“Hello?”

“You have chosen to ignore my instructions.”

“No. I haven’t,” she responded.

“You have chosen the man over your own flesh and blood. No matter. They’ll both be gone soon enough.”

“Wait—” she pleaded, but knew it was too late. She’d already heard the beep indicating the call had been disconnected.

Gunner heard every word, confirming he’d been right about someone blackmailing her. What he didn’t know, and evidently neither did she, was what the person doing it wanted. That would not be the last call she received, of that he was certain.

What he also didn’t know yet, was what course of action they should take. Should he and Raketa proceed on their own for now, or loop K19 in?

Raketa’s eyes were focused on his, and in them, he saw pleading. He put his hands on her shoulders.

“What is the first thing you know about blackmail?”

She shook her head.

“Focus. What’s the first thing?”

She shook her head again.

“The blackmailer wants something.”

This time she nodded.

“Number two. Blackmailers will target your absolute weakness to get what they want.”

“Yes.”

She was starting to respond, and instead of despair, he watched the fight come back into her eyes.

“Let’s set that aside for a minute and talk about UR. I want you to think really hard about anything you might have on them that we could use to get them to let you go. Anything, Raketa.”

“There’s nothing,” she admitted.

“Keep digging in the recesses of your mind. There’s got to be something they want enough that they’ll let you go. Start thinking outside the box. What might UR want badly enough that either K19 or MI6 can orchestrate making sure they get it?”

For now, the assassination threat was more urgent than finding Petrov. Soon, he’d contact Doc and see if he’d come up with anything, but not until he was certain Raketa wasn’t going to pull away from him again.

“I know how hard this is for you,” he said, stroking his finger down her cheek.

She backed away from him. “It isn’t any different for you. You haven’t had to choose between anything.”

“I’m not following.”

“You make every decision based on what you think is best. You don’t consult me. In fact, you rarely consult your team. You lecture me to do something you would never do.”

“I don’t agree.”

She shook her head. “Of course you don’t. Here’s an example. You told me where my half-sisters are only after you had considered whether doing so would jeopardize their safety. You decided it wouldn’t, so you told me. If you say you don’t weigh everything you tell me first, you’re a liar.”

Of course he did. He wasn’t suggesting he didn’t. The point was that he wanted her to accept his help, which meant he was asking her to trust him enough to do so. He still knew she’d weigh each point of information on a need-to-know basis. Didn’t he?

“Put your mother’s life on the line, and then tell me, would you trust me to help you?”

Raketa walked down the hallway of the small house, looking for a room where she could be alone. For the time being, she had no way to get off this island, just like she’d had to wait for any opportunity to get off the other one. Once this, whatever it was, was over, she’d never set foot on another island again, particularly one where the only access on or off was by boat or plane.

She lay on the bed, trying to come up with anything that would get UR to let her go. Initially, she believed that K19, with the CIA’s backing, would have a strong enough position that they’d be able to negotiate a deal in exchange for them letting her go on their own. Obviously that wasn’t happening.

There had to be something UR wanted more than they wanted her dead, but what? What could she deliver that would allow them to save face over her “defection”? That’s what this was about. There wasn’t anything she had on them that would hurt their organization. Obviously UR, the CIA, MI6, and every other intelligence organization in the world executed assassinations when they were deemed necessary. Most, no one ever knew about, outside of the assassin and the person giving them the assignment.

Recently there had been press about former Russian agents living in the UK being poisoned. That was the fault of whoever had been hired to assassinate those agents. If they’d done their job correctly, the deaths would’ve looked far more accidental. Sure, there’d be plenty, particularly in MI6 who would’ve known the deaths were assassinations, but proving it to the point that it made the international news circuits would’ve been impossible.

“Orlov found Raketa,” Gunner told Doc.

“I heard. We’re sending Striker to the island now. Who else do you want?”

“I’ll tell you who I don’t want—Striker.”

“I know you don’t, but listen. If anyone can come up with something on UR, it’s him.”

“Where’s Shiv?”

“You may have forgotten that MI6 doesn’t report to me.”

“Are you telling me you don’t know his twenty?”

“Sorry. Rough night last night. Laird is teething, or going through something else that makes babies turn into screaming banshees.”

“Uh, sorry to, uh, hear that.” What the hell? Did he really have to hear about Doc’s baby? All he wanted to know was where Shiv was. Maybe he should just hang up and call him.

“He’s here. Hang on.”

Gunner ran his hand through his hair, pulling at the roots as he did. What happened to the group of badass special ops guys he’d known and worked with for the last few years of his life? Had they all turned into baby-making pussies?

“Gunner.”

“Hey, Shiv. Sorry about being such a prick before.”

“Enough said. I was giving you a rough time when that’s the last thing you needed.”

“Appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Pimm told you Orlov found Raketa.”

“Who the hell do you think authorized the chopper?”

“Seriously, Shiv? I just apologized.”

“Sorry, I was here last night too. I should’ve left at three in the morning when the little wanker woke me up for the twentieth time. What can I do for you, Gunner?”

“I want Orlov called off, which means I need something big to negotiate with.”

Shiver didn’t respond, which worried him.

“No,” he finally said.

“No, what? No to getting Orlov called off?”

“No, to who you want to use to negotiate with them.”

“I’m not following.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Gunner.”

“Shiver, I’m not. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“She’s hands off.”

Gunner’s mind raced. Who did Shiver think Gunner was suggesting?

“Not that you could find her.”

Gunner decided to see if he could push Shiv into telling him who she was. “Who says she’s hands off?”

“I do.”

“Give me something more here, Shiv. Why?”

“Because I said so.”

There is only one reason that Shiver wouldn’t tell him who he was talking about, and that’s because it was personal.

“There’s gotta be someone else, Shiv. Help me out here.”

“If I find out you’ve pursued this, I’ll hunt you down and cut the skin from your body inch-by-inch.”

“Jesus, Whittaker. Enough.”

Gunner hung up, unsure of his next move. Shiv was so caught up in whoever it was he was protecting, the conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey, man,” said Razor. “I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah? What for?”

“You first.”

“I just had the strangest conversation with Shiv. We were talking about trying to get UR to give up on Raketa, and he suddenly goes off on how the answer was no to the person I wanted to use to negotiate with them.”

“Ah, you played the Kuznetsov card.”

“I didn’t. And I wish to hell you hadn’t given me the name.”

“Then why’d you call me?”

Razor had a point. He did call to see if his friend had any insight. “You’re right. But now that I know she’s hands off, I need another name. Got one?”

“Not right off the top of my head, but I’ll think on it.”

“Who’s Kuznetsov to Shiv, anyway?”

“You don’t want to go there, my friend.”

“Understood. Now, why were you going to call me?”

“I heard about Orlov.”

“Yeah, that’s why the need to get UR called off has risen to priority number one.”

“You need me?”

Gunner was almost speechless. He knew the last thing Razor would want to do was to leave Ava, particularly given the Petrov threat was a priority too, not to mention, she was pregnant.

“I’m good, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the offer.”

“I know the reason Ivashov got off the island was because Doc called you for backup instead of me.”

“Flip of a coin.”

“It wasn’t, and you know it.”

Gunner prayed that he, Raketa, or someone else came up with another name because for now, Kuznetsov was the only one he had. Knowing handing her over would result in Raketa’s life being spared was like looking to make a deal with the devil.

If he pursued this, he and Shiv would be adversaries, both protecting someone they loved.

Marquess Thorton “Shiver” Whittaker was like a brother to him. Maybe now he understood what Raketa meant more than he’d wanted to admit earlier.

She came out of the bedroom, and they stood face-to-face.

“I can’t come up with anything.”

Gunner pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. “We’ll keep trying.” All the while, one name, Kuznetsov, continued to echo in his head.

Gunner was quiet all night, even when Pimm brought them food. Something was on his mind, and whatever it was, was eating away at him.

“Striker should be here within the hour,” said Pimm, standing to leave.

“Fuck,” Gunner muttered. “I forgot he was on his way.”

Raketa knew he didn’t like Striker, but that he’d forgotten he was coming added to the mystery of what was on his mind.

“If I was doing what you’re doing, you’d tell me to talk to you.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Something is troubling you.”

Gunner rubbed his shoulder. “It’s a damn long list, sweetheart.”

“Something specific.”

Gunner shook his head, but even that was a lie. Raketa went back to the room she’d been in and slammed the door behind her.

More telling than anything, Gunner didn’t come after her.

Striker came inside without knocking and threw his bag on the floor. “I’m here. Let’s get to work.”

Gunner thought long and hard about what the consequences would be if he took out his gun and shot Striker.

“You don’t call the shots,” he said instead of killing him.

“For Christ’s sake, Paps. Stop with the power trip and tell me why I’m here.”

Before he knew he was coming, Gunner had his hand around Striker’s throat, and his body slammed up against the wall.

“Gunner?” he heard Raketa say from behind him.

“Never. Call. Me. That,” he seethed under his breath. “Do you understand me?”

Striker didn’t respond, but Gunner released him anyway.

Raketa stepped forward and put her hand on Gunner’s arm. Surprisingly, his first instinct wasn’t to pull away from her.

She slid her fingers down his arm until her hand was in his, and led him over to the sofa.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked Striker, who was rubbing his neck.

“A good stiff drink would be nice.”

Raketa walked over to the refrigerator and smiled when she saw a bottle of vodka in the freezer. She got three glasses out of the cupboard and brought them to the table near the sofa where Gunner was seated.

She poured all three. “To freedom,” she said, meeting both Gunner and Striker’s eyes before throwing the shot back. Both men drank. Raketa sat down next to Gunner, and Striker sat in a chair close enough to the table that he could still reach the bottle of vodka.

“You’re here to help us figure out how to get UR to let me go without killing me.”

Striker poured another glass of vodka, hesitating a moment before pouring another for her and Gunner.

Gunner looked at Striker like he wanted to kill him.

Raketa leaned back and sat close enough to Gunner that their bodies touched.

“My understanding is that Doc has been working his contacts on your behalf.”

“Do you think you’d be here if he’d been successful, you asshole?”

Raketa almost laughed. “As Gunner said, he hasn’t gotten anywhere.”

He sat there, saying nothing, all the while he had the answer that would save Raketa’s life and get Striker the hell out of there because he’d no longer be needed. He felt the bile from the shot rise in his throat and thought for a minute he’d be sick.

He hadn’t had time to look into who Kuznetsov was, but did it matter? Shiv had made it clear that using her as a bargaining chip was out of the question.

If the situations were reversed, would Shiver allow this woman to face assassination when he knew Raketa could be offered in trade? It was a question he couldn’t answer, because he didn’t want to.

There were lines that could never be crossed, and at the top was betraying your teammate. While they’d worked for different organizations the entire time Gunner had known Shiv, they were still brothers in arms.

Gunner studied the woman sitting next to him. Still, every time he saw her, she took his breath away. Now that he knew how it felt to hold her in his arms, how could he not do everything in his power to save her life?

He moved his arm so it wrapped her shoulders, and breathed in the scent of her.

“Is he drunk?” he heard Striker say, giving him one more reason to kill him.

“It’s been a very, very long day,” Raketa answered. “We should get some rest. There’s nothing that can be done tonight.”

Striker stood. “Where’s my bunk?”

Gunner watched as Raketa led him down the hallway, wondering if she’d just go to bed too. He almost wished she would.

He didn’t know if he could talk to her. No matter what he said, the words would drip with the agony he was feeling, knowing he held the answer she sought, but was powerless to give it to her.

“Let’s call it a night,” she said, walking back to the sofa and holding her hand out to him.

“Go ahead, I’ll stay out here for a bit.” He brought her hand to his lips. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No, Gunner. There are two beds in this house, and I refuse to sleep with Striker.”

“Damn right, you won’t,” he said, pouring another shot in his glass and throwing it back.

“If you keep going at that rate, you’ll be drunk, and I know you’ll regret it. If not in the morning, one day you will.”

Gunner looked into the eyes of the woman who held his heart. He couldn’t sleep next to her, let alone make love to her sweet body, knowing what he did. He could hardly stand to look at her with the guilt he felt.

“I’m going for a walk,” he said, pulling away from her. He went outside and slammed the door behind him.

Never before had he faced a situation like this one. There were good guys and bad guys. Choosing right over wrong was easy. The only time that had come close was when he had to choose Doc’s life over Lena’s, and even then, the decision had been made for him. In that instance, Lena was evil.

Who was evil in this case? Was Raketa any more or less so than Kuznetsov? He had no idea why UR would want the other woman over her, but either way, there was no way to define either of them as purely good or evil.

When she’d asked him what he’d do if he was forced to choose between her and his mother, he didn’t give it any thought. There would never be a time he’d have to.

But now, he was forced to choose between her and his loyalty to Shiver. It wasn’t much different than her hypothetical.

Gunner sat on a bench by the water and leaned forward with his arms on his knees. Sitting that way did nothing to assuage the pain in his gut.

Unless they could come up with someone else UR wanted more than Kuznetsov, Raketa would be running from them for the rest of her life, and Gunner wasn’t sure he could promise that he’d be able to keep her safe.

He heard the door open and close behind him, knowing Raketa was coming to him and wishing it were Striker instead, no matter how much he hated him.

She walked around him, pushed his shoulders back, and sat on his lap.

“Talk to me, Gunner Man. Let me help you.”

He almost smiled at her using his words back at him, but the pain he felt was too great.

“I can’t,” he said, wishing he could take the words back as soon as he’d said them.

Raketa brought her lips to his and forced her tongue into Gunner’s mouth. She circled her arms around his neck and held tight. The only time she’d seen him in this much pain was when he’d been forced to kill Lena.

She’d refused to take no for an answer that night, and she wouldn’t tonight either. She loved him too much to let him deal with his suffering alone, in the same way he wouldn’t have been able to let her.

When she pulled back and looked into his eyes, the pain she saw there broke her heart.

“When I got the first phone call, the person used my name, Zaryana. They went on to tell me that if I wanted to see my mother again, I could tell no one about the call or about the instructions I would receive. If I did, she’d die.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t get another call until earlier, and you heard the same words I did. Wait, that isn’t true. There was another call, but I didn’t answer. It was right before I left the room, when Orlov shot at me.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because the only way I know to get you to trust me enough to tell me what’s going on, is to trust you first.”

“Jesus,” she heard him say as he buried his head in her shoulder. She felt his body shake as the dampness of his tears seeped into her sweater.

His arms around her waist tightened as he clung to her and cried. “I don’t know what to do,” she heard him whisper.

“Tell me, Gunner. What is causing you such pain?”

“I have a name.”

Raketa took another deep breath. “Who?”

This was the ultimate test. Would he tell her? If he didn’t, she would walk away from him and never look back.

“Kuznetsov.”