Viktor shrugged out of his tweed blazer and flung it on the floor. “Strip for me, baby,” he said, adding another growl.
Again I tasted bile at the back of my throat, but then I remembered something I’d read once about lion tamers and how they worked with big cats. The article suggested that it was all in the attitude. Wild animals would stand down to anyone they felt was dominant to them, so when tamers cracked their whips and yelled their commands, they were essentially saying, “I am the alpha and you will obey me!”
I thought I’d give that a try. I stopped fiddling with the buttons on my shirt and eyed Viktor sternly. “You first,” I said. “Take off your damn clothes, Viktor. Now.”
The ploy worked. He smiled hungrily and began to tear at his clothes, stripping away his dress shirt, exposing a dirty undershirt that didn’t quite cover his extended belly. “Keep going,” I demanded.
To my relief he did. He got all the way down to his tighty whities, when I held up my hand for him to stop. “Turn around,” I ordered.
“Why?” he said, a bit of wariness creeping into his voice.
I stepped up to him with my hands firmly on my hips. “Because,” I said, staring down my nose at him, “I think you’ve been a very naughty boy and you need a spanking.”
The repugnant man giggled and turned around, wiggling his big wide butt at me.
Quick as a flash I reached to the small of my back, pulled out my stun gun, and zapped him with enough volts to topple a gorilla.
Kozahkov made a rather loud, squeaky, strangled sound and I covered that by shouting, “Oh, Viktor! You animal! Do it to me, baby!”
He hit the floor with a muffled thud and I just continued to hold down the trigger until the stun gun ran out of juice.
Viktor quivered and jerked on the floor and I stepped over him carefully, retrieved my jacket, and moved over to the window.
I’d seen the fire escape earlier when I’d had a chance to explore the condo. With effort I got the window open and stepped out onto the landing. I was about to text Dutch to warn him about the goons when a peek back into the room revealed Viktor flailing his arms and legs, struggling to get to his knees. I decided to get my butt to safety first and wasted no time moving to the ladder and working my way down it.
Climbing down a fire escape is much more difficult than you’d expect—after all, I was in a pencil skirt and heels, and it was forty degrees and windy outside. By the time I reached the bottom, I was out of breath, and shivering uncontrollably. I also didn’t quite know where to go.
As I was pulling my phone out of my pocket, however, a black sedan with smoked windows pulled up next to me. Uh-oh.
The window rolled down and a voice inside said, “Nice thong.”
I glared hard at the car’s interior, even though I couldn’t see the driver in the darkness. I then reached for the handle, which was locked. “Let me in,” I said curtly.
The locks were released and I tucked inside. The window slid up and I nearly sighed with relief as the car’s warmth wrapped cozily around me.
“Where’s Dutch?” I asked Frost.
“He went in a minute ago.”
“He what?” I shouted. “Dude! I just Tased Viktor!”
Frost’s eyebrows rose appreciatively. “You did? Why?”
“The son of a toad wanted to rape me,” I told him. “He suggested that I had to entertain him until Rick got there, so I coaxed him into the back bedroom away from his goons and zapped him.”
Instead of being alarmed, Frost actually snickered before putting the car into drive and taking us around the block to a discreet corner location where we could watch the front of the condo without being detected.
Once he’d parked, he pulled out his phone and typed a message into it. He didn’t tell me what the message said, and I could only hope he was sending Dutch a warning. “You have to go in there,” I said when he made no further move to assist my fiancé. “Seriously, Frost, when that guy recovers, he’s gonna be hoppin’ mad.”
“Probably,” our handler agreed, eyeing the windows at the top of the building. “But Rivers is armed and he knows how to handle himself.”
My cell vibrated again. With relief I read Dutch’s text: Where r u? I texted him back that I was safe and in the car with Frost. I also added a note that the bouquet held one small rose, which was so “stunning” that I’d placed it in the back bedroom, but I’d left the two daisies by the elevator because they were big daisies. Big, BIG daisies. I could only hope that Dutch picked up on all my subtext before he got to the penthouse.
I waited anxiously for him to reply, but he didn’t. “Shouldn’t you go in there?” I asked again after about ten minutes.
“And blow his cover? No. I think we should sit tight and see what happens.”
I stared up at the third floor and could see the lights on, but all the shutters had been drawn and there was no way to see what was happening. “Why didn’t Kozahkov meet Dutch at the bar?” I asked when it occurred to me again that the plan had changed without either Dutch or me knowing it.
Frost didn’t look at me when he answered, but continued to stare right at the building. “Dunno. Kozahkov’s appearance here caught everybody off guard. We expected him to show up at the strip club where Rivers was waiting for him.”
“Strip club?” I asked, my eyebrows rising. “I thought it was a bar.” My fiancé was going to have some explaining to do.
Frost snickered. “Kozahkov likes his strippers,” he said. “I had Rivers suggest one of Viktor’s favorite hangouts to get him to show up. I have no idea why he switched the meeting place on us.” Frost then eyed me. “It might have had something to do with you, though.”
“Me?” I said defensively. “Why would I have anything to do with it?”
Frost shrugged. “He might’ve heard that Des Vries got a new girlfriend and he wanted to check her out.”
“I’m not the girlfriend anymore, remember?” I snapped, moody about being forced to sit with Agent Asshole.
Frost eyed me again. “Oh, right,” he said. “You’re the assistant now. And I saw that you added a few things to your wardrobe on the Company’s dime.”
I could feel my face flush. “The hooker clothes weren’t working for me.”
“Yeah, well, the iPad’s going back,” he said firmly.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I was really wishing I had that iPad with me. I’d use it to smack Frost over the head. “You must be a blast at parties,” I told him.
“This ain’t a party, Cooper.”
“Duh,” I told him. “What’s your issue with me anyway?”
Frost lifted a Styrofoam cup of coffee from the cup holder on his console without answering me; his eyes remained trained on the building.
By now at least twenty minutes had passed since Frostbite had picked me up and I was really starting to get nervous about Dutch. Waiting and watching weren’t getting us anywhere, so I used the only other tool at my disposal—my radar.
I closed my eyes and focused on my fiancé. I could feel him inside the building; his energy was tense and focused, but I didn’t sense any pain. I let go of the little breath I’d been holding. “He’s okay,” I whispered.
“Who’s okay?” Frost asked.
“Dutch.”
“Did he send you a text?”
“No.”
“Did you see him in one of the windows?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know he’s okay?” I couldn’t help but detect the slightly mocking edge to Frost’s tone when he finally turned away from the building to look at me.
“I can feel it,” I told him bluntly. “My radar says he’s unhurt and working his way through the situation.”
“Right,” Frost said, that mocking tone ratcheting up another notch.
“Don’t take my word for it,” I told him. “See for yourself.”
With that, I motioned to the front doors, where Viktor and his goons were just now emerging, and my pal Daniel
was holding open the door for them. Kozahkov looked mad enough to kill someone, and I’ll give you three guesses as to whom he’d pick first for target practice.
His bodyguards were on either side of him, each one supporting him under the arms because he was definitely struggling to keep his legs under him.
My radar pinged suddenly and I sat forward, alert and focused. “Something’s not right,” I whispered.
Frost was watching Viktor and the goons. “You really did zap him, Cooper,” he said, ignoring what I’d just said. “Text Rivers and see if you can get him to respond.”
I put my arm on Frost’s shoulder, my radar insisting that there was some unseen danger approaching. In my head a warning sounded so loud I winced. Duck and cover! it commanded. My attention whipped to a car parked well down the street. Its lights came on and it maneuvered out of its parking place with a jerk. “Frost!” I yelled. “Something’s not right!”
“Shhhh!” he warned me. “Cooper, keep your voice dow—”
That was all he got out before we heard the squeal of tires. The car down the street had revved its engine and it was now roaring straight at us. I used my hand on Frost’s shoulder to pull him toward me, to the side, and down low. In the next instant a hailstorm of bullets tore the quiet night apart.
Chapter Four
Before I could even cover my own head, I was pulled sideways and a heavy weight fell right on top of me, mashing my face into the leather upholstery. I heard sounds like golf balls pounding against the metal of the car. Over our heads, glass crackled and splintered, while outside there were shouts and one piercing scream, and all the while it continued to rain bullets. The assassin’s car roared past, but it seemed to hit something, because there was a loud thud mixed into the cacophony of noise.
Even after the car had passed us, the assassin continued to shoot bullets, but when the car got to the end of the block, it squealed at the turn and was gone. For the next several seconds, all was quiet. Well, save for the sound of my panicked breathing and thundering heart.
I was still smunched against the leather seat, so I used my hands to try to get up from under the weight on my back. “Stay still!” Frost growled.
I stopped struggling. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Freaked-out, but otherwise I’m okay.”
“Good. Stay down and don’t move until I tell you it’s clear.” The pressure on my head and back lifted as Frost moved off me.
Once he’d had a chance to survey the area, he said, “Okay, you can get up now.”
I moved and heard the sound of tinkling glass. Sitting up slowly, I could see that our windshield had been struck by a hail of bullets, many of which were still stuck in the glass. Two bullets had made it all the way through, however, and one of them had lodged dead center into my headrest, and that hit me like a ton of bricks. If I hadn’t ducked at the exact moment I had, I’d have been dead for sure.
My car door was suddenly yanked open and Dutch’s panicked face filled my vision. “Thank Christ!” he said, reaching into the car to pull me out and hug me so tight I couldn’t inhale.
“I’m fine!” I squeaked. “Dutch, sweetie, please let go. I can’t breathe.”
Dutch released me from the embrace only to hold me at arm’s length and inspect me head to toe. “You’ve got a cut on your cheek,” he said, wiping his fingers gently at the side of my face.
“It’s nothing,” I told him, really hoping it wasn’t.
The other side of the car opened and Frost stepped out. “You okay?” Dutch asked him.
“Fine,” he said, eyeing something lying in the middle of the street. I looked to what had caught his attention and my stomach lurched. “Ohmigod!” I said, pulling out of Dutch’s grasp to hurry to the corner and lose my dinner.
After I’d stopped retching, I felt Dutch’s hand on my back. “How you doin’, Edgar?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I managed to say, before wiping my mouth with my sleeve. “Jesus,” I whispered. “Who would do that to someone?”
Dutch looked over his shoulder at what remained of Viktor Kozahkov. From what I’d seen, he’d been shot up but good before being run over. It was an image I didn’t think I’d ever get out of my mind.
“Someone who wanted him very dead,” I heard Dutch say to Frost.
“Cooper could have just as easily been the target,” our handler replied. “Did you catch the bullet holes on her side of the car? It looks like someone was aiming at her.”
At that, I turned and looked more closely at Frost’s car. Sure enough, most of the bullets that had landed on our car had favored the passenger side. It was a miracle I was still alive. “How is it that we weren’t hit?” I asked.
Frost knocked the side of the car. “Bulletproof,” he said.
I said, “Maybe the shooter fired at us using his left hand and most of those that favored my side of the car were just wild?” I was thinking there was no way I could have been the target, and it made sense to me that the driver was likely trying to steer the speeding car with his right hand and shoot out the window with his left. Dutch looked at me doubtfully, and I had a moment to consider that a professional hit man would probably be pretty skilled shooting either right- or left-handed while maneuvering a speeding car. “Yeah, scratch that,” I said with a gulp.
Dutch appeared seriously stressed, especially when he went over to inspect my side of the car. “Let’s get inside,” he told me as we heard the first sirens approach.
“Keep away from the windows,” Frost told us. “I’ll be up later and we’ll talk.”
It turned out that there was one more victim besides Viktor and his two bodyguards. The doorman we’d suspected was a spy for CSIS was dead in the doorway with several shots to the chest and head. I felt terrible, because even though he’d been working undercover to keep an eye on us, and in spite of the fact that he’d given Mandy a key card, knowing full well Rick Des Vries had arrived with another woman, he was still technically one of the good guys.
It also took until Frost was through with the police—about three hours—for me to stop shaking. Dutch had made me some tea, which helped, and he held my hand and told me I was okay, which helped even more. He also received a text from Frost, who was meeting with a high-ranking member of the CSIS. Dutch showed me the message and I grimaced. So much for keeping under the Canadian radar.
Our CIA handler came up close to midnight, and by then I was slumped in my chair, heavy with fatigue.
“How’d it go with CSIS?” Dutch asked him before the guy even had a chance to sit down.
Frost tugged on his tie to loosen it and took his seat. “Not as bad as expected,” he said. “They’re not happy that we’re working with Rick Des Vries, but they weren’t sorry to see Kozahkov taken out. It was a little stickier because their agent got hit.”
“I liked him,” I said dully. “He seemed like a nice man underneath the subterfuge.”
Frost nodded and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Yeah, it sucks, but as bad as losing one of our allies is, I still have to point out that it works in our favor.”
“How’s that, exactly?” I asked, disgusted that he could find the agent’s death beneficial.
“We offered to put one of our own guys into the building undercover and take the risk. CSIS took the offer, no questions asked. We’ll feed them a few tidbits about Des Vries’s comings and goings, and that should keep the heat off of us for now at least.
“It’s going to be even more important, though, Agent Rivers, for you to keep your identity a secret. We can’t risk the CSIS finding out that you’re an impostor working for us. They’d never trust the CIA again.”
I wondered why anyone would trust the CIA in the first place, but I kept that thought to myself.
“When word gets out that Kozahkov was hit outside Des Vries’s condo, it could attract a little too much of the wrong kind of attention. You two are going to have to work to keep a low profile from here on out,” Frost
warned. “No paper trails or run-ins with the local authorities. Obey all traffic laws and local ordinances. If one of you gets sick or hurt, don’t go to the doctor; we’ll send one of our guys in to check you out.”
“Wait,” I said, putting up my hand. “You’re including me in that mandate? You think the CSIS would be interested in me?”
Frost sent me a piercing stare. “They’ve already asked about you, Cooper. They had more intel on Des Vries’s regular girlfriend than we did. Candy something . . .”
“Mandy Mortemeyer,” I corrected, liking that, for once, I knew more than he did.
“Yeah, her.” Frost yawned and scratched his chin. “We didn’t anticipate that she’d lose her job and show up here. What a pain in the ass. And we didn’t even know she’d entered the building until Rivers texted me.”
“How is that possible?” I asked. Weren’t they watching us like hawks?
Frost sighed heavily. “She came in through the garage, and our guy on watch by the entrance—who’s been reassigned—thought she was you in the blond wig again. He didn’t spot her until she came out driving one of Des Vries’s cars.”
“That must have been where she got the key card to the penthouse in the first place,” I surmised, feeling bad that I’d blamed the doorman. “How many cars does Des Vries have?” I’d driven one on my shopping spree and Dutch had obviously driven another. From memory there’d been a few cars parked in the garage when I’d gone out to do my shopping.
“Three. She took the only one worth less than a hundred grand.”
My eyebrows rose. “You guys gonna track her down so she doesn’t come back?”
“We’re working on it,” he said irritably, which let me know Mandy had given some other errant agent the slip. I wondered if he’d been reassigned too.
“I broke up with Mandy by text,” Dutch said. “She’s got to think Rick’s a tool for breaking up with her that way. I bet she moves on by tomorrow.”