Page 1 of Wraith
Prologue
They say when someone was about to die, their life flashes before their eyes. Liam didn’t have the pleasure. All he had was darkness. Perhaps it was because his anger outweighed everything else. In frustration, he dragged his fingers through his dark hair, pushing the strands off his forehead. It didn’t escape him, he needed a haircut, but he looked Russian with it having some length
Liam stared at his reflection in the mirror—partly to ask himself what he was thinking taking this job and partly to remember what he looked like under all the smoke and mirrors. His green eyes were set with angry determination as he pressed the tiny silver phone against his ear.
When no answer came to either of his questions, Liam paced the room in frustration. He had been tracing the same man for three months. The drive to find Melora was unlike anything he’d ever felt. It was wild, all consuming—an obsession driving him almost to the brink of madness. It was his life’s work. Nothing else before this mattered and nothing after would. Now they wanted him to give it all up and leave.
Ivan Melora was bad news. He was the type of reprobate who sold drugs to children, pushed kids into sexual slavery and didn’t care who he harmed in the process. As long as the money kept rolling in, he didn’t mind scarring kids for life and ruining families.
Liam’s blood ran cold through him and to calm his racing heart, he folded the fingers of his free hand into a fist. Give up? How could they ask him to? Liam didn’t like the idea. The truth was, he didn’t want to leave until Melora was in jail or six feet under.
“We’re pullin’ you out,” John “Tex” Keegan said, his rich accent troubled. “It’s not safe.”
“What do you mean?” Liam Snyder growled. “Melora is still out there. We’re no closer to getting him than we were a year ago and you want me to leave?”
“I understand you want this guy, Wraith,” Wolf said from the other side of the world. “And I would be the first to applaud you when you do get him. But if you don’t get out now, you’re dead…”
“You’re being dramatic,” Liam pointed out. “It’s not like my cover’s been blown or anything. I haven’t compromised myself.”
Tex and Wolf went quiet.
Silence wasn’t at all like them.
“Guys?” Liam asked. “What’s going on?”
“Um—Wraith, your cover’s been blown.” Wolf was the first to speak up.
Liam’s heart sank. He stopped pacing the room and arched a brow. Those were the words an agent never wanted to hear when under such deep cover.
“Head to the embassy in Moscow,” Wolf advised. “I don’t know how yet, but we’ll extract you.”
Liam was numb. For a moment, he’d even forgotten he was on the phone.
“Did you hear me, Liam?” Wolf questioned urgently. “Did you hear what I just said? Get out now. You’ve been made. I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t have people coming to you as we speak.”
“How…how?”
“I don’t know. I think we have a leak,” Wolf said. “Tex is already working out the logistics. The only thing is, we can only get you help in Moscow without starting a new cold war.”
A knock came at the door. Liam swung around to face it. He frowned and flipped the phone closed before Wolf or Tex could say anything else. His heart raced.
He moved without focusing on any of the blasting red alert alarms inside his head. Nerves could get him killed and Liam did not intend on dying in some sketchy hotel in ass-fuck-nowhere Russia.
He moved quickly and quietly across the room out of the range of the peep hole. He wanted whoever was knocking to think he wasn’t there or he was taking some time to answer the door. It wasn’t a friend knocking. No one knew he was there—well, no one but Wolf and Tex. In the neighbourhood, someone didn’t just walk up to a strange door and started knocking.
Making such a mistake cost lives.
Moving like a crab, he picked up his always packed bag and shoved his arms into it before slipping out the balcony door. He stayed low and glanced over the railing. They were all standing there, waiting. At first, he was disappointed they thought he was so stupid as to rush out the back without checking. But then he shook his head to bring himself back to reality. These people wanted him to die—slow and painful or quick and painless—they didn’t care how.
Liam pressed his back against the filthy wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He had to find a way out without going out the front or the back. The knockers were getting more impatient by the second and were banging on the front door.
A decision had to be made—fast. As much as he hated the fact, the front door was the only way out. They wouldn’t have brought many men. There were way too many eyes around.
In that second, it dawned on him, he was way too old for this mess. Liam fidgeted with the straps of his back pack and then inhaled. He held the breath, exhaled and looked around one final time, a way of ensuring nothing was left behind to track him. He then took off running in a sprint for the locked door. Leaping in the air, He slammed into the door feet first. The impact caused the wood to splinter outward.
The men waiting outside screamed in pain—perhaps because of flying splinters to the face. Liam didn’t care. His brain was focused on getting out of there without a bullet.
To take the pressure off his feet and hips, Liam hit the ground and rolled before springing to his feet. Someone grabbed him around the waist. Liam planted himself then shoved backward until they both stopped against a wall. His captor grunted but it had the desired effect. The man’s arms loosened, and Liam took advantage by sinking his nails into the man’s arms. He gained his freedom but knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet.
