Karl frowned as though something was bothering him.

  “What is it?” Saskia asked sharply, standing and dusting the crumbs from her jeans.

  He shook his head, but finally admitted. “It’s a weird coincidence. Someone playing a stupid prank in the club while Jozef is out of town. Almost as if they know he’s away and are testing our defenses.”

  “Do you really think that’s what happened?” Fatima asked, fear in her voice.

  His eyes softened. “I’m a suspicious man. Have to be for my job. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  Fatima looked marginally better, but Shaun knew better. And apparently, so did Saskia.

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Saskia demanded.

  He looked at her, his gaze still troubled. “We looked at the footage of people leaving the club. Your sister was here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jozef’s team ran into very little trouble as they moved through Somalia, travelling down the border between Ethiopia and Kenya, into South Sudan. Ali hacked into and redirected a satellite from a large telecommunications company to survey the region as they moved so they were able to avoid any hotbeds of activity.

  Every man on Jozef’s team understood the score. They worked hard, paid attention and rolled with the rough living. At the end, the payoff would be worth more than they would have otherwise likely seen in their lifetimes. This was why Jozef took the risks that he took. The payoff.

  Yet, something felt different this time. An alarm bell was going off in his brain telling him to step carefully, double check everything, make sure his team was alert. He suspected the alarm was Shaun. She was worried about him, which caused him to worry. He wondered if this new development was a liability or if it might one day save his life.

  It was two days into their trek, as they were forced to lay low and allow a paramilitary contingent pass through the valley below them that Jozef realized what the bell with Shaun’s voice was trying to tell him. He had too much to live for to die now.

  As they continued to walk over, under and through the rough terrain to the vehicles waiting to take them over the border, Jozef thought about his life. He’d been raised and trained to believe one thing. His existence was for the protection of others at the expense of all else, including his own life. He’d never before valued his life quite the way he did now. His year in prison had been made more bearable by the knowledge that he had little to live for, thus the risks involved in climbing the Bratva ladder didn’t faze him.

  Now, things were different. Now, when he thought about death, he thought about all the missed days and years that he wouldn’t get to spend with Shaun if he died. She was giving him a reason to survive.

  “Stop,” Havel commanded as they neared the checkpoint.

  Jozef’s men fell into place, each taking position to watch and attack if they were set upon. Jozef, who had been at the back of the group, made his way to Havel, who was standing next to Halil, their scout for the mission.

  Halil didn’t hesitate but starting filling Jozef in the moment he was in earshot. “Two transport vehicles up ahead. They look military, but I don’t think they are. There appears to be four men with the vehicles, all armed. One is our contact.”

  Jozef grunted his acknowledgment. Radik had given them a contact for the border crossing. A man named Zeke, no last name. Probably a fake name.

  You two come with me, Jozef signed. We’ll take three others. The rest will cover us until we give the go-ahead.

  They’d already gone over the meet, discussing every possible scenario, so every man knew what he was doing. Yet Jozef knew the best laid plans could go to shit in a matter of seconds. He had so many backup plans, his team occasionally referred to him as their mother hen because he worried over them.

  Of course, no one said it in his hearing, but Havel was pleased as punch to tell Jozef when his team was making fun of him. Though they would have to respect him to his face, he didn’t mind a little ribbing. It strengthened their bonds with each other, which made them more effective.

  Jozef, Halil and Havel walked up the overgrown dirt road, their boots kicking up dust. Three of Jozef’s men followed several meters behind, covering their backs. It took about ten minutes to reach their destination.

  The vehicles and the people around them were as expected. Two military trucks with canvas-covered beds were waiting for them. Their contact, Zeke, separated from the group and strode toward Jozef.

  Zeke stretched a hand towards Jozef but spoke to Havel. “Right on time.” He glanced around, a frown creasing his thick brows. “Where are the rest? I was told you’d have ten men.”

  Havel growled his annoyance at Zeke. “You talk to him.” Havel pointed at Jozef. “He’s in charge.”

  Zeke’s surprised gaze snapped back to Havel. “My apologies, I was told Mr. Koba doesn’t speak.”

  Havel’s hand landed on the butt of his gun. “You don’t know the difference between speaking and hearing? He’s got ears.”

  Jozef clapped his hands, getting everyone’s attention. He’d learned long ago how to hit his palms together just right, so they made a thunderous, ear-splitting clap. It worked well when he needed to communicate and no one was looking at him.

  He signed to Havel, his movements rapid, quit fucking with our contact. We need him and he’s not doing anything we haven’t seen before. In fact, it’s better when they underestimate me. Let’s get on with it. I don’t want to be late for the next meet.

  Havel dragged his big knife from his belt and tapped it against his fingertips. “Okay boss man, you got it. Gut the fucker if he so much as breathes funny.” Havel was messing with their contact on purpose, his protective instincts toward Jozef kicking into gear. Jozef sighed but allowed it. He would talk to Havel later about not misinterpreting Jozef on purpose. They’d had the same conversation multiple times. It never seemed to stick.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” Zeke was quick to say. “We should get moving before the next patrol hits this area.”

  Jozef nodded. What do you want us to do?

  They talked specifics for a few minutes and once Jozef was satisfied, he gave the signal for the rest of his team to make an appearance. Zeke blanched as he was rapidly overtaken by a dozen mercenaries carrying enough weaponry to wipe a small country off the planet.

  They split the teams up, climbing into the backs of the vehicles, seven men per vehicle: two up front and five in the rear. Jozef changed Zeke’s original configuration to include one of Zeke’s men in the back with Jozef’s people and one of Jozef’s men up front with the driver. If Zeke’s men were split up, they would have a much more difficult time ambushing Jozef’s team.

  Not that Jozef was particularly worried; his team was too good to be easily taken by ex-bush soldiers turned muscle-for-hire.

  Jozef sat in the back of one of the jeeps with Zeke, Ali, Nikolay and Cooper. Halil sat up front with their driver. When Jozef saw Cooper climbing into his jeep, he’d nearly sent the American to the other jeep. The man was fucking chatty and he didn’t seem to have an off switch unless he was sleeping. But Jozef figured Havel was far more likely to shoot the man’s head off, so Jozef allowed him to stay.

  The drive was arduous to the point that Jozef wished Radik had just allowed them to walk the distance. His team was trained for hard hiking and could cover around 60 kilometers in a day with their equipment. Their meeting place was 30 kilometers across the border, but Radik wanted Jozef and his men escorted in and out.

  Jozef wasn’t sure if the man underestimated them or distrusted them, but he’d been forced to accept the escort if he wanted the job.

  The road was bumpy and, in places, so overgrown that there didn’t seem to be a road. He knew they were crossing the border at an unpatrolled point, but that didn’t mean the military wouldn’t have troops checking.

  Jozef glanced at Ali who was looking down at his travel laptop, open and balancing on his knees. Ali looked up and caught Jozef’s gaze. He already knew what Jozef wanted.

  Ali shook his head. “No movement other than us within a ten-kilometer radius of the route. There’s a five-minute lag though.”

  Jozef nodded his understanding. There was, of course, always a lag between the satellite transmission and the ground. Five minutes was a small window for troops to get in and ambush the trucks, but it was possible. Jozef preferred vigilance over faith.

  Keep watching, he signed.

  Ali refocused on the laptop, occasionally updating Jozef as they drove.

  When they arrived at Radik’s meeting point, the men climbed out of the trucks and fanned out in a previously discussed configuration. They’d been warned not to engage if they ran into any of Radik’s people while in the bushes. Radik had agreed he would be accompanied by only three men, all visible, but Jozef didn’t trust the man. Jozef didn’t trust any man except Havel, which was why he was still alive.

  A slight pang hit him as he thought of his uncle, but he quickly dismissed it. Perhaps he’d trusted Krystoff as a child, but his uncle had used Jozef and his team for years for his own purposes. And while Jozef had been a willing participant in the jobs, he hadn’t trusted his uncle to have their health and safety in mind. Jozef had compensated to cover for Krystoff’s blind spots. It was better that Jozef had split from the Kobas and took control of his team.

  Jozef refocused on the job as they waited for Radik to arrive. Everything went according to plan. Jozef’s team arrived exactly fifteen minutes before Radik’s. Radik’s group arrived in a truck that looked like the ones Jozef’s team had taken across the border.

  Jozef figured all of the men and trucks belonged to Radik, which put them firmly in Radik’s control. Or so the man would think. When Radik had talked about a team coming to pick up Jozef and his men to take them across the border, Jozef had suspected it was Radik’s way of putting more of his men in the field than the three Jozef had insisted on.

  What Radik didn’t know is that Jozef’s team had been briefed on every possible scenario including this one. They were expecting an ambush, even though it was unlikely Radik would draw them all the way out there just to kill them. Not when the man had enough resources to blow up Jozef’s club and the building it was in, killing most of Jozef’s team in one move.

  No, Jozef had done some checking on Radik and while the man was one of the deadliest mercenaries in the world with a body count higher than Jozef’s, the general word on the dark web was that he didn’t double cross his business associates. If he hired Jozef for a job, then he wanted Jozef to do that job. He wouldn’t go to the effort and expense of luring Jozef and his team into an ambush.

  Havel stood next to Jozef as Radik walked toward them, two of his own men at his back, all three of them carrying rifles.

  “Koba.” Radik extended his hand and Jozef took it, squeezing.

  Radik and Jozef spoke while Havel translated. Jozef respected that Radik spoke directly to him without pausing or stumbling over Jozef’s lack of voice. Jozef would bet his cut of the pay for the job that Radik didn’t underestimate him either. He knew the silent guard dog could and would strike without warning if provoked.

  Finally, they got around to the package.

  “You’ll have questions, I’m sure,” Radik said, his deep baritone voice serious. “Don’t ask them. You won’t get any answers. Do your job and deliver the package. I’ll transfer the pay once I know it’s safe.”

  At first, Jozef was insulted that Radik thought he would ask questions about a job that had already been discussed in detail. Then he felt uneasy. Radik would know that, which meant the package could only be one thing.

  Human cargo.

  Jozef growled, gaining Radik’s attention. He signed swiftly, making sure Havel could see. I told you, we don’t transport human cargo. You better not be fucking with me; I won’t take kindly to a change in our agreement.

  Radik had easily agreed to Jozef’s strictest term; he didn’t transport people. Now Jozef realized Radik had agreed to it too quickly. Most of Jozef’s other clients had questions about that term. For most it was curiosity, for some disappointment.

  Jozef lived in the underworld of the mafia, which meant he was surrounded by prostitution and human bondage. He’d become somewhat immune to the pathetic men, women and children caught up in the industry, but he refused to participate. His uncle had tried to talk him out of that particular term, arguing that it wasn’t Jozef’s job to judge their client’s activities, that they were leaving money on the table by not accepting human cargo jobs. Jozef had stood firm.

  Radik looked angry, but finally nodded. “I know your terms, and you must believe I understand. Even agree, to some extent. But I need you for this job and I’m not willing to compromise.”

  Jozef let out a vicious growl and lifted his hand to give his men the order to take Radik and his men out.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “You don’t want to do that,” Radik said calmly. “I have a missile aimed at this site and, like you, a satellite in orbit. If you make a move, I will have my people fire, and we all die together.”

  Jozef stared at the man, infuriated, tempted to call his bluff. There would be a five-minute lag between Radik’s satellite and his ground communications. Five minutes was plenty of time to clear out if a missile really was pointed at them. Only Jozef didn’t think Radik was bluffing. None of his research on the man had indicated he spoke anything but the truth to his clients.

  Radik stared Jozef down, finally saying in a low voice. “Is your distaste for human trafficking really stronger than your desire to live? Stronger than the lives of your men?”

  Though Havel knew the answer, he didn’t speak for Jozef. He didn’t need to; Radik could read the truth in Jozef’s eyes. He would rather die than transport humans to a life of misery.

  Radik straightened, running a hand over his forehead, which was beaded with sweat from the heat of the sun. “You are an interesting man, Jozef Koba. You would judge the business of others, silently condemning, while running around with this ragtag group, setting fire to the world in search of profit.”

  Jozef raised an eyebrow, not at all bothered by Radik’s assessment of his character. He’d seen the pictures of the aftermath of Radik’s own operations. He didn’t just kill people. He tortured them, psychologically and physically before murdering them and everyone they knew.

  Radik laughed, his demeanor growing lighter. “Lucky for us, I do not intend for you to transport flesh intended for the meat market. You will be transporting something far more precious.”

  Radik let out a whistle. One of his men opened the tailgate of a covered truck and reached inside. Though Jozef didn’t move a muscle, his team trained weapons on the back of the truck.

  A woman emerged, her head ducked low so she wouldn’t hit it as she allowed the man below her to lift her by the waist and set her on the ground. When she looked up, her gaze met Jozef’s. Her eyes were a rich dark brown, guileless, yet somehow also world-weary. Her hair was cut short against her scalp with an army green scarf pushed back on her head. She wore a pair of fatigue pants and a militaristic shirt. She was dressed the same as Radik’s men, but the outfit did nothing to hide the ripe curves beneath.

  Radik reached for her as she approached, taking her hand and drawing her forward. She looked to be in her late teens, perhaps around Saskia’s age. She dropped her eyes, staring at the dirt next to her boots. Jozef suspected there was no submission there; that she’d been told not to look at him or his team directly. She hadn’t had a problem staring boldly at him when Radik wasn’t looking.

  Radik continued to hold her hand, but before he could explain what was going on, she looked up and said something in a language Jozef didn’t recognize. It took seconds for Jozef to realize she was angry and not afraid to tell off the giant warlord. She jerked her hand from Radik’s and turned to face him, pointing a finger at his chest as she spoke.

  Jozef’s lips twitched and he had to clear his throat so as not to laugh out loud. Havel was experiencing the same struggle as he ran a hand over his face to wipe his amused expression away. It was fucking hilarious to watch the delicate woman who was at least a foot shorter than Radik tear a strip off him while he looked sheepish and refused to make eye contact, scuffing his shoe in the dirt. Jozef wondered if the woman was Radik’s wife and this was why he was sending her away.

  After a few minutes of listening to an extremely one-sided tirade, Jozef cleared his throat and stepped forward with a raised brow. Radik reacted swiftly, shoving the still chattering woman behind his back and pulling his weapon, training it on Jozef’s face.

  Jozef’s men reacted, pointing weapons at the pair, ready to fire on Jozef’s or Havel’s command.

  Jozef lifted his hands slowly in a ‘peace’ motion.

  It was abundantly clear that whoever the woman was, she meant a lot to the giant mercenary. He was willing to protect her with his life and the lives of his men. There was no way he’d be selling this woman.

  Finally, Radik lowered his weapon, but the scowl remained on his face.

  “Ayaan is my sister,” Radik explained. “You will ensure her safe passage to her handlers in France.”

  Jozef stared at Radik and finally nodded. He signed while Havel spoke. Since you’ve changed the parameters of our agreement, I will also make my own amendment. I want ten million on top of the 75 you agreed to, and you will explain why you need me and my team to take the girl to France. I want background before I agree to this.

  Though Jozef suspected he could work the reason out for himself he wanted details.

  Radik didn’t look happy but he didn’t have a choice except to answer Jozef’s questions if he wanted Jozef’s help.

  “Ayaan was born out of the union of my mother’s second marriage. A surprise to both our mother and myself, but a welcome one. She has been the joy in what could have been a very bleak existence. Both of her parents are now dead and she’s my responsibility, which is equal parts a pleasure and a burden.”

 

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