Something hit her between the shoulder blades with incredible force, knocking her face down in the muddy leaves. Something heavy was on top of her. It moved and breathed and stank of cigarettes.
It pried the pistol out of her hand and jammed it against her neck. An arm slid under her chin, pressing against her windpipe. She hunched her back up with the strength of terror, giving herself just enough space to shove the flat monitor beneath a soggy drift of leaves.
The thing on top of her grabbed her hair, pulled her face around to the side. She saw white-blond eyebrows, pinkish eyes, a hooked nose. The thing grinned at her with big, yellow teeth.
“Hello, pretty girl. The boss is going to be real happy to see you.”
Chapter 27
Finally Seth was back in the zone. His concentration was almost back to normal; instincts razor sharp, utterly focused. He was almost to the punchline of this crazy joke, and nothing would keep him from it—as long as he didn't pay attention to that burning cloud that hung in the middle of his mind. Raine.
He wrenched his concentration back with a savage jerk. Nothing existed but here and now. He was on his belly, fifty meters from the house. Cameras were a sure thing, but there was no way to tell if Novak had motion detectors. He doubted it, with that army of sentries on the grounds. Besides, this wreck didn't look like a place that warranted a hard-core security installation. It looked like a creepy haunted mansion. Trust Novak to go for atmosphere over security.
He allowed himself to feel cautiously optimistic. Between him and the McClouds, they'd evened out the odds quite a bit. The monitor told him that the Corazon was in that house. Getting in was going to be an interesting challenge. He wiggled another few feet closer, under cover of an overgrown shrub. The line on the earpiece clicked open.
“Yo, Seth.” Sean's voice was strangely subdued. “Hate to tell you this, but... your lady friend has decided to join us.”
Seth’s mind went blank.
No way. She was supposed to be wrapped in a blanket, sipping a cup of herbal tea under Connor's watchful eye. Nowhere near here.
“Where?” he snapped into the little mike clipped to his collar.
“She must've come through the hole I made on the western side. One of the goons has her in a twist. He's taking her into the house.”
“Can you get him?”
“Too far,” Sean said. “Too risky. I might hit her. Sorry.”
“Shit” he hissed. “I can't believe it. I cannot fucking believe it”
“I hear you, man” Sean said sympathetically. “She's a handful. Have to say, though, that chick sure does get around. Wonder what she did to Connor. Jesus. I hope she didn't hurt him, or anything.”
“Shut up, Sean. Davy, how’s hunting?”
“I've bagged some real beauties “ Davy responded promptly. “Trussed up and ready for dressing out.”
“How close are you to the house?”
“About a hundred meters “ Davy said.
Seth tried to crowd emotion out of his mind, to get back to that perfect realm where instinct ruled. But it was hopeless, it was pure hell, with Raine popping up, getting nabbed, blocking his line of fire, fogging his brain with her beauty. That was her special gift, to turn something that was supposed to be as clear and simple as a rifle blast into something hellishly complicated.
“Get closer” he said. “Listen up. This is what I have in mind...” Kurt Novak stared at the screen that showed him the library where Victor Lazar was waiting. The man was seated comfortably on an overstuffed Victorian armchair, smoking a cigarette. At his ease. Daring to think that he had checkmated the master of the game. How gratifying it was going to be, to watch him grovel and beg.
It was risky to hold the meeting here, but he'd been cowering in windowless holes for too long. Enough. He dialed Riggs's number, one last time. Still nothing. Riggs had failed in his simple mission, even with the assistance of one of the most talented assassins in the area. The girl's lover must be very skilled.
The timing of the game was off. How annoying. He had the cellar room all prepared, and he had wanted the girl right here, so he could play Lazar like a fish on a line. As it was, he would have to improvise. But uncertain outcomes created space for unexpected flashes of genius.
In any case, Riggs would pay for his incompetence. Or rather, his daughter would pay. He began to punch in Georg's number. He wanted Georg to be particularly creative with the Riggs girl.
A radio transmitter beeped. He picked it up. “Yes?”
He listened to what his man had to say, and began to laugh. He turned to the monitor and enlarged one of the images.
Within seconds, Karl appeared on the screen with the Lazar girl. He said something sharp, and wrenched her hair back until she looked up at the camera, her lovely eyes full of defiance.
She looked a bit the worse for wear, but still mouthwatering. Those mil, trembling lips. That pale skin that would show every little mark. He hadn't needed the worthless Riggs after all. He had wasted his best assassin for nothing. The girl had come to him on her own.
“Bring her to me,” he said. He could hardly wait to conclude this tedious business with Lazar.
Then it would be playtime.
She hated feeling stupid, as well as terrified. Novak wrenched her wrists up behind her and twisted. A blaze of agony flashed through her nerves, and she hovered for a second on the verge of fainting before Novak forced her onward.
Karl, the thug who had jumped her, opened a heavy, carved mahogany door and stood aside to let them enter. He leered horribly as she passed. She could still feel his damp, clinging hands on her body. She wondered if she would ever be able to wash the feeling away.
More to the point, if she would ever have the opportunity to try.
Victor was waiting in the big, shabby library. His face was grim, and he looked unsurprised to see her. Karl and another of Novak's men took up their positions on either side.
“Hello, Kurt,” Victor said. “Is this unpleasantness necessary?”
“Most unpleasantness is, Victor,” Novak replied. “Please bear in mind that you put me in this position. You have only yourself to blame.”
Victor's eyes met hers. A faint smile touched his lips. “Good morning, Katya “ he said. “I am distressed to see you here, but not surprised. You have to be at the center of the action, no? You simply cannot stay to the side, where it is safer.”
“You saw me on the monitor, didn't you?” If there was one last useful thing she could do, it was deflect their attention from Seth.
“Yes.” Victor looked her up and down. “Your sense of personal style is evolving at a lightning pace, my dear. What's this new look you're sporting? G.I. Jane? It has a certain wild, scruffy charm, but I prefer the Dolce & Gabbana, myself.”
“I look like this because I've been fighting off Ed Riggs,” she said.
Victor's ironic smile froze into a mask. “Riggs attacked you?”
“Everybody attacks me,” she muttered sourly.
Novak wrenched her arm up, and she arched back with a hiss of pain. “Stop whining,” he said. “Riggs is my man now. He spilled the entire sordid tale to me last night. Seduction, blackmail and murder. What a family, eh? When it comes to squalid secrets, it rivals my own.”
She met Victor's eyes. “So it's true.”
Victor shrugged. “A small part of a much larger truth,” he said coolly. “Congratulations for fighting him off, Katya. I'm sure you were more than a match for that imbecile. You did kill him, I hope?”
White-hot fire flashed through her arm as Novak forced her slowly to her knees. “No,” she croaked. “Not my style.”
“No?” Victor looked disappointed. “One must make allowances for inexperience, I suppose. For heaven's sake, Kurt, let the poor girl up. There’s no need for such theatrics.”