Read Operation Heartbreaker Online

Authors: Christine Thomas

Operation Heartbreaker (13 page)

“Have you thought about my offer?” Viktor interrupted her thoughts.

What offer? Oh, that she was supposed to sell her dad out for him? Yeah, right. She nodded and wrapped her fingers around the pin. She would lead him to Cole. In return she’d draw on Viktor’s logistical means. She’d rather pulled this off with her uncle, but wasn’t sure if she could ever trust him again. All those lies were weighing on her. The fact that he’d made her believe she was deathly ill didn’t make things better. Besides, he had no interest getting her to Cole, despite probably knowing her dad’s new hiding place better than anybody else.

The thought brought a soft smile to her face. She also had an idea where he was. Once they were finally together, she’d find out the truth. She had enough of David’s fairytales. She also didn’t know how much she could trust Jean’s information. And Viktor–well, he was on an entirely different page. Basically, all of them gave her a fraction of the truth, the part that wouldn’t hurt them. Thanks to her gift, she could tell fibs from facts pretty well by now. But would she also be able to recognize a lie if the person was convinced he or she was telling the truth? Questions upon questions.

Only one thing was for sure. If her father didn’t want to be found by her, he wouldn’t have given her the pin. He seemed to have planned it, why else would he have slipped her a signpost to his whereabouts?

Which led to the question why he didn’t just let David bring her to him? Didn’t he trust him? Or was David too well guarded, now that the CIA knew his role in this play?

Cole had to be aware that she would ask someone for help. How else would she be able to get to him, after all, he wasn’t in Paris anymore. Or did he have her monitored? That wasn’t unlikely, and would explain his presence at the Ritz.

A different thought struck her. What, if it hadn’t been Cole who’d slipped her the pin? Somebody who was following her to strike at the right moment?

She sighed internally. She could have busied herself with this game for hours. In the end she had to make a decision. He father had survived for years despite the entire world being after him. Even if she’d show up at his place with an entire horde of agents in her neck he would be prepared. He’d proven on more than one occasion that he could take care of himself. Of course it was risky, downright crazy. But for the first time in her life she didn’t want to listen to the voice of reason, but follow her heart. She’d never felt as alive as in the last two days. It was indescribable how the world felt without her pills. Powerful and intense. She didn’t want to waste another moment sleeping, she’d done enough of that.

But she had to be careful. Except for Julie she didn’t know who to trust and who the real enemy was.

Thinking of her friend made her bite her lip. She had to get Julie home save. Today was Monday, which meant that her parents were coming back from California. Besides, the two of them were supposed to be at school. Oops.

As soon as Viktor agreed to her plan she’d send David a message via WhatsApp. He had to take care of her friend.

“So you know where he is?”

Viktor’s voice brought her back into the suite. Alarmed, she realized he was sitting closer to her than it was healthy. She breathed in his earthy scent and suppressed a sigh. Damn it, he smelled good!

She nodded curtly cause she didn’t trust her voice.

“And, will you lead me to him?” He picked up her hand and made little circles with his thumb on her wrist.

Boy, that felt good. She wanted to close her eyes and lean into him. Since that was probably his intention, she made an effort and cleared her throat. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Well…how am I supposed to know I can trust you?”

Nothing he said or did would convince her of his trustworthiness. But it couldn’t hurt to string him along a bit. He was used to everybody jumping at a snap of his fingers. Just because he smelled of freshly mowed grass she wouldn’t make it easy for him. She pulled her hand away and sat up straight.

“Good argument,” he said and tugged at his earlobe. Did he do that because he was at a loss for an answer or because he was thinking?

While she was pondering that he stood and held his hand out to her. “Come! I want to show you something.”

She let him pull her to her feet and followed him down the hallway. Goliath and Blondie were standing in front of the door to his suite, other than that the hallway was empty. Still holding her hand, he led her to the end of the corridor and took the stairs to the second floor. The staircase was being watched by two more males who let them pass. In front of a double door he stopped, suddenly nervous. “Ally, you can’t tell anyone about what’s in there. You have to keep it to yourself.”

Instead of answering, she stared at him.

He apparently misinterpreted her silence, because he added: “It isn’t anything illegal, it’s just…” While searching for the right words he ran his fingers through his hair. “If you reveal any of what you’re about to see, people’s lives are at stake, you understand?”

She would have liked to roll her eyes. Of course she understood, after all she wasn’t dumb. Since she’d set foot into this city people were in constant danger of dying. City of Love? You’ve got to be kidding! Paris was more like the city of dine and crime. The dining-part was the only good news, the latter…not so much.

Right now nobody was safe, neither Julie, nor she herself, nor anybody else close to her. It was hard to believe that there could be anything behind these doors that would endanger her even more.

“Deal?” he asked and softly squeezed her hand.

A heavenly peace began to float through her body and her resistance vanished like magic. “Okay,” she whispered and nodded her agreement. Ally held her breath as he opened the double door and walked her into an elegant lounge held in crème and golden colors.

12

 

With Ally in tow he crossed the room and stopped in front of a hallway leading into a bedroom. Clouds of cigar smoke oozed from this room–yuck! Viktor turned to her and cleared his throat. Yep, he was definitely nervous. Should that make her nervous as well?

“Wait a moment, I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for an answer he disappeared into the adjoining room and quietly said something in…Russian?  The answer came from another man and turned out rather grumpy.

She stepped forward to eavesdrop the conversation that proceeded like a ping-pong game. Judging by the sound of his voice the other man wasn’t exactly delighted by her presence. He felt that his son was acting to foolishly and that he…Wait a minute. Why did she know the man in there was Viktor’s father? And how was she able to follow their conversation? She neither spoke Russian nor Ukrainian.

Then it dawned her. Words weren’t just a combination of letters, they were energy transporting images and emotions. And she was something like a radio tower receiving the signals and analyzing them. The latter has still to be developed, but after she’d taken the first steps, her instincts seemed to have taken the helm. As if they’d only waited for permission. The absence of her meds probably did the rest. Instead of suppressing them, she actively used her
Skills
for the first time ever, which was a big game-changer. The resistance was gone, finally her capabilities could unfold their potential.

While she was still marveling about her newfound talent for languages, Viktor stuck his head back out into the salon and gifted her with his raider’s smile. “Ready?”

She nodded, though it was a whopping lie. She felt everything but ready.

The bedroom came across a bit pretentious. Dark bloodred brocade curtains with ornate embroidery were draped around the windows. When she got closer, she realized it was golden leafage ranking creeping up the drapes in small circles. A ruby colored Persian rug ending in front of a bed with four bedposts was softening her steps. The canopy was kept in the same golden and red hues as the rest of the room. Lying in the bed was a man, leaning against a bunch of pillows. Ally could have sworn that his bathrobe was made of the same heavy fabric as the curtains. On the bedside table was a tray overflowing with medication. In front of that was a mobile Oxygen tank. The arrangement confused her, because the man in the in front of her didn’t look sick at all. On the contrary: He seemed alert and zestful. He was oozing a strong energy that made the fine hairs in her neck stand up. It told her that she was dealing with a stormy personality. This man knew what he wanted and how to get it.

Viktor’s father wasn’t a good-looking man. Except for the black hair and the strong chin he bared no resemblance to his son. His eyes weren’t deep blue as his Viktor’s, but came across more watery. Cold. Even worse than his Siberian expression was his skin, which resembled a lunarscape.

“Here she is, our early bird,” he greeted her in a raspy voice, in which resonated with an inimitable Russian accent. To her surprise he sounded pleasantly warm. It didn’t fit at all with his repulsive appearance.

“What brings you here at this uncivilized hour?” A look at her watch told her that it was a little before seven.

“My visit wasn’t exactly planned,” she started, but Viktor stepped forward and took her hand. Ugh, he should stop that, it felt much too good.

“We are lucky she came.”

“Hmpf,” his father grumbled and reached for a cigarillo laying in an ashtray on the bedside table. He lit it and took a few puffs.

For real now? Who in their right minds smoked at this hours? And a cigar to top it off! No wonder he needed Oxygen if he smoked before breakfast.

Suddenly she remembered something. “Wait a minute, I thought you were dead.” Granted, a sense of tact wasn’t one of her strong suits, but she’d never claimed that.

Instead reacting peeved, Sergej throaty laugh cut the silence.

Ally secretly asked herself how much Vodka one had to drink to get such a scratchy voice. Or were his vocal chords just as scarred as his face?

“I like her,” he said to his son, who let out a breath. “Sit down.” Sergej tapped invitingly on the bed.

Um, no thanks. Instead of taking a seat next to him, she sat down at the end of the bed and leaned her back against one of the heavy bedposts. It was, as she noticed, also covered with leafage that an artist had carved into wood and painted with gold foil. So not her style.

Viktor pushed a pillow into her back and sat down on the other side.

“I was dead,” Sergej said in his dark voice, “but I was saved at the last moment.”

“How?”

“That’s not an interesting question,
da
?” he remarked in a relaxed manner.

“But…”

Sergej lifted a hand. “I’ll get to that later.” He contemplatively puffed on his cigar. Ally wished he would stop that. “Much more interesting is the question who?” Now his eyes rested on her and she shivered.

That’s right. Who’d killed him–or at least tried? What would she do if he claimed that Cole had been the perpetrator?

“Don’t worry, princess,” he said as if he’d read her mind. “It was supposed to look like it was Cole’s work, but we know better.” He laughed about the odd jest. Of course they knew, after all Sergej had been there.

For a moment she was relieved he wasn’t incriminating her dad, but that changed with his next words. “Though he could have done it. You know, your father is an excellent killer.”

Ally’s eyebrows lifted.

He leaned forward. “You heard right, princess. Killing is his specialty. There’s only one thing he can do better.”

“Which would be?” Had she really just asked that?

“Stealing!” he exclaimed and puffed vigorously on the cigar. This time she demonstratively fanned her face with one hand hoping he’d pick up the hint. In case he did, he ignored it.

“Your father is a thief,” he grumbled and his accent thick now, probably because he was getting pissed.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted him. “But as far as I know he only took what you’d stolen before.”

“That’s right,” he admitted unmoved. “But he had no right to do it,
da
?”

“Oh really?” Ally sat up straighter. “And you did, I assume?”

“Of course!” he thundered.

Seriously, if this guy really was sick or injured he had a weird way showing it. “Well, this should be interesting,” she mumbled.

The gentle clattering of dishes focused her attention to a thin man entering the bedroom. Balancing a large tray he was barely taller than five foot three with thinning hair and a giant hooked nose. After placing the tray on Sergej’s bed, he clicked his tongue and extended a hand towards Viktor’s father, who in turn grumbled something and handed him the cigar. He then had to endure a series of Ukrainian cusswords, which he took like a naughty boy being lectured.

Considering who Sergej was, it was weird watching him being scolded by this dwarf. Disgusted, the man threw the cigarillo into the ashtray and pointed at the breakfast he’d just brought. After throwing Sergej one last sulky look, he left the bedroom, ignoring them completely.

Ally threw a glance at Viktor, who wasn’t even trying to hide a smile.

“That was Nikolaj, my dad’s personal physician,” he said with a wink.

“He didn’t seem happy,” she quietly replied as Sergej pulled the tray onto his lap.

“You got that right,” Viktor muttered, watching his father eat. Only now Ally noticed the feast that had been under the bell covers. Was that supposed to be breakfast?

“What the hell is that?”

“Those are
Blinis
and
Pierogis
. No Russian breakfast comes without them.”

As far as she could tell,
Blinis
were buttered pancakes filled with all kinds of nasty treats. Some of it she could identify as minced meat with curd. Or was it sprats?

Ally swallowed hard. She couldn’t believe that he ate that voluntarily.
Pierogies
looked like oversized tortellini. She rather didn’t want to know what was in them.

“Those bastards,” he exclaimed between bites, “killed my wife, Elena.”

Viktor’s mother had also been murdered? “And who are those…bastards?”

“The CIA of course! Don’t you know anything?” Shaking his head, he stuffed himself with caviar and curd. Ally didn’t know what was more disgusting, the smoking or the sickening stuff he was wolfing.

He acted as if they were delicacies and washed it down with  tea. “Boy, what did you tell your little missy, eh?” What followed was an argument in Ukrainian. If the two had suspected that she was in fact able to follow their conversation without problems she would probably have been spared the embarrassing dispute.

Apparently, Sergej thought that Viktor was getting it on with her, something that his son vehemently denied. For Ally’s taste, a bit too vehemently. What was wrong with her? Was she really that repulsive? Sergej topped that by remarking that she wasn’t even well endowed around her… Well now, that’s enough. She audibly cleared her throat whereupon Viktor threw her a questioning look. Based on her red ears he assumed that she got at least the general gist of the conversation.

Now he was the one to clear his throat.

“Give her some time. Ally has only recently learned of Cole’s…activities.”

His activities? She hadn’t even known that her dad was alive.

Sergej pushed the tray onto the nightstand and crossed his arms in front of him. “So, you want to know the truth,
da
?”

She didn’t bother to give him an answer, but also crossed her arms to mirror his posture.

“Are you sure you can handle the truth, princess? After all, it’s not for little girls.”

“I can leave, if you like, then we’ll never know.“ She was tired of being treated with condescend. If she left they could find another way to get to Cole. They needed her more than the other way around.

Sergej seemed to realize this as well, since he defensively lifted both hands. “Alright, let’s see.” He leaned back into his pillows and set his cold gaze on her. “Your father was one of the first who recognized the danger coming from Special Skills. Once his girlfriend got pregnant he realized that those highly praised scientists weren’t as omniscient as they believed. After all, he shouldn’t have been able to father a child.” Sergej leaned towards the nightstand, picked up his tea cup and took a sip.

“None of the test persons were allowed to get married,” he said quietly. “A marriage wouldn’t agree with their lifestyle, if you know what I mean, eh?”

Of course, she wasn’t born yesterday. Trigger-happy killing machines whom one had trained off feelings didn’t fit with a house in the suburbs and a white picket fence.

“It was Cole who organized the resistance against the CIA, and it was him who fought his former employer without mercy.”

She couldn’t help but feeling proud of her unknown father. Maybe proud was the wrong term considering the dead. But without his initiative the number of victims would have most likely been significantly higher. Cole had realized what kind of club he belonged to. He’d exposed the mistakes and acted. That got her respect despite any reluctance.

“He and three other survivors founded one of the most powerful syndicates worldwide aimed against the US government. Especially against the current president, who’d been the head of the CIA back then and the key person responsible for the SK project.”

Holy shit! President Mitchel was behind all of this? The President of the United States was responsible for her being a freak and her father being on the run? She couldn’t decide if she wanted to scream or laugh. The whole thing sounded like a joke, and a bad one, that is.

“His name is on a list that Cole stole a few weeks ago from Cyrus Patrick, Mitchel’s right hand.”

“But those are just names.”

Sergej shook his head.

“Every partner left a digital fingerprint so he would…let’s say, think twice before leaving. Once you’re in, you’re in. You don’t just terminate membership like in a gym,
da
?”

“What the heck does this
da
mean?”

Viktor leaned towards her. “It means
yes
,” he whispered.

Oops, had she actually asked it out loud?

“Stop the dirty talk there’s time for that later.”

Now, that was really scraping the barrel! She opened her mouth for a snappy return, but Segej beat her on it.

“Mitchel holds Cyrus responsible for the theft that can cost him his presidency. If any of it goes public Mitchel and everybody involved will be a goner.”

“So, this list is…what? A flash drive something like that?”

“It’s a USB stick, as small as a five cent coin. Do you have any idea how many possibilities there are to hide something small as that?”

Yet, Cole had found it. Twice. Suddenly it dawned on her. She was such an idiot! If she were a comic book character there would be light bulbs gong off around her head. Cole had her gift, or to be exact, she had inherited it from him. Inherited it thanks to this wretched program. He would be able to find this pen drive in any place at any time. Blindfolded, if necessary.

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