticipate his next move.
“Remember where I picked you up that last night?” Alexi asked, careful not to name the location out loud in case his car was bugged.
“Da,” Ryder replied.
“Midnight.”
The call dropped.
Opening his eyes, he saw every person in the room watching him expectantly.
“We have three hours to come up with our plan and get into place.”
Torch said what he suspected many of his men were thinking. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do,” Ryder said, knowing that if he was wrong, it would be Khloe who paid the ultimate price for his mistake.
Chapter Twenty
KHLOE
How many hours had passed since her arrival in hell? With no clock or watch — no windows — it was impossible to know for sure, but her body told her it had been too long.
The two hostages had barely spoken in their time chained next to each other. Khloe had tried to engage Irena in hopes of learning something that might help aid in her own rescue, but the distraught woman had been crying off and on since the old woman had left them there. Two armed guards stood near the door, glaring at the women on the stage, and made it difficult to engage her for help.
Past exhaustion, she’d lost track of how many times her legs had given out beneath her, yanking her body down until the metal manacles at her wrists bit into her skin. She had no feeling left in her raised hands and drops of blood streaked down her forearm, leaving a dry trail behind. Even making sure several drops had fallen to the floor was of little comfort. Even Ryder’s top-notch mercenaries wouldn’t be able to follow her trail of DNA inside this fortress.
“Excuse me,” she said, this time trying to engage her captors. “Can you please just lower me enough so that I can sit on the floor?”
Silence.
“I haven’t had even a drink of water since leaving Toronto. Can I get a small glass of water or something to eat?” She tried again.
“They will not help you,” Irena finally spoke. The woman’s anger seemed to have dissipated, leaving only defeat in its wake.
Before Khloe could think of something to say, Irena added, “Are you really Khloe Monroe?”
How fucked up was it that even chained in the bowels of a Russian criminal compound she was still recognized?
“Yes… unfortunately.”
“I admit… I’m confused… about a lot of things… not the least of which is why Vlad and Yana have dragged you into our little family saga.”
“They seem to think I mean something to a man named Nicolai. He is the head of my security detail.”
“Nicolai Romanovski?” Irena asked, her voice an octave higher in surprise.
“I guess. That’s not the name he gave to me,” she said truthfully. “They are blaming him for ruining their family.”
Irena’s voice cracked with fresh emotion. “I’ve given thanks to Nicolai every day since I thought he’d killed my husband.”
“You were happy he killed your husband?”
