To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series) (27 page)

Her inner muscles exploded in spasms around him and her breath came in long surrendering moans. “Ah….”

Her body tensed and a twinge pricked his lower back. They were both so close. Her name left his lips in a victorious yell as they set each other ablaze. “Cassandra! God!”

“Yes! Trevor!” Her sheath squeezed him repeatedly, massaging, and milking him until, spent, he collapsed on her. He lay his head beside hers, face tucked at the sweet curve of her neck, chests heaving at the exertion, hearts beating a mile a minute.

After a few moments, Cassandra’s humor bubbled against his ear. He lifted his head to face her and found a pair of mischievous eyes staring back at him. “What?”

“Little Red Riding Hood? Really!?”

He laughed out loud and mimicked the voice again, “But, grandmother, what a dreadful big mouth you have! The better to eat you with…”

Her laughter rippled through the air. “God, you’re insane and I love you.”

Trevor rolled to the side and cradled her tight against him, brushing her brow with his lips. Her breathing grew shallow as she began drifting into sleep. “I love you, too, Cassie,” he repeated her words softly as she slid a leg between his and wrapped an arm over his chest.

Bruised Ego

T
REVOR’S GLANCE CUT TO CASSANDRA. She held the steaming cup of coffee between her hands as if it were an anchor. He could tell by the shadows in her eyes and the blank stare directed at her laptop’s darkened screen that her thoughts were in turmoil.

His adventure the night before had left his body achy and stiff. He felt as if he’d been passed through the wringer and spit out to dry. Earlier that morning he had assessed the damage to his back in the small bathroom mirror. The bruise sustained in the fall was taking on an ugly hue—a dark purple brand, rectangular in shape, taking a place of honor right smack between his shoulder blades. He grimaced at the thought of what Cassandra would say when she finally set eyes on it.

Since they had gotten up and jumped into work, she had avoided his gaze and all conversation. That was the first time since the day they’d met that Cassandra had been truly angry with him. The last months had been a rollercoaster of activity and adventure. They had gotten themselves into hot water before, but that last brush with the unexpected had shaken her badly and he couldn’t pinpoint why.

The silence was killing him. He missed the laughter and camaraderie they shared. Unable to handle the silence any longer, Trevor turned to face her and blatantly stared at her until she closed her eyes to avoid his gaze.

“You scared me last night,” she murmured.

“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry if I did.” Trevor tried to rationalize. “You do know that what we’re doing has risks. I can’t guarantee I won’t be harmed in the process. Neither of us can. You always knew that. Have you changed your mind? Do you want us to go home?”

The bitter taste of uncertainty filled his mouth and he wondered how he would move forward if she decided she’d had enough of his personal quest. A fist squeezed his heart at the thought of the choices he would have to make. As much as he was driven to find out what happened to his parents, he wasn’t willing to proceed with his search for answers if it meant destroying his relationship with Cassandra.

“Why would you think I’d want to quit over something so asinine? I’d never quit looking for them, Trevor. Neither will you.” She paused and he exhaled the breath he’d unknowingly held. “It’s something you need so you can move on…
we
can move on.” His wife was a wise and perceptive woman, even when angry. At that moment, he thanked the fates again for all the events that had put her in his life.

“To be honest, I think I was more frustrated than scared, sitting here, hands tied and unable to back you up. That daredevil sitting on your shoulder has become a permanent fixture.” She shook her head and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “It scares the shit out of me sometimes. We’re still working blind here, Trev. We don’t have a solid handle on the routine at the mansion.” She turned to look at him at last and held his gaze. “And you were up there. What if someone had driven up to the gate or left on foot from the property? What if you had fallen inside? Damn it, Trevor. You would have been dog meat for sure. No pun intended,” she blurted out.

Understanding her reasons didn’t make it any easier for Trevor to take them. “I’ll be putting my neck on the line again soon…are you sure you can handle that?” he asked her directly. No point in using half-truths or soften the reality that was to come.

“I’ll be fine,” she responded with a deep sigh. “I get the risks. I’ve lived those risks long before meeting you, and knew the risks when I finally accepted the fact that you were going to be a permanent part of my life. But that doesn’t mean I can’t give you shit for stupid antics like the one on the gate.”

Her tone and the look in her eyes clearly indicated she wouldn’t be forgetting his little stunt any time soon, and would definitely find ways to remind him of that— every chance she got. “Please tell me you won’t retaliate with another workout. Please, please don’t turn me into Chuck Norris.”

Cassandra stared at him with a blank expression on her face and, after a moment, shook her head and burst out laughing. Her humor quickly faded to a grim slash of lips and she booted her computer. “Nah. I called Bob instead. Once we finish this assignment, we’re heading to the States. You’ve been enrolled in Bob’s buddies’ Navy Seal Boot Camp for Geeks. His motto is, ‘We’ll knock the geek out of ‘em and some sense in.’”

It was Trevor’s turn to stare at her. Bob’s Navy Seal buddies were forces to be reckoned with, as Trevor had discovered upon their return from Paris. They were take-no-prisoner kind of guys. First-person shooter games were most likely modeled after those guys’ MO. “What the hell, Cassie? You did what?!”

Cassandra ignored his question with a shrug and switched gears on him. “What do we have from the cameras?”

Trevor grimaced. “You’d better be joking.” The glitter in her eyes gave him his answer and his heart settled in his chest. The tragedy of his early death had been averted.

Glad she was ready to get back into work, he filled her in. “We have several files from last night. Why don’t we go through them?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she answered, a trace of laughter still lingering in her voice.

Over the course of the next several hours, they combed the footage they’d collected. The activity from the cameras showed several so-called employees entering and leaving the mansion. Running the data from the feeds through facial recognition programs and pairing it with trivial information, such as license plates, helped them identify some of them.

Trevor pulled up George’s latest email reporting the activity from Mikhailov’s phone conversations. He sent back a reply, attaching the information they had compiled and screen captures from the surveillance videos with instructions to initiate some extra tapping on the new players.

George should be able to cross-reference the new names and their phone numbers with any previously recorded incoming or outgoing conversations sourced from the tapped phones in the mansion and from known associates of Mikhailov’s. Their hunt had grown into more than just a little game of hide-and-seek.

Salted Bread

I
T HAD BEEN FIVE DAYS since the cameras had been set, and they were finally getting the big picture of Mikhailov’s operation. Cassandra came up for air and rubbed her eyes. Reading through the new transcripts was a tedious but necessary evil. She glanced at the clock and couldn’t believe how time had flown. “Trev. Kostas should be here any minute.”

Almost as if on cue, the intercom buzzed. Cassandra pushed away from the table and, as she moved past Trevor, brushed her hands across his shoulders. “That should be him.”

Cassandra hit the button on the intercom on the wall by the door. “Yes?”

“Cassandra Bauer?”

“Yes?” she responded cautiously.

“It’s me, Kostas.”

“Kostas! Right on time. Come on up.” She buzzed him in.

When a knock sounded, Cassandra opened the door and came face to face with none other than the Russian her father had fondly spoken of when she was younger. Although he was about the same age as Robert, Boris looked older than she expected, with his salt-and-pepper receding hairline and slightly heavier physique.

“Cassandra! You were expecting me, no?”

“Kostas, welcome. Please come in.” She fully opened the door and Kostas walked in with a big smile on his face and a large bag dangling from his hand.

“Cassie! Daughter of my good friend Robert. I am so pleased to meet you at last.” He glanced sideways as Trevor joined them at the door. “Ah, this must be your husband.”

He gave them both bear hugs and handed the bag to Cassandra. Taking it, she was surprised at how heavy it was. Peering inside, she found two of the largest round loaves of bread she’d ever seen. She shot Kostas a questioning look and a flash of humor lit his eyes. “You’re wondering about the bread?”

She opened the bag wider so Trevor could see them.

“It is a Russian folk custom, honoring the emperor and empress when they would pay a visit to a village.” Kostas smiled and continued, “During their visit, the merchants and gentry of the area would present their guest with a round loaf of bread piled with salt as a sign of hospitality. We also give this gift to a new couple to wish that they always have the necessities of life, and as a housewarming gift to wish that their pantry will always be full. So you see, my gift, how do you say in America? Kills two birds with one stone? Housewarming, and, since you are newlyweds…well, you see.”

Pulling the round loaves from the bag and setting them on the table, Cassandra urged Trevor to test the weight of one of the loaves and suppressed a giggle at the surprised look on his face.

Trevor cleared his throat and glanced at Kostas. “How dense is your bread? Should I be afraid?”

Kostas’s eyes took on a sly gleam and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Ah, this is a good question,” he countered in heavily accented English as he reached for one of the loaves, pulled out a pocket knife, and carefully proceeded to cut into it.

Intrigued by his actions, Trevor and Cassandra moved closer. Suddenly Trevor burst out in a deep belly laugh, his twinkling eyes shot her way. “Oh yeah, Cassie. Definitely be afraid.”

“What the hell are you guys going on about?” Her gaze bounced from one man to the other. “The guns are in the bread? No freaking way,” she quipped, joining in the laughter as Trevor scooped the two standard issue P-443 Grach handguns from the cavity. “Damn. I was kind of looking forward to eating that bread,” she added, crestfallen.

Kostas’s grin grew even wider and he gave Cassandra a hug. “Your father said you would appreciate the gesture. I cannot wait to let him know how well it worked.”

“Oh man, we will never hear the end of that one for sure,” she laughed, releasing him. “You must stay awhile. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?” She tossed him a saucy grin. “Vodka?”

“Just a cup of tea for me, Cassandra,” Kostas guffawed.

She glanced to Trevor. “I’ll have the same,
a ghrá
.”

Trevor led Kostas to their sitting area while Cassandra left the two to their devices and headed for the kitchen.

Trevor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He casually studied Kostas, trying to read him before broaching the subject regarding the little employment opportunity he had in mind.

Kostas broke the silence first. “So, how do you like St. Petersburg?” The question hung in the air for just a brief moment before he added, “Not that you are here to see the many beautiful sights it has to offer.”

“What makes you think that?” Trevor was wary of the comment.

Kostas relaxed back in the chair. The vibe Trevor caught from him was more of a viper ready to strike at any moment.

“Not many tourists call for the type of delivery you did unless they were here for something other than pleasure.”