The cuban, p.13
The Cuban, page 13
Hawk looked up at him. He’d left his face alone the past two days and the frigid temperature of the stones he laid on had acted as an ice compress, reducing the swelling. He was able to see the man clearly, and he studied him in silence. Why was he here?
“Yes, you are very strong, and stubborn, but we both know your body won’t take much more. It will break. No amount of will can prevent that. When that happens, your heart will stop, and even our paddles won’t be able to restart it.” The man stared down at him almost pensively. “And yet you still refuse to talk. You will die before you tell me what my boss wants to know. Why?”
“To piss you off.”
“You subject yourself to this excruciating pain simply to be an asshole?”
Hawk met his gaze steadily and was silent. After a long moment, the man exhaled loudly.
“Well, it’s out of my hands now,” he said. “Your stubbornness has earned you a reprieve. Someone is looking for you. They’re going through great lengths and trouble to find you. There is some belief that they may even be on their way here.” The man stopped and looked around the cell. “I very much doubt that, but I follow orders. The decision has been made to suspend my efforts with you. He’s hoping that I’ll have more luck with the person who is hunting for you. What do you think? Will they be as tough to crack?”
Hawk was aware of those dead, emotionless eyes studying him closely. A twisted flash of amusement went through him. Did the man really expect him to reveal anything at the news that someone was looking for him? After two weeks of unending pain, he should know better. He remained silent and after another lengthy pause, the man shook his head.
“I suppose I’ll find out. I look forward to meeting another one like you. Perhaps I’ll be more forceful on the first meeting than I was with you.” He walked over to stand over him and Hawk was forced to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. “Is that where I went wrong? Did I start out too easy on you? It’s so hard to judge in the beginning. Some men die after one session, and then we never get the information we want. It really is a fine line, isn’t it?”
He bent down until his face was inches from Hawk’s.
“I’ll get you back,” he promised in a low voice. “I’ll get what I need from your ally, and then I’ll have no need to pry information from you. No. I’ll be working just for fun. Then you’ll wish you weren’t such an asshole.”
He straightened up.
“Until then, rest and heal. I want a healthy ox so that I can drag it out as long as possible.”
He struck out with his boot, kicking Hawk’s legs as he turned away. Pain shot up his spine and Hawk felt himself falling sideways against the wall, unable to stop himself. He was too exhausted. It had taken every ounce of energy that he had left simply to pull himself into a sitting position.
As the door swung closed and the sound of the lock snapping into place echoed around the cell, Damon exhaled, his cheek on the cold stones. Once the footsteps had retreated down the corridor and silence fell around him, a smile curved his cracked lips. His eyes slid closed on a whisper, and that whisper warmed him from within as nothing else could.
Viper.
She’d found him. As welcome sleep came to cradle him, for the first time since he landed in this hellhole, Damon was filled with hope...and a hefty dose of confidence.
They had no idea what they were in for.
Chapter Fifteen
Viper strode through the station, a messenger bag hanging across her body and her single travel bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes moved constantly as she went, scanning every face and noting every camera. Her shoulders were tight and she was alert to every movement made around her, but she walked with a confident and relaxed stride. If anyone chanced to notice the woman walking through the crowded train station, they wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She looked like every other passenger trying to catch their train. If her gaze seemed to notice more than most, well, there was a war on, and everyone was more alert and on edge these days.
“Anya!”
A man called out to her, waving gaily over the heads of a throng of passengers. Alina smiled and moved towards him. Dori was right where he said he’d be, waiting for her. He was taller than most and his height would have made it very easy to spot him, even if he hadn’t been waving like a loon. But it was his wide smile and warm brown eyes that made her smile grow. It was the face of a friend, and she hadn’t seen one of those in days.
“My dear Anya, you are the only woman I know who still looks amazing after being on a train for hours!” He exclaimed as she drew closer. He pushed past a heavyset man dragging a rolling case and the next instant, Alina was engulfed in a welcomed bear hug. “Oh my God, is that a tattoo on your neck? How marvelous!”
“You sound so surprised!”
“I am, my dear. I am!” He bent his head to examine it more closely. “There’s a story behind that,” he decided. “You must tell me one day. How was your journey?”
“Uneventful, Dori, thank God.”
He clucked his tongue and shook his head, turning to lead her through the crowds with an arm around her shoulders.
“It is Yakiv these days, and I’m very glad to hear it. Yesterday one of the trains was derailed by shelling.” He led her out a door and into the fresh, crisp morning air. “How long do you have?”
“Not long. My train leaves in forty minutes.”
“Oh, that’s plenty of time for some coffee and something to eat. There is a cafe across the way. We will go there.” He looked down at her, his eyes dancing. “When was the last time you ate?”
Alina made a face.
“Longer than I’ll admit to you.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
“I should have known. You never change. You must eat to keep up your strength. Did I teach you nothing?” They came to an intersection and he touched her arm. “We cross here. You will have coffee and some pastries.”
Alina shot him a look. “Pastries? Do you know me?”
He grinned and winked.
“Hash then. Protein and potatoes. Even you can’t complain at that.”
A few minutes later, they were seated in a small cafe and he was ordering her breakfast, ignoring any protests she tried to make. When he’d finished, he turned his dark eyes on her and studied her.
“You look tired. Did you sleep on the train?”
“A little.”
He shook his head, all laughter gone from his face.
“You will need more than a little for where you’re going. Promise me you’ll try to sleep on the next train.”
“You’re a pain in my ass, Yakiv.”
He winked.
“I’m just trying to keep you alive, my dear. If anything happens to you, your man will have my balls on a plate.”
When she didn’t answer, he frowned and his eyes probed hers searchingly.
“He is all right?”
Alina swallowed, her face void of expression.
“I hope so.”
He exhaled and let out a low curse.
“Well, now your message makes much more sense.” He reached into his coat and pulled a large envelope from an inside pocket. “He’s the reason you go to Luhansk?”
“Yes.”
He passed her the envelope under the table.
“Here’s your delivery. Identities for you and Hawk, as well as enough cash to buy your way out of just about anything.”
“There were no problems?” she asked, taking the envelope and sliding it under her leg on the seat.
“None. Jared sends his regards and requests that you stay alive. He has a new project he’d like you involved in.” Dori grinned. “Personally, I would decline. Your talents are wasted in the training room.”
She raised an eyebrow, amused.
“Are they?”
“Yes, and you know that. It’s why you’re here, on your way into a shithole.” He fell silent as their coffee arrived, but once the waitress had departed, he continued. “When you reach Kharkiv, you’ll be met at the station by Borislav Luchinski. He’ll meet you outside. He will be wearing a green camouflage scarf and will respond to the phrase, “Yakiv says you’re an asshole.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. We are not so formal here as your old comrades. They use cute, seemingly random phrases that are all so very boring. We use real words, and the truth.”
She chuckled and nodded.
“Anything else I should know?”
“He goes by Boris, and he’s a ruthless bastard, but he’ll have everything you asked for. Don’t ask him how or where he got it. He’s very touchy about that. If he tries to throw in something extra, take it. If you decline it, he’ll be offended, and believe me when I say he is one person you don’t want offended with you.”
“Duly noted.”
Dori tilted his head and watched as she sipped her coffee.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“Yes.”
When she answered without hesitation, he nodded.
“Very well. Everything Boris has for you has been paid for, so don’t fall for any shit.”
Alina looked up at that, a quick frown on her face.
“By whom?”
“Who else? Mossad, of course. It is an investment. We’re betting on your safe return, so please don’t make it awkward. We don’t generally enjoy being wrong.”
Viper let out a short laugh and reached for her coffee again.
“I’ll do my best.”
Kharkiv, Ukraine
Viper strode through the station, the hood to her jacket pulled up over her head. Keeping her face turned slightly away from the cameras, she moved through the crowds confident that any playback wouldn’t provide an image of her face for recognition. If the Russian separatists controlling Luhansk had any sense, as soon as one of their cellars was breached, they would check all the train stations and bus depots for signs of the perpetrator. While she had no doubt that she wouldn’t be recognized, it never hurt to be overly-cautious.
Especially when the world thought you were dead.
Seeing a pair of armed security guards coming towards her, Alina dropped her bag to the floor and crouched down, opening it and appearing to be looking for something. The two men passed her with only a passing, uninterested glance, and once they were well behind her, she closed the bag and stood up, on her way once more.
While one would think that it would be easier to be invisible when one was presumed dead, the reality was that it required just as much work. The reason she and Damon were still presumed dead was because, as far as they were concerned, nothing had changed. They still took all the precautions that they had before, and had added a few more for good measure. Now, she reflected, it was a very good thing that they had. She had never fallen out of the old habits, and she definitely needed them to serve her well here. She was going into enemy territory, where one mistake would cost her not only her life, but Hawk’s as well. There was no room to be sloppy.
The exit doors were ahead and she looked down at her watch as she passed the last surveillance camera. Her fellow passengers streamed through the doors with her, and a moment later, she was standing on the sidewalk outside the station. Cabs lined up along the curb, and city traffic poured by on the busy road. Alina cast a sharp gaze along the row of waiting taxis before turning and walking to her left. Boris would not be with a cab.
She was just approaching the intersection when something made her look across the busy road. There, on the other side, was a huge man wearing a black coat. A green camouflage scarf hung around his meaty neck.
He was leaning, arms crossed over a barrel chest, against a rugged black Jeep that looked as if it had seen better days, and Alina felt a smile pulling at her lips. When she’d requested a four-wheel drive vehicle, she hadn’t expected to get her personal make of choice. As she crossed at the intersection, she ran her eyes over the Jeep. It was a Wrangler, a JK, and despite the few dings and scrapes that she could see, it really wasn’t in terrible shape. The tires looked new, and the hardtop was in good condition. It would do.
She reached the sidewalk and walked towards it, her dark eyes meeting a questioning glance from the behemoth leaning against it. Although his glance appeared to be uninterested, she was aware of the sharp examination from under his bushy brows. She had the distinct impression that not very much got by Borislav Luchinski.
“Boris?” she asked, stopping on the sidewalk a few feet away.
The man didn’t say a word, but stared at her. A dark beard covered his jaw and she noted that he kept it trimmed and manageable. If his eyebrows were anything to go by, the beard had the potential to grow thick and unruly, and Viper found herself wondering why he kept it so neat. Nothing else about him indicated that he was, in any way, a fussy dresser.
They stared at each other silently for a long moment, then she sighed silently.
“Yakiv says you’re an asshole,” she told him. “Are you?”
He grunted and straightened up, uncrossing his arms.
“Sometimes.” His voice was deep and, as he straightened up, Viper felt like she was confronting a bear. “Are you?”
“Sometimes.”
Appreciation lit his dark eyes and he walked around the hood to join her on the sidewalk.
“It’s nice to meet you, Anya. Your reputation has come ahead of you.” He went to the passenger’s door and opened it for her. “Yakiv is a fan.”
Alina eyed him for a second, then climbed into the Jeep, dropping her bag onto the floor at her feet.
“Yakiv talks too much.”
Boris let out a surprised laugh that boomed around them.
“Yes he does,” he agreed. “Nice tattoo.”
“Thanks.”
He nodded and closed the door, circling the hood to climb behind the wheel.
“As you can see, this is the four-wheel drive vehicle that you requested,” he said, starting the engine. “It has some dents and scratches, but the engine is good, and so are the tires.”
“And the registration?”
“Three different ones, as you specified.” He pulled away from the curb and into traffic, cutting off a cab and drawing a sharp honk of a horn. “In the glove box is a map. The route to Luhansk is marked out in red for you, with alternate routes in blue and green. I advise you to stick to the marked routes. They are the safest way in, with the least likelihood of any complications or unpleasantness. If you go another way, I cannot guarantee your safe arrival.”
“You weren’t paid to guarantee my safe arrival,” she murmured, opening the glove box and looking at the map inside. “I’ll do that.”
He grunted and fell silent, weaving through traffic as he put distance between them and the train station. Alina watched the city buildings slide by and wondered who Boris was loyal to. He didn’t look like a Mossad agent, although she’d been surprised by them before. Her initial impression had been that he was merely a mercenary, but his attention to detail in trying to ensure her safe passage into Luhansk belied that theory. In general, mercs had no interest in the continued well-being of passing clients.
After about ten minutes, Boris pulled into an alleyway.
“I will show you what your money has bought,” he said in explanation at her look. “It is in the back. Better to do it here, where no one can see.”
She nodded and he drove halfway down the alley before pulling behind a large, metal dumpster. He shut off the engine and her shoulders relaxed as he reached for his door handle. Climbing out of the Jeep, she was conscious of a sense of relief. This would be the perfect place to dispose of her if he’d been paid off by someone else. If that had been his plan, however, he would have made his move in the vehicle, where any screams would be muffled.
“I was able to get everything on the list,” he told her as they met at the back of the Jeep. “A few of the pieces were hard to come by, but I managed it.”
“No substitutions?” she asked, shooting him a sharp glance.
“You don’t pay for substitutions.”
“No.” She smiled faintly as he opened the door and pushed up the back windshield. Whoever he was, she liked him. He didn’t play around. “You were able to get everything? The Ruger as well?”
Boris opened a fishing tackle box in front of the black tactical crates stacked in the small cargo space. He pulled out a box and handed it to her without a word. Setting the box down, Alina pulled out a brand new Ruger American .45 caliber pistol and one of the magazines. After examining the magazine, she began to disassemble the gun with quick, sure fingers.
“And the 1911s?”
“In the case at the back with the rest of the small arms.”
She nodded and he watched as she examined the slide after removing it.
“No faith, Anya?”
“It’s not about faith. It’s about never firing a gun I haven’t personally inspected.”
He grunted, a reluctant gleam of respect in his eyes.
“You’d be amazed how few think that way.” He reached for one of the cases and pulled it forward, unlocking it and pushing the lid open. “Here are the accessories. Everything as you requested. You know, it looks like you’re going to war.”
Viper peered down the inside of the barrel.
“I am,” she said shortly before inserting the barrel back into the slide. She reached for the spring. “Are the rest in that other case?”
“Yes. I’ll show you.”
He closed the open case, relocking it, and lifted it out of the Jeep so that he could reach the largest crate in the back. Alina finished reassembling the Ruger and set it down, watching as he unlocked the lid. He opened it and stepped aside so that she could examine the contents.
“That’s some serious gear,” he said after a moment of silence.
“I’m a serious person.” She finished checking the contents and closed the lid. “The codes?”
“Same for all the cases.” He passed her a slip of paper. “You will, of course, want to change them. Do you need me to show you how?”
“No need.” She palmed the paper and slid it into her pocket. “Thank you.”
