SEVENTEEN
I remained inside the elevator. I turned away from the open door and the yawning cavern of darkness it had revealed and faced her.
“Where are we?”
“The theater level.”
The space looked completely deserted, dark except for a few scattered security lights that cast an eerie red glow.
Ignoring everything that told me we shouldn’t be here, Alex exited the elevator, leaving me still standing inside wondering what to do next.
Alex reached back and pulled me by the hand. “Come on.”
Nothing about this felt right.
Maybe if I didn’t suspect her, then yeah, fine, I’d be all over doing the nasty in the deserted theater while the party goers continued unaware floors above us.
But given what I knew from Zane, this felt more like a good place to be murdered than a place for getting naughty.
Zane.
I realized I wasn’t alone. I could tell him where I was if the comm worked all the way down here. Did it?
I decided to find out. “This T-Level you brought us down to is pretty deep underground. I mean we’re two floors beneath the main lobby level. I wonder if there’s even any cell signal all the way down here.”
I threw as many hints in Zane’s direction as I thought I could get away with.
“I copy.” For once, Zane’s voice in my ear was welcome, until Alex narrowed her eyes and glared at me.
She held out her hand palm up. “You can just hand over that comm right now.”
My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
What the hell? How did she know? And who the hell was she that she was talking more like one of Zane’s covert operatives than a college student or a volunteer?
“That communicator in your ear. I figure you got it from your friend Zane Alexander. It looks like something a SEAL turned mercenary would use.”
“Fu—why does everyone think I’m a fucking mercenary?” Zane’s voice came through loud and annoyed.
He was bothered by that?
How about the fact I was alone and in a very precarious situation with a woman who was starting to scare me and was now about to take my communicator so I’d be cut off from my only support?
“Zane’s just a friend. We went to school together . . . and he’s not a mercenary.” I threw him that bone, hoping he’d be satisfied and concentrate on getting me out of this situation instead of obsessing over semantics.
“Maybe. Maybe not. But that still leaves the question of who you are and who you’re working for.” Apparently tired of waiting for me to turn over the comm, Alex took a step closer. “Give it or I’ll take it.”
I was starting to get pissed.
Who could blame me? This was turning into the worst date of my life.
I’d probably end up dead and buried beneath the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Sculpture Garden if the hate-filled glare Alex had leveled on me was any indication, but I didn’t give in.
Folding my arms across my chest, I said, “No.”
“Fine, have it your way.”
A step, a reach, a twist and the next thing I knew I was flat on my back with the wind knocked out of me, gasping for breath as Alex straddled me.
She poked a finger into my ear none too gently. With satisfaction she held up the comm, peering at in by the glow of the exit sign.
“It is a nice piece of equipment, I’ll admit. Too bad I have to do this.”
Still sitting on me, she took off one shoe, put the comm on the floor and smashed it.
I watched in shock, unable to stop her. “What are you doing?”
“Disabling your means of communication with your friend.” With the deadly looking heel still clutched in her hand and poised above my eye, she said, “Tell me who you work for and what your assignment is.”
She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. Could she? Kill me with a high heel?
Was it even possible? Even if I didn’t die, I had no doubt she could blind me with that thing.
Did her wielding the heel at me mean she didn’t have another weapon? Did she not have a gun on her?
That thought made me brave and I said, “How about you tell me who you work for.”
She lifted a brow and I wondered if my bravado had impressed her or if she was just thinking I was an idiot who deserved to die.
The sound of the elevator rumbling to a stop and the door opening sent both of our heads swiveling in that direction.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried when a man stepped off the elevator, gun first.
“Another one?” She sighed. “Who the fuck are you?”
It was my turn to wonder if she was brave or stupid. After all, she was the one bringing a shoe to a gunfight.
“I do fancy hearing a naughty word from the lips of a beautiful female now and again. Don’t you, Brent?”
The man with the accent that made him sound like British royalty knew my name?
I answered his question, though chances were good it had been purely rhetorical. “Yes. Usually.”
He had to be my backup, but where the hell had Zane found this guy?
In an obviously bespoke suit that fit him like a glove and with a face that was made for modeling, he looked more as if he’d stepped out of GQ Magazine than the GI ranks . . .Well, except for the gun, of course.
I didn’t know who he was but boy was I glad to see him and his gun.
“MI6?” Alex asked.
I frowned at her question to the man. MI6? Like James Bond?
The stranger smiled. “That obvious?”
“Sorry to blow up your delusions, but yeah. It is.” She shrugged.
How come I seemed to be the only one in the dark here? Feeling clueless was getting annoying. And how was Alex so calm with a gun pointed at her?
“Now, let me guess what you are, Alexandra. I’d put money on KGB, if I were a betting man.”
“KGB?” To my horror, my voice squeaked.
She laughed still looking at him while sitting on me. “Your age is showing. The KGB was replaced by the FSB in 1991.”
I noted she never denied his accusation. But she also didn’t confirm it. How stupid was I that her omission gave me hope?
“What can I say? I’m old school.” The stranger shrugged. “How about you stand up and put your shoe back on—it’s lovely by the way. Louboutin?”
“Good eye,” she replied.
Her fucking shoes were Christian Louboutin? I knew enough to know that with what those things cost, there was no way she was a struggling college student living off her parents. Not that there could be any doubt left in my mind about that now.
Meanwhile the surreal banter between the British spy and the possible Russian spy continued, as if I weren’t even here.
“Thank you.” The man nodded. “Now, why don’t you get off my friend there.”
Finally, someone remembered my existence.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” She shook her head. “And I wouldn’t worry about my deadly shoe, if I were you.”
“Because of the gun in your leg holster?” he asked. “Don’t look so surprised, Alexandra. I can see the bulge through your pants from here. That fabric is much too thin to hide a weapon. You must choose better.”
“MI6 training you guys in fashion nowadays?” she asked.
“Just a hobby. Beautiful women in beautiful clothes are a passion of mine.”
This conversation would have been entertaining on the big screen accompanied by hot buttered movie popcorn. But from my position on the floor of MoMA’s underground theater, I didn’t find it amusing.
On top of it all, I was getting pretty damn tired of being bested physically by a woman. Call me chauvinistic. In light of this newest turn of events, I didn’t care.
This woman was supposed to be my civic-minded, college student girlfriend. Instead she was some jujitsu expert who’d taken me down with one move and was threatening me with a shoe that cost more than the rent on that apartment she supposedly shared in Queens.
And now I was being rescued by a Bond wannabe.
The whole night had been humiliating and I was tired of it.
I’d wrestled in middle school. I was pretty good at it too, until my growth spurt hit and I got too tall for the wrestling team and started playing basketball instead. But I’d bet I still had some moves.
I counted down from three in my head, then gripped Alex’s arms and flipped her over so she was on her back and I was on top of her.
My new dominant position felt much better.
True, I was still confused. I didn’t know if I wanted to fuck her or turn her over to the police—possibly both, but being in control was an enormous improvement.
“All right. All this witty spy banter is over. You, Mr. GQ. You first. You got a name?” I asked.
“I do.” His lips twitched with a smile. “Tristan Fairchild, at your service.”
“I’m assuming Zane sent you.”
“He did. I owed him one.”
I laughed out loud at the irony of that. “Don’t we all.”
I turned back to Alex. “Now you. What the fuck, Alex? Who are you and what do you want?”
She cocked a brow. “What I want is to know who you are.”
“You know that. I’m Brent Hearst. You know it’s true.” For better or worse, I was too damn famous to lie about it.
“I know your name. What I don’t know is who you’re working for and why you show up wherever Viktoria Mikhelson happens to be.”
I frowned. “Viktoria? You think I’m after her?”
“Aren’t you? Who sent you? What are you supposed to do? Kidnap her? Seduce her?” She narrowed her eyes on the last accusation.
I laughed. “Oh, no, sweetheart. You’re the honey pot here, not me.”
From off to the side, Tristan chuckled.
Lovely. So glad I’d amused him.
I kept my attention on Alex. “Why do you think I was sent after her?”
“You get a last minute invite to the event in the Hamptons that she was also a last minute addition to. You spent most of the night watching her. You’re wearing a comm tonight and reporting in to someone on the other end. There’s no question in my mind you were sent because of her. The only question is why and where is she now?”
Shit. Could I tell her the truth? Without Zane’s guidance I had to make a judgment call. “I was at that party to keep an eye on Alexey Mordashov. To make sure he didn’t get hurt. He just happened to be standing with Viktoria.”
She frowned. “Why? You’re no bodyguard.”
“No kidding. And to answer your question, Zane Alexander owns a security company. Somebody hired him to watch over Alexey while he was in the States.”
“And he chose you to do it?” The shock in her voice was starting to be insulting.
I wasn’t that bad at this job. Jeez. “I wasn’t the only one. I was just the only one inside the party. And the reason is because I, too, owed him one.”
I heard Tristan laugh once again. “Dangerous position, that.”
“So true,” I agreed without looking at him. My focus remained on Alex. “So, now you know all my secrets, and I’ll probably have to deal with Zane for telling you all of his. Now it’s your turn. Who are you? Who do you work for?”
And why did you sleep with me and make me care about you?
I couldn’t bring myself to voice that final question aloud even if it was as important as the other two in my mind.
“Viktoria’s father hired me to guard her.”
“If that’s true, you didn’t do a very good job of it. She seems to be missing.” Tristan’s observance had Alex scowling.
She blew out a frustrated breath. “That’s because I’ve been on the wrong trail.” She whipped her gaze from Tristan to me. “Chasing you.”
“If you’d been honest with me from the beginning, you wouldn’t have been chasing me and wouldn’t have lost Viktoria.”
I had no proof she was really working for Viktoria’s father, yet I was all too willing to grasp at the possibility. To cling to the hope. I hated myself for that.
I moved to get off her. It hurt too much to be this close to her. In this position it was too easy to remember our time together—and that it had all been a lie.
I remembered what Tristan had said about her leg holster and reached down before taking my weight off her.
I felt the warmth of her smooth skin against my fingers as I slid my hand up beneath her pants leg. I was trying to disarm a woman who might possibly do me or Viktoria harm and all I could do was remember the feel of her naked beneath me.
Christ. I was a mess.
Getting my head back in the game, I managed to get her weapon out of the holster and then stood.
“I’ll just hold on to this.” I kept the gun in my hand and glanced at Tristan. “So what’s next? What do we do about finding Viktoria? She crushed my comm so I don’t have Zane in my ear any more telling me what to do.” I tipped my head toward Alex, who was now standing up.
I took a step back to a safe distance and kept a tight grip on the gun in my hand. Better safe than sorry.
“Quite all right. I still have him in my ear. And you’re correct. He isn’t happy you told your girl everything.”
“He’ll live.” And maybe he’d think twice before sending me to do a job I was so obviously ill equipped to perform.
My cell vibrated in my pocket. I had my suspicions regarding whom it was, which is why I ignored it, not bothering to even check the caller ID.
“Alexander says to, and I quote, answer your damn phone.” Tristan smiled after confirming my guess regarding the identity of the caller was correct.
Rolling my eyes, I reached into my pocket, scowled at the display and answered the call.
“Yes?”
“I found her.”
“Who? Viktoria?”
“No. Alexandra. I found out who she really is. A photo search finally delivered a match. Her last name is definitely not Jones and she works for—”
“Viktoria’s father.” I finished his sentence. “She told us.”
“No. That was another lie. She’s Blackwater.”
I’d walked to the other side of the hall and was facing the far wall to get some privacy, but I turned back now.
As more lies piled up, one on top of another, I decided it was safer to not turn my back on this woman.
In fact, I was probably lucky I’d lived through the night we’d spent together because each revelation proved to be more sinister than the next.
“She’s what?” I’d heard him the first time, but at this point I wanted confirmation.
“Blackwater. She appears on their payroll.”
“Is that information public?” I asked.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
All righty, then. So Zane—or more likely his computer guy—had hacked someone’s payroll or tax records and that had led them to a private military contractor so notorious even I’d heard of them. And Alexandra worked for them.
“I don’t understand. What is she doing here and with me?” From what I knew, Blackwater worked in places like the war zone in the Middle East.
“I can only guess at that but here’s what I know. Blackwater’s founder Erik Prince, who happens to be Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos’s brother by the way, presented a proposal for an off-the-books intelligence arm that reports directly to the Oval Office. That’s public knowledge. You can Google it.”
If this nightmare ever ended, I would. For now, I had to trust Zane.
He continued, “Now, here’s my theory—I don’t know how far up the chain of command it goes and at the moment I honestly don’t care, but I believe Blackwater has already set up this private spy network and Alex is part of it.”
“So she was supposed to be doing what? Watching the Russians? Gathering information?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Possibly she’s keeping an eye on high level Russian visitors or she could be watching for anyone else tailing or making contact with the Russians while they’re here.”
“Like I was.” It was starting to make sense now why she’d zeroed in on me.
“Correct. But the bigger issue is that now Viktoria is missing. She’s not with you. She’s not with Alex—”
“So where is she?” I finished Zane’s thought.
“Exactly.”
“We need to find her,” I said more to myself than Zane. “But we weren’t hired to keep an eye on her. Just Alexey.”
“I contacted the client. They’re just as interested in protecting Viktoria at the moment. The original contract has been amended. She’s our assignment now.”
Things changed fast in this world I’d stumbled into. I’d just have to learn to adapt and roll with it. “All right. So what do we do to find her?”
“You, Tristan and Alex are on site. You need to work together to look for Viktoria.”
“Work with Alex? Are you nuts?” I hissed.
“You don’t have much choice. Tristan can’t work this job alone. You have no experience in the field. She does. She’s well trained as far as I can tell and regardless of the details of her assignment, she’s just as interested in finding Viktoria as we are. She’ll be an asset.”
“If she doesn’t stab me in the back first.”
Oh wait. She’d already done that to me—at least in the metaphorical sense. Might as well add actual injury to the insult.
“Get over it, Rosebud. You got taken in by a pretty face and a hot bod. It happens to the best of us.”
“Even you?”
“Even me.” Zane’s answer made me feel better. “Of course, never on an op.”
And now I feel like shit again because I had been fooled while on an assignment. I sighed.
“All right. Let’s do this thing.” I realized I had no idea what to do or even where to start in our search for Viktoria. “What exactly should I do?”
“Tristan’s in charge. He’s good. Listen to him. And try not to let Alex smash your phone the way she destroyed my comm.”
She’d almost blinded me with that same shoe. It would have been nice if my friend were a little more concerned about me almost losing an eye than him losing his comm, but whatever. I had other things to worry about.
It seemed I was now answering to James Bond while partnering with my own Bond villain lover. Lovely.
I drew in a breath to steel myself and turned back to look toward the mismatched members of my new team. “I’m hanging up now. Um, over and out.”
Zane laughed before the call went dead. Glad he was amused.
Back by the elevators I noticed that not much had changed. Alex was now standing but she was still on the deadly end of Tristan’s weapon.
“You gonna keep that on her the whole time we’re together?” I asked.
“Does it bother you?” he asked, without answering my question.
“Not at all. Shoot her if you want to. I don’t care.”
Alex swiveled to frown at me. I was happy she was finally grasping how truly pissed I was now that I knew she’d piled yet another lie on top of the rest.
“You might want to wait though,” I continued. “Zane thinks we need her help to find Viktoria.”
Tristan’s lips twitched at my comment. “Noted.”
“Did Zane tell you Daddy didn’t hire her. She’s Blackwater?”
“I’ve been informed, yes.”
Alex had the nerve to take a step forward. “Brent—”
“Don’t. Just don’t . . .” I was too mad to even finish a complete sentence. I drew in a breath and started over, abandoning Alex and turning toward Tristan. “Let’s just get through this thing. Tristan, you’re in charge. Tell us what to do.”
He nodded and took a step toward the map posted on the wall next to the elevator. “No doubt there’s security cameras set up at the entrance where she was last seen. We’ll have to find the room where those cameras feed and get a look at the video for ourselves. I’m guessing that room is located on one of these two lower levels.”
“But won’t there be a guard in there? What do we do about him?” I truly hoped he didn’t say knock him out. I didn’t want to be party to doing bodily injury.
Tristan turned from the wall map to smile at me. “Luckily we have an attractive and obviously skilled woman with us to distract him while I’m checking the feed.” His gaze hit on Alex.
I was all for using her various skills for good instead of evil, but I didn’t think she’d agree.
Surprisingly, she didn’t say a word. Her only reply was one small tip of her head.
Maybe she could be a team player after all if it meant getting her to her goal—finding Viktoria.
Or she was just waiting for us to be distracted so she could hit us over the head and run.
I guess we’d know either way soon enough, but I still saw one problem with this plan. Being what I considered an enlightened man, I asked, “What if the guard is a woman?”
Tristan smiled. “Don’t sell yourself short, Hearst. I’m sure you’ll have no problem stepping in and being a distraction.”
My eyes widened as I realized I might have to be the honey pot now and the night turned even more surreal.
Honey Pot: Tales of an Accidental Operative. A Memoir by Brent Hearst.
That thought proved I was losing my mind. But still, the publisher in me couldn’t help but think it would make one hell of a best selling title. I batted that errant thought aside to consider later.
Tristan referred to the map one more time. “Judging by the layout, security should be down this hallway.” He turned to look at both of us. “Shall we?”
I wasn’t turning my back on Alex again anytime soon. I waited for her to follow Tristan and I brought up the rear as my heart pounded.
Enlightened man or not, I prayed the guard was a man as I followed Tristan and Alex down the dim hall into the unknown.