Charade (15 page)

All because you’re too inept to use the video feed recyclers,
she complained to herself, but she knew it wasn’t entirely her fault. The NSA’s printed instructions had been subtle by necessity, and had assumed some basic knowledge of electronics that she simply didn’t have. Even if she had mastered the theory, she would need to find the central feed box to attach them, so she’d still need to impersonate an officer as she roamed that section of the castle.

Now for the final step in the charade,
she told herself, slipping into her long black wool coat,
then
pulling a bright blue stocking cap over her head, hiding her unusual hairstyle. She had told Nikko she was going outside, so it would make sense to him, or to Vlad, if they saw her dressed for the outdoors. She might even take a quick look around out there first, just to check out other exits. If by some miracle Teal was able to leave right away, they’d be much better off getting to the outside quickly.

Of course, what they’d do then was anyone’s guess. Still, if the opportunity presented itself, Sasha was ready to go for it.

Especially if Teal’s superpowers are in high gear,
she encouraged herself as she left the safety of her room and walked down the long hall leading toward the castle entry. Rather than use the grand receiving hall through which she had entered the day before, she planned on taking a side door that Vlad had pointed out to her on the tour. He claimed that in summer it led to a beautiful garden, but in winter, the small yard was bleak, serving mostly as a quick route to the guest cottages and the parking area.

As was her habit in winter, she pulled her leather gloves out of her pockets and slipped them onto her hands just as she approached the door. Then she buttoned the top button of her coat, braced herself and stepped outside.

But nothing could have prepared her for the blast of icy wind that hit her full in the face, causing her to gasp as her throat closed in self-protection. It took a few seconds to realize that it was really just a breeze that had greeted her. The shock had actually come from the stinging, subzero air itself.

“You’re right, Vlad. Chicago didn’t prepare me for this,” she croaked, pulling her collar higher on her neck, and wondering if her nose was as red as it felt. Or maybe it was blue like her hat!

She was light-headed, and reminded herself that altitude could be a factor, as well. But if that was going to be a problem, she needed to know about it now, so she resisted the urge to dash back inside. Instead, she followed a narrow path that had been dug through the snow, leading out toward the cottages, which seemed deserted, just as Vlad had claimed. The parking lot was empty, too, except for a smattering of jeeps and snowmobiles.

She was about to take a new path along the side of the castle, hoping to find an alternate entrance to the office area, when she realized that a black Hummer was approaching from the direction of the border. Instead of driving toward the castle, it turned onto a narrow lane that led to one of the cottages.

So?
Someone’s staying there after all?
she
asked herself, changing directions to catch a better glimpse. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the stinging air, and she could see that Vlad and Nikko were standing in a courtyard between two of the guesthouses. The Hummer pulled up and a driver alighted, hurrying to open the rear door of the vehicle. A tall man in a dark coat, dark hat and sunglasses got out and strode right up to Vlad, shaking his hand heartily.

This guy must be mega important—or need extra privacy—to merit a cottage in winter,
she told herself, edging even closer. But it wasn’t really the man who interested her.

It was his car.

And to think you were actually considering those stupid snowmobiles as escape vehicles!
she
teased herself.
This is more like it.

Allison Gracelyn had warned her that the NSA didn’t dare wait for her and Teal at the border. For one thing, they didn’t know exactly when Sasha would make her move, and for another, they would attract attention, putting Vlad on alert even more than he already was. So the NSA had provided the locations of three safe houses in the area surrounding Kestonia. Assuming Sasha and Teal made a clean escape, they needed to keep moving for another hour or so at least before they actually reached safety.

So why not in a Hummer?

After the three men had conversed in front of the cottage for a few more moments, Vlad shook the stranger’s hand again and strode back with Nikko toward the parking lot, where they climbed into a jeep and took off.

The new arrival, however, didn’t go inside just yet. Instead, he watched as his driver and another civilian unloaded his luggage, which they carried into the house while their boss wandered around, appearing to study his environment closely.

Either he’s worried about his safety, or this is all new to him. Or both,
Sasha reasoned.
But he must be here for the conference, right?
Or the ball?
Which means, you’ll meet him eventually.
And since you need to get your hands on his keys if you want to escape in the Hummer, why not introduce yourself now?

Hoping that he was a crime boss familiar with her father’s work, she took a deep breath and quickly crossed the remainder of the parking lot until she was on the edge of the courtyard, where the Hummer driver appeared out of nowhere, stepping between her and his boss, his expression menacing.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “I just came by to meet the new neighbors. I love your car, by the way.”

When the man just stared at her, she murmured, “Do you speak English?”

“Sasha?” a voice from behind the driver asked softly. “Is that you?”

The driver stepped aside, his hand still tucked inside his coat in a gesture that warned Sasha he had a gun. As he did so, his boss removed his sunglasses, and she gasped at the shockingly familiar face.

“Zio Dante?
Dio mio!
Are you really here?”

Part of her wanted to ask a million questions. Part wanted to run away.

But instincts inherited from Franco Bracciali sent her in the opposite direction, right into Vincenzo the Butcher’s arms.
“Oh my God!
You’ll never know how happy I am to see you.”

“È giusto,”
Dante murmured to his driver, waving him away as he hugged Sasha warmly. “I am surprised to see you, too.”

“My father didn’t tell me you were attending the conference. It’s such a relief. I feel like such a fool for coming here alone.”

Dante pushed her to arm’s length, then nodded. “I was told your cousin Mark would be representing Big Frankie’s interest.”

“Change of plans. I wanted to go to the ball, so I conned Dad into sending me instead. I must have been out of my mind. Have you ever felt such cold weather? Or seen such a desolate landscape? And General Zelasko—well, don’t even get me started on
him.
”

Dante beamed. “Come inside. We’ll have an espresso and talk.”

Inside?
Too late she remembered that she was wearing a Kestonian uniform! So she told him quickly, “I definitely want to visit. But I just stepped out for a minute to get some air. If you can call it that! I’m supposed to be practicing for my speech this afternoon. Daddy brought me up to speed on most of his business, but I want to do it just right. And I want to
look
good, too, which means I’ve got to do my hair and nails.” She grinned and added, “I already feel more confident, just knowing there’ll be a friendly face in the audience.”

“Regrettably, I won’t be there, Sasha.”

“Pardon?”

He sighed. “I’m not here for the conference. I needed someplace to hide that was completely out of reach of the authorities. I’m a hunted man. And—” his gaze penetrated hers “—I have been betrayed.”

“Oh, no.
How awful.”

He nodded, still watching her closely. “No one must know I’m here.”

“I won’t tell a soul, I promise.” She bit her lip. “At the wedding, you said you live in Rome. If it’s not safe there anymore, why not go back to Chicago where my father and my uncle Antonio can help you?”

He hesitated,
then
asked her, “Do you remember a man named Vincenzo Martino?”

“Of course.
I adored him. He used to bring me cannolis and tell me wonderful stories about the Roman gods and goddesses. He disappeared a long time ago and—oh!” She took a step backward, knowing that her expression showed shock and fear. After all, she
was
afraid. In fact, she was terrified of what this man might have guessed about her role in his unmasking.

When his gaze softened, just a little, she dared move closer again. “Is it really you? Oh my God, you look so different. But I knew your voice sounded familiar.” Smiling shyly, she added, “I guess I really did win that bet with Carmine.”

He gave a pained smile. “The feds were after me, so I had surgery. Then I lived in Palermo for years, perfectly safe. Now I’m stuck in this godforsaken place until we discover who
ratted
me out.”

“Could it have been your surgeon? That’s what always happens in mystery stories.”

“It was someone at the wedding,” Dante corrected her firmly. “I’m almost sure of that.”

Sasha pursed her lips,
then
nodded. “I think so, too.”

“Really?”

She nodded again, this time as if the very thought made her angry. “I had a bad feeling that day. Didn’t Carmine tell you? I
knew
something was wrong.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me why.”

“It’s like I told him that day. I’d been to his house hundreds of times. But I never once saw muscle outside the door to my uncle’s study. Not even during the drug war. Not until that afternoon. It sent the worst shiver down my spine.” She sandwiched Dante’s face between her hands. “You’re safe here, uncle. Vlados is so powerful, he’s practically omnipotent. No one would dare harm you. You have to stay inside the cottage, though.
Especially for the next few days.
You know why, right? This place will be teeming with strangers by this afternoon, and it’ll be even worse when they start arriving for the ball. Promise me you’ll stay inside.”

“You’re scolding me?” He smiled proudly. “Your mother used to do that, too. Warn us not to take chances.”

“She was right,” Sasha retorted. Then she sighed wistfully. “I’d better get back to the castle. I ticked off the generalissimo last night, romantically speaking, so I’m sort of in the doghouse. I’m hoping I’ll redeem myself if I do a good job this afternoon. I wish you could be there for moral support. Maybe when it’s over, we can have that visit.”

“The barbarian is interested in you?” Dante frowned. “I don’t blame him, but he’d better be careful. He may be a powerful ruler, but you’re still Big Frankie Bracciali’s daughter.”

“That’s what I told him last night. He backed off pretty quickly. It was kind of flattering, actually.
Just a little too much, too fast if you get my drift.”

Dante’s scowl deepened. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No, no!” She gave a light laugh. “What good is it to attend a fancy ball if the handsome prince is afraid to dance with me?”

Dante laughed, too.
“Typical woman.
You want his attention, but on
your
terms. As your uncle, I approve.”

She kissed his cheek. “I’d better go. Promise me you’ll stay inside. And call Carmine right away. Ask him about those two thugs who were guarding zio Antonio’s study, especially the one with the scar. I didn’t like his attitude.”

Dante grinned. “We’ll follow that up. Come for a visit soon.”

“I will. I promise.” She waved, then turned and trudged back to the parking lot, where she chose the path that led to the part of the castle dedicated to official Kestonian business.

Her heart had been pumping so wildly during the entire exchange with the
Butcher,
the cold weather had stopped bothering her. Even now, her senses were on full alert.

He didn’t seem to suspect her of having betrayed him. Instead, he seemed to honestly believe that she hadn’t recognized him as Vincenzo until today. Still, the possibility that he would begin to wonder about her…

That’s crazy,
she scolded herself.
The fact that you’re here doesn’t make you any more of a suspect than you ever were. No one knew Dante was coming here. Of course, once you tell Jeff, and the authorities raid this place, Vincenzo will know for sure who did it. And this time, you won’t be able to charm your way out of it.

It was a sobering development, one that could send her into a witness protection program for the rest of her life. Ratting out Vincenzo Martino once could get you killed.
Ratting
him out twice? That would require his men to send the world a message worthy of the Butcher himself.

As she neared the door to the office section, she saw that a guard was posted there, although he didn’t seem very alert. He was staring off into the distance, and Sasha decided to follow his example and study her surroundings for a moment.

The area on which the fortress was located was actually an enormous ledge on the side of the mountain, making it virtually impenetrable. On the slopes below, Sasha could see signs of villages and farms. Above her, one hundred yards or so up the
mountain,
was a dilapidated church. Past that point there was nothing but rock and snow.

Nothing except a flat black door built right into the mountain itself about three hundred yards above her. She had read about it in the guide books and knew it led to an armory, which reminded her of Allison’s comment that Sasha would need to “arm herself” after she got to the fortress.

So far, she hadn’t even managed to score a butter knife! Not that it mattered. Without the requisite training, a firearm—other than a pistol—wouldn’t do her much good.

Returning her attention to the guard, she noticed that there was a panel beside him, imbedded in the stone wall, just like the one she had seen next to the gate in the tunnel.