Page 100 of Canyon of Deceit
“She is his weak spot,” Sergio said more to himself than us.
I spoke up. “The live video from tonight showed she’s in a clean place.”
“Would he take her back to Russia? He is her uncle,” Therese said. “To continue blackmailing Rurik?”
Sergio leaned on one leg. “What value is he sitting behind bars?”
I broke into their conversation. “We’re running in circles, like Falin is leading us by a leash. If he fails to show on Monday evening, we have only hours to renegotiate Alina’s release and protect the Baranovs. Sergio, you’ve told me the Feds are working on Edik Baranov and his family’s arrival. I don’t have a good feeling about any of this.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
THERESE
Against my better judgment, I slept in the third FBI-protected housing in three days. Musical beds. I’d argued, begged, and finally gave in to Blane and Major Montoya, who pointed out the danger of returning to my own home. We bartered, and I agreed to a two-bedroom apartment without protection, other than Blane in the next room and twenty-four-hour surveillance in the parking lot. The inappropriateness hit me hard, but Alina could be rescued today, and Blane and I weren’t in any shape to give in to any romantic feelings we might have had for each other.
Someone once said, “Disagree with me, and I’ll find a way to destroy you.” That quote fit Falin’s philosophy of life, but I strongly disagreed. I had more prayer power than he’d ever imagined.
Grabbing my phone on the nightstand, I read 11:35 a.m. The morning had slipped by—with no rattle of activity. My thoughts moved to the agents assigned to protect us and both hurt in the attack late last night. I prayed for their healing and no one else to look down the wrong end of a gun.
I rolled onto my back, inwardly groaning with every aching muscle and bruise. I should get up. Be productive. Check on Blane. Work on the next stage of rescuing Alina. I treasured my country anddetested what the ROC planned, but I’d gotten into this mess to free the little girl. Let the big guns handle the big guns.
How did I stop the bloodshed and help an innocent little girl? Other than a few self-defense moves that were useless with the condition of my body, I had no skills to offer. Closing my eyes, I slipped into a dreamy state where Kate’s image blended with Alina’s. Yes, the similarity of their physical traits drew me to Alina, and like Kate, Alina had a fearless streak.
It hit me. Falin wanted me, and the shooters hadn’t saiddead.He hadn’t killed me in the cave, so did that mean she’d be unharmed in his custody? If talking to me was so important, then I’d hear him out. Not necessarily smart. But desperation led to desperate measures. Kate might have lived if I’d done more, and I learned the hard way that others always came first. My life had never been about me. Pulling my charger from my backpack, I plugged in my phone near the nightstand. Later I’d need it.
I crept out of bed into a bathroom across the hall. I dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and brushed my hair into a ponytail. I opened the door, smelled the heavenly aroma of coffee, and crept down the short hallway to the combo kitchen and living area.
Blane read something from his phone and smiled at me with those incredible eyes and tousled red hair. “Morning, sunshine.”
“Morning. Today you are Rusty.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “That bad? I planned to shower when you crawled out of bed.”
“You look fine, just bed hair. Nothing pressing on my end.” I gave him my best smile. “Go ahead and shower.” Guilt lingered for what I planned, and I opened a cabinet door. “Need coffee?”
“I’m good.”
He asked the typical how-are-you questions, and I asked mine.
“Both of our agents underwent surgery to remove bullets and are in ICU holding their own. The prognosis is good.”
“Glad I prayed for them.”
“That makes two of us.” He rose from the chair. “I’m going to jump into the shower. Will you be okay?”
“Yes. Later on, will you update me on anything according to protocol?”
“Yep, partner.” He walked by and brushed his fingers across mine. Electricity fired through me. Not even my own father cared like Blane demonstrated. And I treasured every moment with him. How had I given my heart so easily in such a short time? Staying much longer in this apartment would have alarm bells ringing.
I sipped coffee until the shower water alerted me to the time. Snatching my backpack and stuffing in my phone and charger, I slipped out the front door onto an outdoor hallway. A hint of chilly air under a clear, blue sky refreshed me. I searched the parking area. Ah, the agents assigned to watch the apartment sat in a dark Chevy with tinted windows in the parking lot.
Back inside the apartment, I exited a rear glass door onto a balcony overlooking a narrow strip of weeds and a tire shop. We were on the second floor. What should I do? I didn’t want to face Blane with my decision. I’d wiggled down steeper rocks than this. Swinging my leg over the wobbly metal fencing, I shimmied to the point where I jumped into the weeds. Oh, did my body complain.
Moments later, I hurried down the street. At an intersection, the street signs indicated the west side of Houston. I walked five more blocks and stopped in a coffee shop and plugged in my phone. I should be afraid of where my thoughts had led me, but fear and I courted a love-hate relationship.
Step one meant talking to Rurik, and all I had was his burner number from our original conversation. I risked the agents assigned to his home refusing to put me through without FBI approval. But the agents approved with no questions asked. They’d learn about the conversation later.
“Rurik, this is Therese. I need a favor. Can you call me on a separate phone?”
