The airfield was just outside Moscow. That meant going through a roadblock staffed by a mixture of police and Ralavich’s men. I grabbed Luka’s hand as our taxi drew close. I was pretty sure I wasn’t recognizable in the wig and make-up, but Luka still looked pretty much like himself.
“It’ll be fine,” said Luka, not very convincingly. He fingered the handgun under his jacket. I counted four armed men at the roadblock. If it came to a shootout, I knew we’d last a few seconds, at most.
As we neared the roadblock, I suddenly threw myself on top of Luka, straddling him. His knees pushed the hem of my dress up a little.
“What—” he started
“Shut up and kiss me,” I said. And kissed him hard and deep, trying to keep my head between his face and the window.
His hands came up to grab my ass, then slid up to my waist. His tongue danced with mine, my own desperate, scared pants mixing with his.
The cab driver muttered something about us paying extra.
We stopped again. I kept my eyes tight closed, but I knew we must be at the roadblock. Right outside the window, they’d be watching us, comparing us to the descriptions they’d been given. I kissed Luka frantically, grinding on his lap, praying it would be enough to distract them.
There was a knock on the window. Shit! I could feel the eyes of the men outside.
I broke the kiss for a second. “Pull my dress down,” I panted frantically into his ear, keeping my eyes closed.
Luka hesitated. He could feel them staring at us, too.
“Do it right now,” I panted, “Or we’re both dead.”
He yanked the shoulder straps of my dress down, taking my bra with it. My breasts spilled out, throbbing in the freezing air. I bucked and ground against him, feeling the men’s eyes on my naked chest—
Someone knocked twice on the roof of the cab and the driver pulled away. I waited a few seconds to be sure, then climbed off Luka and slumped breathlessly beside him. I could feel the driver watching me in his rear view mirror and quickly pulled my dress up. We drove on down the road, the roadblock receding behind us.
“Tease,” panted Luka, his eyes gleaming.
***
By the time we reached the airfield, it was snowing again, thick flakes reducing visibility down to just a few car lengths. Perfect for what we needed to do.
We got the cab driver to drop us near the perimeter fence and watched as the cab’s tail lights disappeared into the blizzard. We were miles from anywhere—if this went wrong, we had no way back to the city. But if this went wrong, we were going to be dead anyway.
Security was a lot laxer than at a big commercial airport. We found a place where the fence was rusted and Luka tore the metal strands apart. Luka’s private jet was sitting on the runway, just visible through the snow. Most likely, the tower wouldn’t give them clearance to take off until the blizzard died down. Two black SUVs were parked nearby. I could see Ralavich’s bodyguards, too—four of them. They were probably meant to be patrolling, or spaced out around the jet keeping watch until it could depart. But they didn’t have Yuri’s loyalty or resolve. Two of them were huddled against the SUV, trying to stay out of the wind, while the other two had given up completely and were sitting inside it, smoking. There was no sign of Olaf or Adam, which meant they had to already be on board.
Luka took out his phone and dialed a number, then spoke quietly in Russian. He spoke slowly and earnestly. Asking for help, but not demanding that the pilot risk his life. At last, he nodded and solemnly gave his thanks. Then he nodded to me. It was on.
We crept through the snow. I was grimly aware of how completely unprepared I was. I was in a dress and heels, for God’s sake, the padded coat already plastered with snow. I didn’t have a gun. I barely remembered my unarmed combat training.
But there was no way on earth I was letting my man go in there alone.
When we were thirty feet from the jet, the pilot lowered the rear cargo door. We crept inside the tiny hold and Luka called the pilot again. Seconds later, the door closed, plunging us into darkness.
“Stay behind me,” whispered Luka. “And whatever happens...I love you.”
I clung to him for a second. And then the plane began to move.
From the passenger cabin, we could hear shouts of anger and alarm. Answering shouts from the bodyguards outside. Running footsteps. They couldn’t understand why the plane was taxiing for take-off without them aboard.
Luka took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the cabin.
Olaf and Adam were the only people inside and both of them were staring at the runway as it flashed past outside the open passenger door. The steps were scraping along the ground, sparks flying. “Hey!” Olaf was shouting towards the cockpit, “What the fuck are you doing?!”
Just a few feet from me, Adam had his laptop out and—my heart leapt—he was checking his bank accounts on the screen. Routing numbers. Amounts. Everything he’d been paid by Ralavich for helping him over the years. It was exactly the evidence I needed; all I had to do was get that laptop back to the CIA.
He looked round and saw us. His strangled cry alerted Olaf, who turned...to find Luka pointing a gun at him.
“My father’s going to live,” Luka told him. “And we’re going to take back everything you stole from us.” I saw his finger tighten on the trigger.
Adam suddenly yelled and jumped forward. Luka turned but didn’t shoot—he knew that Adam had to go back to America alive if I was to clear my name.
Adam hurled his laptop. Luka awkwardly deflected it, but it opened him up for Olaf to charge at him, knocking him to the floor. The laptop landed on one of the plush leather chairs by the door.
Olaf straddled Luka, punching him in the face and trying to pry the gun out of his fingers. I winced—and then Adam grabbed hold of me around my waist. I thrashed and struggled but he was a lot stronger than I was, dragging me towards the open door. We were almost at take-off speed, now, the runway whipping past outside and the jet engines deafening. “Stop!” he yelled. “Or I throw her out the door!”
Luka froze and then went limp. Olaf pried the gun from his fingers and stood up, pointing it at him.
No!
Adam’s arms were like a steel band around my waist. All I had were my arms, and I didn’t have anything I could use as a weapon.
Then I saw the laptop, still sitting on the leather chair next to the door. The evidence I so badly needed.
As Olaf leveled the gun at Luka, I stretched forward and grabbed the laptop. Adam leaned instinctively back out of the way, so that I couldn’t hit him. And Olaf was staring at me. If I threw it at him, he’d see it coming.
But there was one thing I could do with it. One thing that might save us...or kill us all.
I twisted as hard as I could, managing to turn Adam around as well. I was now right in the open doorway, the freezing wind scouring my face, the roar of the engines pounding my ears. The runway was just a blur.
I threw the laptop into the jet engine and watched as it was sucked inside. The whole plane trembled for a split-second and then the engine exploded into a million jagged pieces.
The blast hurled Adam and I back inside and across the cabin. The whole plane slewed to one side. As I’d hoped, none of us could keep our feet. Olaf went staggering into Luka, who grabbed the gun and pushed him away.
Olaf stumbled backward and made a grab for me, perhaps intending to throw me out of the door. Before he could, four wet, red flowers erupted on his white shirt. He looked down in disbelief...and fell backwards out of the door, his body bouncing as it hit the runway.
Adam was still reeling from the explosion. Luka grabbed the front of his shirt, then punched him just once with the other hand. He dropped to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut.
The plane started to slow. Through the open door, I could see the SUVs finally catching up with us. The bodyguards inside were wide-eyed in panic. They’d just seen their boss’s body hurled out of a plane and, unlike Yuri, they weren’t thinking about honor and vengeance; they were thinking that they’d backed the wrong side. Luka approached the door, gun raised. As soon as they saw he was still alive, the drivers stamped on the brakes, turned and drove away as fast as they could.
The jet finally stopped. The pilot unlocked the door from the cockpit and tentatively looked out. He looked at me, then at the groaning Adam on the floor, then finally at Luka. “Are things back to normal, sir?” he asked.
Luka drew in a long breath. “Yes, captain. Thank you for your help.”
Adam spat a tooth across the cockpit. “You can’t prove shit,” he panted. “It was all on that laptop.”
I slumped down into one of the leather chairs. “You know, I always thought it was Roberta who underestimated me,” I told him. “But the whole time, it was you. Don’t you remember anything about me?”