Page 62 of The Primary Pest
“All right.” Ajax didn’t even try to argue. He’d seen the bright spark of joy that burst in Dmytro’s eyes when he saw his daughters’ contact images. It warmed Ajax too. “Say hello for me.”
Dmytro didn’t hear him, or he didn’t acknowledge he’d heard. He left the cabin without looking back.
Ajax lay against the pillows and sighed heavily. There was nothing to argue about. Dmytro would either come to see the possibilities they had, or he wouldn’t.
But possibilities were also Ajax’s superpower.
Ajax saw a hundred moves ahead. While he knew his heart, knew what he wanted, and would go for it with all the force of his being, he’d learned early on that he couldn’t do that with people. He had to let them figure out what was best for them, and if it wasn’t what he wanted? He had to be okay with that and let them go.
If Dmytro didn’t like what was growing between them—if he didn’t want it or couldn’t find a way to make it work—then Ajax would walk away. He was finished with trying to force things that didn’t fit, with being outrageous, with schemes and plans. If Dmytro reached for him, he would be there—for Dmytro and for his girls. If Dmytro didn’t want him…
Ajax had to learn to like himself when he wasby himself, so maybe it was for the best.
Seconds after he left, Dmytro returned to the cabin with both hands in the air.
Ajax had only a confused moment to realize Peter held a gun to Dmytro’s head.
Topside, there was a singlecrackof gunfire, a shout, and a splash.
“Chet?” Peter called toward the stairs. “Mission accomplished?”
“Yessir.” Chet thudded down the stairs and stood in the cabin’s doorway behind Peter.
What the hell was that?
Bartosz?
Dmytro met Ajax’s gaze. His agonized expression broke Ajax’s heart.
“Get us underway, Chet,” Peter ordered. “We have a rendezvous in fifteen minutes.”
“Aye, aye, Skipper.”
Peter motioned for Dmytro to cross the cabin and sit beside Ajax. Noisy engines fired up with a roar, and the boat gave a sick-making lurch.
“Was that… Did they just kill Bartosz?” Ajax asked Dmytro.
Dmytro didn’t answer, but from his face, the news was probably bad.
Peter grinned again.Wolflike. Ajax had always associated the name Peter with Prokofiev’s,Peter and the Wolf.Now he knewPeterhad been the wolfall along.
“Now that we have your full attention, Dmytro Kolisnychenko, and yours, Mr. Fairchild, I trust you two won’t do anything further to fuck up my plans?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dmytro
Now Dmytro shookwith an altogether different emotion: rage.
Peter wasIphicles. He’d been with Iphicles before Dmytro had come on board. Chet too, though Dmytro had only met the man once or twice before. He’d never met the rest of the crew.
Why, oh, why hadn’t he asked about them? Vetted them thoroughly? Run photo IDs and credentials through Zhenya, on the off chance they weren’t who they said they were?
Why? Because he’d trusted Peter, known him since he’d taken a job with Iphicles. He’d been talking on the phone with his girls when Peter jammed a gun in his face. Chet stood by, grinning like a fool. They’d disarmed him, and Peter herded him down the stairs while Chet took his weapon and his phone up to the deck. Chet might have even used Dmytro’s gun to kill Bartosz. The thought sickened him, made him feel like the world’s biggest fool.
Peter carried a Beretta Cx4 Storm, a Beretta handgun, and a hunting knife. Chet had a Glock G40 10mm and an ankle rig. That was a lot of firepower in shaky hands.
Bartosz… Dear God, Bartosz was gone, and Zhenya was none the wiser.
