Beautiful Russian Monster: Chapter 3

Blaire Asterdam, heiress and my current hostage, was right. I was a monster. When I had stood beside her bed, watching her sleep, I had to harden my heart against the task that lay ahead of me. Asleep, she had been so soft and peaceful, a mystical member of the opposite sex that I felt driven to protect. That I could override those feelings for the sake of my mission was the very thing that made me a monster.

Drake was as dirty as they came, and I knew her life would become infinitely worse when she came under his control. She wasn’t my responsibility, but somehow she was beginning to feel like it.

I needed to think of Olivia and Andrusha. Their safety had to be my only objective. I checked my watch. It might have felt like the longest hike of my life, but we were ahead of schedule.

She slipped, and I reached out to grab her, much like a parent grabs a toddler about to hit the ground, but she connected with a tree branch and managed to get her balance back.

I had been expecting a hysterical woman who would need to be sedated and carried off the property. I had not anticipated that she would be feisty as hell, that she would comply with my demands, and that she would endure a hike that most soldiers would struggle with.

Every time she almost wiped out, I begrudgingly respected the way she pulled herself back to her feet and kept moving. She had the kind of grit I looked for in a soldier.

Maybe she would be able to handle Drake.

Maybe she was responsible for her grandfather’s disappearance.

Maybe, if I told myself enough lies, I would be able to justify this illegal extraction.

We reached my camouflaged Jeep. She watched as I pulled off the large branches and then opened the passenger door.

“Give me your hands,” I said in a gruff voice. I put my mini flashlight in my mouth so I could see the handcuffs better.

She held out two of the most delicate little hands I had seen on a woman. The soft skin was marred with deep red scratches, mud, and blood.

Fuck. My gut rolled as I realized what a mess her hands were from the hike I had forced on her. I pushed up the sleeves of her jacket to get a better look at her arms. Her coat, all of it, was completely soaked. I studied her. She was drenched and continuously shivering. Maybe it was shock, maybe she had gotten too chilled, but, whatever the cause, she was on the brink of hypothermia.

Instead of handcuffing her, I unzipped her coat and stuck my hands on her ribs.

“What are you doing?” she gasped. She tried to step back.

Her sweater was soaking wet, too. I needed to get her warm—fast.

“Take off your clothes.”

She wrapped shaking arms over her chest. “No.”

I reached into the truck and pulled a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt out of my bag. “Now.”

Her big eyes watched me like a small animal tracking a predator. “No.”

“Two minutes, or I’ll do it for you.”

She didn’t know that my threat was empty. I would never force her to undress, but she seemed to believe me, because she looked petrified. “Don’t look.”

Then she turned her back on me and slowly began to undress.

To give her the respect she had earned, I kept my eye on her just long enough to know she wasn’t going to try anything. But with each micro-glance I gave her, I saw something different. The slender curve of her shoulders. Her delicate feet. The way her entire body was shivering with cold.

She was so petite she damn near drowned in my clothes. When she was dressed, I had her climb into the passenger seat. I waited until she’d put on her seat belt before I cuffed her beaten-up hands to the door. Once I was in the driver’s seat, I reached behind the seat and pulled out my emergency blanket. I tossed it on her lap, turned the heater on high, and started driving along the old logging road.

I thought she’d be firing questions at me, but she seemed focused on trying to pull the blanket over her body. Eventually, her shivers subsided. I glanced over at her. She was tucked into a ball and had fallen asleep. Considering the stress of the situation, and the incredible hike she had endured while her body fought the cold, it was no wonder that she had shut down and found sleep the moment her body warmed up. I’d seen it a thousand times on the battlefield—it’s how survival works.

I checked my watch again. It was almost 4 a.m. Now I needed to call Drake so we could arrange to meet.

One heiress in exchange for two of my people.

I didn’t get cell reception until we hit the highway.

He answered immediately. “Do you have her?”

“Yes.”

“There is a motel on the north side of Squamish called Pine Spirits.”

“I know it.”

“We’re waiting for you.”

The phone disconnected in my ear. Mother. Fucker.

She was awake and staring at me with big eyes.

“Don’t say a word,” I told her.

She didn’t have to say a word. Her accusatory stare said it all.

I felt an irrational need to defend my actions. “I don’t know these men. They took my friends. I bring you to them, they return my friends.”

“Why me? Why do they want me?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” She fell silent when I pulled into the parking lot of the motel. There were two black SUVs parked at the far end of the lot.

I parked on the opposite end. I could see Drake standing alone in the shadows, but I knew there were more men planted around the property. I couldn’t see Andrusha or Olivia, but that didn’t mean they weren’t here.

“Is that him?” Her voice sounded small and petrified. “I don’t know him. Who is he? What does he want?”

I worked to harden myself against the fear in her voice. “Whatever business your family has with Drake is none of my concern.”

She gasped. “We don’t have any business with him! Why are you doing this?”

I grabbed her soft chin and forced her to look at me. “I’m not doing anything. I’m reacting to the ransom that was put on my friends’ heads tonight because of your family drama.”

Anger sparked in her eyes. “A sane person calls the police when someone gets kidnapped.”

“Yeah? How’s that working out for your grandfather?”

Her eyes spit fire, but her bottom lip trembled. “Bastard.”

I moved away from her and opened the door. “You got that right.”

“Don’t leave me here,” she begged, but I slammed the door on her words. Damn. When people talk about Stockholm syndrome, they always empathize with the hostages, but in my experience, the assailant has it a hundred times worse. In the end, the hostage taker has to be the bad guy, and no one likes that role. I needed this night to end.

I walked over to Drake. I could feel his men in the shadows, even if I couldn’t see them. I didn’t care. I was reaching the end of my rope, and I just wanted to get this over with. Usually I was good at staying calm, but in that moment I was fighting a range of emotions that simmered beneath my ice-cold rage.

“Where’s Andrusha?” I growled.

“There’s been a change of plans.”

A change of plans meant my friends were dead. Cold resignation washed over me. Now I would kill this motherfucker, and then his men would probably kill me.

I wanted to pulverize his face. “That’s not what I agreed to.”

“Relax—your friends are safe.”

I didn’t believe him. I inhaled slowly. “Prove it.”

He nodded at someone, and a few moments later, I could hear my burner phone ring.

Without taking my eyes off Drake, I answered the phone in Russian. “Viktor here.”

“You okay?” Andrusha’s voice sounded in my ear, steady and calm.

Something cracked inside of me, and relief flooded my body. “Olivia?”

“She’s fine. It’s somehow connected to you and Beirut.” Andrusha spoke quickly.

“How?”

I heard an angry noise from someone on Andrusha’s end, and then the line went dead. Leave it to Andrusha to be as cryptic as fuck and ten steps ahead of everyone. He had figured something out, and a memory of something that had happened, or almost happened, to me in Beirut was my warning. Too bad I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

I turned my attention to Drake. “What is this bullshit?”

“We need your assistance in another matter.”

“We had a deal. I bring the woman to you, you let my friends go.”

“Deals change.”

I had only worked twice in Beirut. Both of those situations had gone to hell. But they had been completely unrelated, and I couldn’t see any obvious connection to tonight’s scenario either. “What do you want?”

“We know who took Mr. Asterdam.”

What happened in Beirut? What am I supposed to remember? “And I care… why?”

“Blaire’s grandfather was in Manila and about to retrieve something of interest for us from one of his cargo ships. But on his way to the ship, he was abducted.”

“Still don’t care.”

“She’s the only one who can get what we need off that ship.”

I gave him a curious look. “Why?”

His expression was pained. “We sent someone in to look for it, but they couldn’t find it. We heard, however, that she’ll know where her grandfather hid it.”

“Says who?”

“We have our sources.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t miss the bureaucratic bullshit that came along with the military. “Why not just fly her there yourself?”

“Unfortunately, this entire situation has become a bit too hot for those above me. We can’t have any record of this. That means no legal borders, no passports—no trace back to us.”

It took me a few moments to process the magnitude of what he was suggesting. “You need me to smuggle her into some Asian country so she can steal something off one of her grandfather’s ships for you?”

“Basically.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then I make a phone call, and your friends suffer.”

I turned and looked back at Blaire. This was how the game was played. I had pulled the exact same tactics on her to get her away from her home. I’d threatened the people she loved so she would comply with my demands. And for my efforts, she would probably be killed too. Guilt washed over me as she glared at me through the windshield. “If we do this for you, will you help her grandfather?”

He sounded amused. “Oh shit, is that fucking empathy?”

I had no idea why I was even bargaining for her grandfather’s life, but I lied. “I need her motivated.”

“Tell her whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care.”

“Where is he?”

“That’s the sad part of this story. We can’t save ol’ granddad.”

“You don’t know who’s got him.”

His tone hardened. “We’re working on it.”

I rubbed one hand down my face. This night had become one ugly, steaming mess. “What exactly are you asking me to retrieve?”

“That’s above your pay grade.”

Blaire Asterdam, heiress and my current hostage, was right. I was a monster. When I had stood beside her bed, watching her sleep, I had to harden my heart against the task that lay ahead of me. Asleep, she had been so soft and peaceful, a mystical member of the opposite sex that I felt driven to protect. That I could override those feelings for the sake of my mission was the very thing that made me a monster.

Drake was as dirty as they came, and I knew her life would become infinitely worse when she came under his control. She wasn’t my responsibility, but somehow she was beginning to feel like it.

I needed to think of Olivia and Andrusha. Their safety had to be my only objective. I checked my watch. It might have felt like the longest hike of my life, but we were ahead of schedule.

She slipped, and I reached out to grab her, much like a parent grabs a toddler about to hit the ground, but she connected with a tree branch and managed to get her balance back.

I had been expecting a hysterical woman who would need to be sedated and carried off the property. I had not anticipated that she would be feisty as hell, that she would comply with my demands, and that she would endure a hike that most soldiers would struggle with.

Every time she almost wiped out, I begrudgingly respected the way she pulled herself back to her feet and kept moving. She had the kind of grit I looked for in a soldier.

Maybe she would be able to handle Drake.

Maybe she was responsible for her grandfather’s disappearance.

Maybe, if I told myself enough lies, I would be able to justify this illegal extraction.

We reached my camouflaged Jeep. She watched as I pulled off the large branches and then opened the passenger door.

“Give me your hands,” I said in a gruff voice. I put my mini flashlight in my mouth so I could see the handcuffs better.

She held out two of the most delicate little hands I had seen on a woman. The soft skin was marred with deep red scratches, mud, and blood.

Fuck. My gut rolled as I realized what a mess her hands were from the hike I had forced on her. I pushed up the sleeves of her jacket to get a better look at her arms. Her coat, all of it, was completely soaked. I studied her. She was drenched and continuously shivering. Maybe it was shock, maybe she had gotten too chilled, but, whatever the cause, she was on the brink of hypothermia.

Instead of handcuffing her, I unzipped her coat and stuck my hands on her ribs.

“What are you doing?” she gasped. She tried to step back.

Her sweater was soaking wet, too. I needed to get her warm—fast.

“Take off your clothes.”

She wrapped shaking arms over her chest. “No.”

I reached into the truck and pulled a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt out of my bag. “Now.”

Her big eyes watched me like a small animal tracking a predator. “No.”

“Two minutes, or I’ll do it for you.”

She didn’t know that my threat was empty. I would never force her to undress, but she seemed to believe me, because she looked petrified. “Don’t look.”

Then she turned her back on me and slowly began to undress.

To give her the respect she had earned, I kept my eye on her just long enough to know she wasn’t going to try anything. But with each micro-glance I gave her, I saw something different. The slender curve of her shoulders. Her delicate feet. The way her entire body was shivering with cold.

She was so petite she damn near drowned in my clothes. When she was dressed, I had her climb into the passenger seat. I waited until she’d put on her seat belt before I cuffed her beaten-up hands to the door. Once I was in the driver’s seat, I reached behind the seat and pulled out my emergency blanket. I tossed it on her lap, turned the heater on high, and started driving along the old logging road.

I thought she’d be firing questions at me, but she seemed focused on trying to pull the blanket over her body. Eventually, her shivers subsided. I glanced over at her. She was tucked into a ball and had fallen asleep. Considering the stress of the situation, and the incredible hike she had endured while her body fought the cold, it was no wonder that she had shut down and found sleep the moment her body warmed up. I’d seen it a thousand times on the battlefield—it’s how survival works.

I checked my watch again. It was almost 4 a.m. Now I needed to call Drake so we could arrange to meet.

One heiress in exchange for two of my people.

I didn’t get cell reception until we hit the highway.

He answered immediately. “Do you have her?”

“Yes.”

“There is a motel on the north side of Squamish called Pine Spirits.”

“I know it.”

“We’re waiting for you.”

The phone disconnected in my ear. Mother. Fucker.

She was awake and staring at me with big eyes.

“Don’t say a word,” I told her.

She didn’t have to say a word. Her accusatory stare said it all.

I felt an irrational need to defend my actions. “I don’t know these men. They took my friends. I bring you to them, they return my friends.”

“Why me? Why do they want me?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” She fell silent when I pulled into the parking lot of the motel. There were two black SUVs parked at the far end of the lot.

I parked on the opposite end. I could see Drake standing alone in the shadows, but I knew there were more men planted around the property. I couldn’t see Andrusha or Olivia, but that didn’t mean they weren’t here.

“Is that him?” Her voice sounded small and petrified. “I don’t know him. Who is he? What does he want?”

I worked to harden myself against the fear in her voice. “Whatever business your family has with Drake is none of my concern.”

She gasped. “We don’t have any business with him! Why are you doing this?”

I grabbed her soft chin and forced her to look at me. “I’m not doing anything. I’m reacting to the ransom that was put on my friends’ heads tonight because of your family drama.”

Anger sparked in her eyes. “A sane person calls the police when someone gets kidnapped.”

“Yeah? How’s that working out for your grandfather?”

Her eyes spit fire, but her bottom lip trembled. “Bastard.”

I moved away from her and opened the door. “You got that right.”

“Don’t leave me here,” she begged, but I slammed the door on her words. Damn. When people talk about Stockholm syndrome, they always empathize with the hostages, but in my experience, the assailant has it a hundred times worse. In the end, the hostage taker has to be the bad guy, and no one likes that role. I needed this night to end.

I walked over to Drake. I could feel his men in the shadows, even if I couldn’t see them. I didn’t care. I was reaching the end of my rope, and I just wanted to get this over with. Usually I was good at staying calm, but in that moment I was fighting a range of emotions that simmered beneath my ice-cold rage.

“Where’s Andrusha?” I growled.

“There’s been a change of plans.”

A change of plans meant my friends were dead. Cold resignation washed over me. Now I would kill this motherfucker, and then his men would probably kill me.

I wanted to pulverize his face. “That’s not what I agreed to.”

“Relax—your friends are safe.”

I didn’t believe him. I inhaled slowly. “Prove it.”

He nodded at someone, and a few moments later, I could hear my burner phone ring.

Without taking my eyes off Drake, I answered the phone in Russian. “Viktor here.”

“You okay?” Andrusha’s voice sounded in my ear, steady and calm.

Something cracked inside of me, and relief flooded my body. “Olivia?”

“She’s fine. It’s somehow connected to you and Beirut.” Andrusha spoke quickly.

“How?”

I heard an angry noise from someone on Andrusha’s end, and then the line went dead. Leave it to Andrusha to be as cryptic as fuck and ten steps ahead of everyone. He had figured something out, and a memory of something that had happened, or almost happened, to me in Beirut was my warning. Too bad I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

I turned my attention to Drake. “What is this bullshit?”

“We need your assistance in another matter.”

“We had a deal. I bring the woman to you, you let my friends go.”

“Deals change.”

I had only worked twice in Beirut. Both of those situations had gone to hell. But they had been completely unrelated, and I couldn’t see any obvious connection to tonight’s scenario either. “What do you want?”

“We know who took Mr. Asterdam.”

What happened in Beirut? What am I supposed to remember? “And I care… why?”

“Blaire’s grandfather was in Manila and about to retrieve something of interest for us from one of his cargo ships. But on his way to the ship, he was abducted.”

“Still don’t care.”

“She’s the only one who can get what we need off that ship.”

I gave him a curious look. “Why?”

His expression was pained. “We sent someone in to look for it, but they couldn’t find it. We heard, however, that she’ll know where her grandfather hid it.”

“Says who?”

“We have our sources.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t miss the bureaucratic bullshit that came along with the military. “Why not just fly her there yourself?”

“Unfortunately, this entire situation has become a bit too hot for those above me. We can’t have any record of this. That means no legal borders, no passports—no trace back to us.”

It took me a few moments to process the magnitude of what he was suggesting. “You need me to smuggle her into some Asian country so she can steal something off one of her grandfather’s ships for you?”

“Basically.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then I make a phone call, and your friends suffer.”

I turned and looked back at Blaire. This was how the game was played. I had pulled the exact same tactics on her to get her away from her home. I’d threatened the people she loved so she would comply with my demands. And for my efforts, she would probably be killed too. Guilt washed over me as she glared at me through the windshield. “If we do this for you, will you help her grandfather?”

He sounded amused. “Oh shit, is that fucking empathy?”

I had no idea why I was even bargaining for her grandfather’s life, but I lied. “I need her motivated.”

“Tell her whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care.”

“Where is he?”

“That’s the sad part of this story. We can’t save ol’ granddad.”

“You don’t know who’s got him.”

His tone hardened. “We’re working on it.”

I rubbed one hand down my face. This night had become one ugly, steaming mess. “What exactly are you asking me to retrieve?”

“That’s above your pay grade.”

“If I bring this back to you, I want to know who took the old man and where he’s at.”

He looked perplexed. “Why the fuck do you care? You know I can’t tell you that.”

I switched gears. “Who was on the mountain tonight? Was that one of yours?”

“No one was up there.”

I stepped so close to him he had to tilt his head back to look at me. Six men emerged from the shadows with their weapons pointed at me. I didn’t give a shit. “Someone was up there with me. Who was it?”

He swallowed. “If someone was up there, that would mean a third party is involved. But that’s unconfirmed.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“And here I thought I was being generous with my information.”

“Who is it?”

“Our intel has been a bit patchy. We think one of the parties has paid for a mercenary—but we aren’t sure why.”

Wow, tonight just keeps getting better and better. I glanced back at Blaire, but her head was down as she examined the door and probably her handcuffs. She was looking for a way out. I was too. In an attempt to increase our odds of surviving, I stepped back. “Do what you want with my business partner. I’m done here.”

Shock crossed Drake’s face. “You’d sacrifice your friends?”

“When no one wants to talk about who the bad guys are, it’s always a suicide mission. That means my friends are as good as dead. They don’t need to factor into my decision.”

He looked impressed. “That’s cold.”

“I’m being realistic.” I motioned my head toward my truck. “Where do you want her?”

Drake spoke quickly, too quickly, revealing his desperation. “I’ll tell you who took her grandfather, but only if you succeed in bringing back what I want.”

I worked to hide my own desperation to save Andrusha and Olivia. I pretended to debate my options. “Where is this cargo ship?”

“It’s due to arrive in Singapore in seventy-two hours. They won’t hurt him until this little situation is settled.”

“Last chance. What are we retrieving?”

He sighed heavily. “It’s a USB drive.”

“What’s on it?”

“None of your concern.”

I knew the advantage was mine, but it wouldn’t last long. “You need to stop tracking me.”

“That’s our protocol.”

“If you can track us, that means someone else can, too. I’m not going unless we can go dark.”

Drake didn’t like letting go of his control over the universe. “You’ll need to call in regularly.”

“Bribes cost money. Who’s financing this?”

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope, and wrote a number on the back. “Here is a secure number and thirty thousand dollars cash. Only use a secure line.”

“If I find out that any of your men are tracking me, then as soon as I retrieve what you want, I will dispose of her and keep whatever is on that drive. If that happens, be prepared to bid high.”

His pupils dilated. “No need to make threats.”

“Those aren’t threats—those are just my terms.”

He looked sour. “Any other terms I should know about?”

Yeah. One day, when this is over, I will come looking for you. “I’ll keep you posted.”

He flushed, knowing I had the upper hand. “The ship docks in Singapore on Friday morning—make sure you’re there. And I want you to call that number and check in every twenty-four hours.”

I reached for the envelope. “No promises.”

He held onto the money. “You always this much of a fuck?”

“This is me being cordial.” I ripped the envelope from his grasp and moved toward my truck.

I could hear him speak to one of the men. “Tell everyone to stand down. Now.”