Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Angel?” Soren said cautiously, and Alexei was suddenly grateful the cat burglar hadn’t used his real name. A feeling was creeping over him, something his uncle had taught him over the years was sending off pinpricks of anxiety across his skin.
“Stay close to me. Don’t let go,” Alexei murmured, switching from English to French.
As soon as the pair were a few yards away, the woman reached into the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper that Alexei could clearly see was a map of Paris. Oh Lord. This old bit? They couldn’t have come up with something more interesting or convincing than this?
“Parlez-vous anglais?” the man inquired in very badly accented French. It was horrible enough that Alexei’s entire body twitched.
“Yes,” he replied, forcing a closed-lipped smile so they couldn’t see him clenching his teeth.
“Oh, good!” The woman gave a big sigh of relief. “We popped over from Ohio to see the sights. We’re trying to get to the Arc de Triomphe from here, but we’re unsure of where it is on the map and how to get there.” She held the map out in front of her with both hands as if she were expecting him to lean in and start pointing on the map.
The signs were so clear now that they were speaking English. Their accents were good. Mostly American, except for the fact that Americans rarely popped to a place. They drank pop and popped pills, but the British liked to pop places and sip tea.
There was also something in their vowels that sounded so damn familiar. Like Uncle Gabriel familiar.
“Nicolai Krestyanov is dead. You need a new schtick,” Alexei replied in English.
Both the man and woman froze for a couple of heartbeats. They didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. His guess was right, and he so wished it wasn’t.
“Nicolai who? We don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said in a slow, halting manner. He sounded like he was trying to laugh it off, but it wasn’t working.
“Yeah, then I guess you just need to move along.”
“But the map—” the woman started.
If she seriously thought that he was going to take even one step closer to her, she was out of her fucking mind.
Alexei snagged the small knife hidden in a sheath on his waist and held it in his right fist. Soren let out a sharp hiss of air.
“Angel?”
“I will shank you both and leave you bleeding where plenty of other French plebs spilled their blood. They will still never catch me,” he snarled. “Now move along or join the dead.”
The man and woman exchanged a look for only a second, but he was hoping they were agreeing to drop the act. He was done with it, personally.
“We always thought you’d resurface again,” the man replied in Russian. The words sent a shiver down Alexei’s spine. He’d spoken a mix of Russian and French with his mother after they’d moved to France. While living with his uncles, it had been mostly English, but sometimes when he was alone with his Uncle Gabriel and missing his mother, he’d slip into Russian. Something familiar like pulling on an old, worn shoe.
But now, after all this time, it was like being splashed with ice water on a hot summer day.
Or worse, having all the years of freedom away from Russia erased with a couple of sentences.
He wanted them both gone in the worst way, but he had to know what they wanted.
“We are not associated with the Krestyanov family—” the woman started but Alexei made a scoffing noise, cutting her off.
“Yeah, but you’re still running his ploys and reciting from his scripts.” He shook his head. “Did you seriously think Viktor wouldn’t train me properly? Did you think I wouldn’t make you the second I saw you?”
“Then you can guess as to what we want. Give us the hard drive, and we’ll let you walk away.”
Alexei cackled wildly, and Soren’s fingers tightened, reminding him that the thief was still here. He needed to get Soren to safety. Not the easiest thing when all he wanted to do was to kill both of these SVR agents and find the others who were hiding throughout the city.
“I’m sorry, you’ve misunderstood me. I’m giving you this one chance to walk away now. Actually, it would probably be better if you ran. If you stay, I’m killing you both. The KGB represents all that is evil in the world. You were nothing better than a hit squad for my homophobic grandfather and uncle. You and all the remaining Krestyanovs need to die, so you can’t hurt anyone else.”
“We’re not leaving here without the hard drive,” the dark-haired woman snarled.
His fingers tightened around the knife in his hand. “Then you’re not leaving here.”
“Angel, down!” Soren suddenly shouted.