CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Benjamin
I shove my way through the crowd of people who have arrived to take care of Morgan as well as quarantine her in case the virus can be spread like the cold it was supposed to eradicate.
Maxim shouts my name and I head toward him, stopping just shy of him as he motions me closer.
“We have a lock on Farooq. He’s in London, south side. Shouldn’t be any trouble to get him to the lab,” Maxim all but whispers. He knows he shouldn’t share this information with me, but family is more binding than laws in times such as these.
I don’t allow relief to ease my pain. There will be no peace until Morgan is cured and the head of Wraith is dead.
God help this entire world should she die.
Dima joins us and I spare him a glance. “I will kill everyone responsible for this.”
“I can’t hear this.” Maxim holds up his good arm, as if to ward me away. “I’ll text you as soon as we have Farooq in place.”
Jaw working, I nod.
“You will not do it alone,” Dima says quietly.
“The organization will kill you for betraying them.”
My cousin smiles widely. “Let them try. I’m ready to retire.”
Pointing to a familiar black Mercedes by the curb, I ask, “That yours?”
“Ready and waiting.”
We get in.
Trusting Dima to follow the app’s tracking directions, I check my guns and count my bullets. The app stops beeping, then the view switches over to a detailed blueprint of the building where we’re stopped.
“He’s here and heading to the roof.” I glance at the name of the building. “Romanov Industries.”
“You don’t think it’s one of your brothers, do you?” Dima asks.
“Never say never.”
We begin the long trek up sixty-two flights of stairs.
“Why is it always the roof?” I grumble.
“Helipad, most likely, or he wants to do something very big.”
I grab his arm, stopping him from taking another step. “We can take the service elevator. No one ever thinks to take those.”
Dima rubs his jaw, considering my idea. “I’m in.”
I jerk open the door and we race to the service elevators. Pressing the up button, I pray that they are still in service. In less than a minute, the doors open and we step inside.
Music plays over the speakers, a jazzed-up version of a song about death and destruction, as I select the rooftop button. “Seems appropriate. Needs more cowbell.”
The doors close and the elevator gives a slight lurch to one side.
“Da. The bell of a cow would be helpful.”
I eye him for a moment, unsure if he really gets this popular American saying or not.
The door opens.
Once more, I step out first, checking the hallway. It’s deserted.
Dima points his gun at the ceiling and mouths, “I’ll take the lead”.
I nod and then start to follow, but when I feel the press of cold steel against the back of my neck, I freeze.
“Put the gun down.”
“David?”
“Who else were you expecting?” my former boss asks.
Shrugging, I say, “The queen.”
“—James Bond,” Dima quips.
“—Swimsuit models would have been just the thing.”
“Quiet, or I’ll send my men to St. Mary’s to check in on patient zero.” His voice booms, echoing in the hallway.
Dima and I lower our guns.
“Kick them over there.”
We do as he demands.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Now we get to see a show.”
“And your men?”
David prods me with the gun. “As long as you behave like good lads, you have nothing to worry about.”
“What are your plans with the virus?”
“As soon as Morgan confirms that the vaccine actually works, it will be a go for production. Thanks for helping me out.”
“You infected her in order to make sure the vaccine worked?” My fists clench at my sides.
“I don’t believe in testing on animals. It’s bloody cruel.” His mouth lifts into a smile. “But it wasn’t me.”
“Then who?” Morgan’s description can’t be entirely trusted, and I have no bloody idea what favor me means… unless—
A shot rings out.
I dive for cover, and Dima does the same.
David, however, falls forward.
“God. I thought he’d never shut up.” A man wearing a tailored suit steps over David’s body as though he were not even there. “You two. Come here.”
The man’s eyes are a mirror of mine.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up and my insides twist.
“Vladimir,” I whisper, unable to believe he’s still alive. I witnessed his death, participated in it as well. However, it was Grandfather who pulled the trigger—literally.
“In the flesh.” He turns to face me. “I believe you and I have a score to settle for that time you blew up my fucking yacht.”
“I believe you can go fuck yourself.”
Dima starts for him, his hand in his jacket. I shake my head. This battle is for me alone.
“Always was good at taking orders. Until tonight, that is.” Vladimir keeps his gun aimed at my chest.
“Why would you have him kill Tansy if you wanted to see how quickly the vaccine worked? We have a man searching for the two vials that are needed for replication.”
Vladimir’s face falters a little, but he quickly recovers. “Patient Zero has a ten-hour window. Surely, the men and women of MI6 can find a scientist hiding out in London.”
“You’re bloody mental.”
“Actually, I’m rather anxious to see how quickly the vaccine will work. Perhaps it will be possible to have tiered pricing based on how badly an infected patient wants to live. What do you think, boys?”
“I think you’re a sick fuck who won’t live to see another day.”
He shakes his head at me, disgust on his face. “Yet another son who isn’t fit to rule with me, but at least you’re here to challenge me. What in the hell did that English bitch do to my boys?”
His boys. As if he only has two and not four sons, but Koyla and I have always been considered expendable. “I have no interest in ever ruling with you.”
“That’s because you are short-sighted. The Romanovs need a visionary.
I run a hand through my hair. “Just tell me your plan so I can kill you.”
Vladimir sneers at me. “There is no plan.”
“How do you expect to make money?”
“By bankrupting PharmGen.”
Told you there was a plan. There is always a plan. “How?”
“When the world knows what they’ve created, shareholders will have no choice but to sell off quickly. Then I’ll swoop in, buy them for a song, and reorganize. The vaccine will be owned by me alone. The US and China will pay a premium to own even one-tenth of my supply.”
“That’s a plan,” Dima says. “A shitty, delusional one, but still a plan.”
I level Vladimir with a look. “You’re going to continue to market a vaccine that will not be needed once the virus has been eradicated.”
“The need will be there… for as long as I find it profitable.”
“Because you plan to put the virus in the vaccine, create a reverse chimera.” Fuck me sideways.
“Exactly.” He smiles, his lip pulling at the corner. “Dr. Clark performed such a miracle before his untimely death.”
“Brilliant, but I’m fucking tired of listening to you.” As I pull out the gun I hid in the waistband of my pants, Dima rushes Vladimir, sending his gun into the air.
Vladimir staggers back, but he brings down both hands onto my cousin’s back, sending him to the ground. Dima’s head smacks against a stone blockade near the helipad with a dull thud.
“Shit.” I run for him, sure Vladimir has another gun hidden somewhere, and start shooting. Sure enough, he pulls out another gun and starts firing back, but his aim is off. My bullets hit him dead center. Twice.
His eyes widen, a shade of blue identical to mine, as he falls back, and a horrible gurgling sound emanates from his throat.
A gust of wind seems to push him, but I grab him at the last second and dig my hand into his shirt pocket, retrieving the ring Morgan had put there.
“Thank you for holding on to this.”
He spits at me, but I don’t flinch. “You are nothing to me.”
“Great father-son talk.” I hit him in the jaw, whipping his head to one side. “Now, will you die for good this time?”
With a swift kick to the stomach, I send him over the edge of the building, watching as he falls, his arms and legs flailing about. His body crashes into Dima’s car, shattering the glass and smashing the roof.
“Never did like that car,” he says as he joins me, holding his head. Blood seeps from beneath his fingers.
“At least we know he’s dead this time.” But to be completely certain, I will shoot him again—in the morgue if I have to.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Dima asks.
“That I killed Vladimir?”
He nods.
“Not particularly.” He was never my father. Never took care of me. It was always Grandfather and Roman. “I felt nothing but contempt for him.”
“This is good. Not many men could do such a thing.”
“He was never my father. It was like shooting a stranger.” A stranger with a face so familiar, it was like looking into my future.
Dima looks at me, exhaling thickly. “Now what do we do?”
“Do whatever you like. You’ve earned a bloody holiday, but get your head checked first.” I start walking to the door that leads me to the elevators below. “As for me, I’m headed back to St. Mary’s to wait with Morgan.”