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  I added some financial filters to my keyword search. Fewer returns, but my effort was rewarded. A land purchase two years ago near St. Petersburg, Russia had been recorded in his name. The document was a matter of public record, as was the massive protest that accompanied the sale. The land, situated perilously close to the Pavlovsk Experimental Station, a global seed bank, had belonged to a single individual planning to develop homes on it. The uproar was over the fact that Gregorie’s plans weren’t for a housing development, but for a manufacturing plant the would produce lye. An industrial accident could contaminate the seed bank. The seed bank faced quarantine or shutdown. All the contents would have to be relocated.

  I launched a second window and typed in the station name. A wide variety of tubers, grains, and berries were housed there. I was dismayed to read that almost ninety percent of the varieties at the vault were not in any other gene bank or repository.

  If Viktor was building another subterranean lab, even the tiniest shift in the ecology of the area could be disastrous. I shuddered as I clicked through to topographic maps.

  The geography was similar to Rapa Nui. A system of underground caverns in the area would make drilling easier. At least there weren’t any active volcanoes in the vicinity.

  I snatched up my phone and dialed Lucien. He’d gone back to his home in Tuscany, but had been texting. He’d have sexted had I been up to it.

  He answered on the third ring. “Solo, darling. How are you feeling?”

  “On the mend. But no time for pleasantries—”

  “Oh, not even a little bit?”

  The low timbre of his voice launched a tingle low in my body. I repressed a shiver of desire. This was too important for me to be sidetracked.

  Baxter leaned over and shouted into the phone. “Hey, Lucien. What’s shaking?” He snorted a laugh then returned his attention to the screen.

  Five seconds of total silence came from the other end of the phone. Then, “Americans.”

  “Lucien, listen. I need another reverse radar survey, and I needed it yesterday,” I said.

  He huffed out a breath. “No need to be bossy. What’s wrong with the image we already have?”

  “Wrong location.”

  “What are you on about, Jayne?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, collecting my thoughts. “A couple years back, Gregorie Koszlov acquired an insane amount of land in Russia for an obscene price.”

  “So what would we be looking for?”

  Baxter started to whistle. I kicked his ankle to make him stop. Weren’t we cute? Acting more like siblings than partners?

  “Another underground facility. Viktor loves redundancy.”

  “Fuck me.”

  I would, but not until this whole assignment was in the books. “Can you do it? Get the scan done?”

  “Will you coordinate our radar with VIS?”

  “My next call is to T.”

  “I’m on it. Give me five to place a call. Can you text me the coordinates on the location?”

  “On their way.”

  Lucien hung up without saying goodbye.

  It looked as if my forced vacation was at an end. I sighed with relief and satisfaction. It felt stupendous to be back on the job.

  12

  Mission Day 14

  Somewhere Over Finland

  My theory had been correct. The combined DIA reverse radar and VIS subsurface images confirmed there was indeed an underground facility in place near St. Petersburg. This lab was smaller than the one on Rapa, and not nearly as deep. We had no way of telling what, if anything, Viktor or Gregorie was manufacturing inside. Whatever it was, it wasn’t something in support of a noble cause. We’d already uncovered one plant on Rapa Nui. My gut told me we’d find another. And, given my impressions of Gregorie, I was certain whatever they were concocting there was destined to lead to a larger planned genocide than we’d originally thought.

  With a near ninety-five percent success ratio when I’d listened to my gut, T agreed to pivot our attention to the Russian facility.

  The DIA had stationed a couple operatives on surveillance detail as soon as the survey had begun, not willing to take any chances. After a stealthy search, they’d located the way in. There was an abandoned asylum nearby, and that’s where they found the door. They’d staked out the building for the past two days. Their reports detailed all quiet—no workers reporting for duty, no comings or going for shift changes. No heavy equipment in the area.

  Essentially, the facility didn’t seem operational. I prayed that was the case, but I knew we had to check. I was supposed to be on medical leave a while longer, so detouring to Russia wouldn’t interfere with our quest to stop Viktor.

  After less than a week in Great Bentley, T had dispatched the VIS doctor to the Tamsyn estate to examine me before I could be released for duty. For once in her life, I do believe T would have broken her own rule and cleared me over the doctor’s objections. If he’d had any…which he didn’t. My strength had returned sufficiently, and he declared me fit to return to work, but admonished me to continue with the serum injections. His eyes had gone impassive when he mentioned my arm would remain permanently marred from Viktor’s bullet. My days of sleeveless dresses might be over, but I couldn’t summon the will to care.

  The scar would be visual motivation to capture Viktor and put him down in the most torturous way imaginable. It was that, or I would die trying. Did that sound blood-thirsty? Probably, but I couldn’t hide from my desire for revenge. He repeatedly hurt humans, and I couldn’t allow him to continue.

  I’d been on the phone with T almost hourly since we’d ferreted out the location of Koszlov’s backup lab. She was desperate to get me back on Koszlov’s trail. Her attempts at micromanaging me were a trifle annoying. No matter what she said, I’d be running this op my way from here on out. I didn’t tell her that. She was on a need-to-know basis as of now, and she didn’t need to know I was planning a side trip off the books.

  Whenever the thought of the final death for my coming infraction niggled my consciousness, I slammed the door on it. Clinging to my humanity by my fingernails, I owned that my life was a small price to pay to secure the safety of humans.

  Penn met us at Heathrow. I hadn’t seen him since before I’d been compromised inside the Thames Barrier. Shock filled me when I realized how much I’d missed his smile. He truly was one of the good guys, the prime example of why humans were worth saving.

  “Here you are,” he said. He passed over a small tablet. “You’ll land at Pulkovo Airport in roughly three hours. There’s some reading material there for you. Everything we were able to find on Gregorie. Also, the scans have been loaded on the tablet. You’ll be busy.”

  He shoved a sealed file against Bax’s chest without commenting on the contents. Bax juggled his mobile, the envelope, and his briefcase. It was rather comical.

  “Are you joining us?” Baxter asked Penn as he stabilized enough to shove the antiquated file into the side pocket on his briefcase.

  “Not on your life. It isn’t spring in St. Pete. No way would I go there now. Too cold.” He sneered and rubbed his palms together. “Besides, I’m strictly admin. Not field trained.”

  The attitude and acrimony rolling off Penn surprised me. Fists clenched, he jammed them on his hips, something I’d never seen him do. Before I could ask why, Baxter dropped his phone, but when he reached to retrieve it, he kicked it away.

  Penn scowled at Tamsyn’s back and lifted his boot-clad foot, like he wanted to kick the man in the bum. The tense set of Penn’s features made me wonder when he’d developed such a strong dislike of Bax. I’d known Penn a long time, and I’d never seen him glare at another human that way.

  “Apparently, neither is Baxter,” I whispered to Penn.

  That earned me one of his gorgeous smiles, dimples included. “The password to get into the tablet is Pennsthebombdotcom, all one word.” The dimples deepened.

  I patted his shoulder. “Does T appreciat
e your sense of humor?”

  He shrugged. “I doubt she’d recognize humor if it bit her on the bum.”

  He had a point. My turn to shrug. The silk of my Dior blouse whispered against my shoulder blades. “Did Drax send any cool toys today?”

  “I’m glad you asked.” Penn slipped the strap of a carry-on bag off his shoulder and handed it to me. “I think you’ll like this.”

  I wasted no time unzipping the bag and peering inside. Resting on top was Drax’s offering. “Binoculars?” Disappointment sat rotten in my gut. I’d hoped for something cooler.

  “These binoculars come with a range finder and what essentially amounts to radar capacity. Oh, and did I mention it also has an infrared scanner?” Penn smirked. “Drax would never give you tech that didn’t live up to expectation.”

  I smiled. “Can’t wait to try them.”

  “Dig deeper.” A thin smile quirked up one corner of his mouth.

  Oh goody! More gadgets. Returning my attention to the bag, I found a small, round black disk. “What’s this?”

  “A mobile GPS display. You mount the disk on the dashboard and press this button.” He pointed out a small gray protrusion on the side. “The map will project onto the windscreen.”

  “Most cars come with a map these days, Penn.” I turned the disk over in my hand and found a tacky-feeling rubber gasket.

  “Ah, but this map is special, Jayne. Our advanced technology will highlight preprogrammed escape routes in St. Petersburg, adjusting for speed, road conditions, etc. Also, it links back to headquarters. A skilled technician you can trust is available to guide you whenever the device is activated. Our man will anticipate where you are going and call out directions. The VIS employee at the other end will help you get safely away and evade potential capture. In the event you’re chasing someone else, you can shout out make, model and color, and headquarters will tap into CCTV to provide turn by turn directions.” Penn dusted his hands together and beamed at me. “Drax has been working on this technology for a year. He understands our operatives penchant for fast driving and their need to escape danger.”

  I made a mental note to send Drax a very nice bottle of wine. “This might be his coolest invention ever.”

  “Did you bring our papers?” Bax interrupted.

  Penn raised his brows. “Which papers are those, Duet?” Disdain edged his voice.

  “Our security clearances. I don’t want the TSA or whoever staffs the airport scanners to detain me. I’m carrying firearms.”

  “Should have packed that in your case, Tamsyn.”

  Bax’s mouth flopped open.

  Penn smirked at him. “Kidding.” His cold expression told a different story. “Clearance has been texted to your phone. Just scan the bar code at the checkpoint. You’ll fly through like a greased pig.”

  Somewhere along the way, Penn had developed a dislike of my mentee. I wondered again what the animosity was all about.

  The chance to ditch my sidekick couldn’t happen if he flew through security alongside me. And if I was honest, I didn’t mind him as much now. I’d gotten used to his company. He wasn’t a bad operative. After my experience at the Barrier, I found I trusted him, an unusual turnabout in my modus operandi.

  “Penn”—I dragged him aside and lowered my voice—“what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on. You like everybody. You’re that guy. But you…you don’t like Bax. What gives?”

  He narrowed a steely gaze on Bax, who was once again glued to his mobile. I followed his gaze, noting Bax’s wrinkled khaki trousers and his scuffed loafers. He kept spearing one hand through his shaggy golden brown hair as if frustrated.

  Penn blanked his expression. “It’s nothing. He just rubs me the wrong way. He should never have been assigned to this operation.”

  I let my suspicion go. “Time to get a move on.” My black pencil skirt tightened across my thighs when I crouched to slip the tablet in my oversize satchel along with my phone.

  “One last thing, Solo.” Penn pulled a gadget that resembled a thermal scanner from his coat pocket. “May I see your left arm, please?”

  I slowly extended my left arm, the one with the awful black scar. “What’s this?”

  “Drax wanted to be sure the tracker is still functioning. You took the bullet in close proximity to the device.” Penn ran the scanner over my arm, and the device under my skin heated up.

  Bollocks! I’d forgotten they had me on radar. My secret plan to handle this my way and not follow protocol suddenly more complicated.

  “Good news. It’s working.” Good news for whom? He slipped the scanner back into his pocket. “Stay alert, Jayne. Be smart.”

  Penn pecked my cheek, tossed a stony glance at Bax, spun on his heel, and strode away. It hadn’t escaped my notice he didn’t tell Tamsyn to stay safe. Unease crawled through me. The hostility I’d detected was new. Something bothered Penn. And as much as I trusted Bax now, I valued Penn’s instincts more. I considered chasing after him and demanding what had stuck in his craw. In a rare moment of indecision, I stood motionless, chewing my lips, trying to puzzle out Penn’s emotion.

  “Coming, Jayne? Don’t want to miss our flight. We’ll be cutting it close as it is.” Baxter’s voice rang with impatience.

  I tucked away my troubling thoughts about Penn. I’d ask him later. Collecting my satchel, I dogged Bax toward the security checkpoint.

  As promised, we breezed through security with no issues. The attendant studied his readout for three seconds, lifted his gaze to mine, and offered me a small salute. Then he pointed to the by-pass gate. I led the way, pausing only at the opposite end to allow another agent a cursory examination of my bag.

  The mighty Penn had arranged pre-board accommodations, so Bax and I went straight to the gate and walked right onto the plane. I claimed the window seat, leaving Bax the aisle. As other passengers filed through the first class cabin, I ignored them and scanned through the list of documents loaded on the tablet. There was plenty of reading to occupy me on the three hours of our flight.

  Bax’s shoulder bumped mine as he fastened his safety belt. “Sorry. Hey, do you want a martini?”

  “Do fat babies fart?” I slipped off the leopard print Jimmy Choo’s and gave my toes a wiggle.

  He barked a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  He lifted a hand to attract the flight attendant’s attention, an easy feat since she’d been staring at him for the better part of the boarding process. He was an attractive man. I could see why he’d garner covetous glances.

  In her haste to get to Baxter’s side, the attendant knocked aside one of the other passengers. “What can I get you, sir?”

  Merciful heavens! When was the last time I’d seen simpering like this? Eighty years ago? Certainly prior to World War II.

  Duet smiled warmly. “I’d like two vodka martinis, please. Can you make one dirty? And if you have bleu cheese stuffed olives, that’d be perfect.”

  “Right away, sir.” She bobbed down in what suspiciously seemed like a curtsy.

  I studied her as she jostled more passengers, making her way back to the galley. “She has to realize you’re American, not royalty.” I switched my gaze to the guppy. “And why did you order only one dirty?”

  “The other one’s for me.”

  I leaned back in my seat and tossed my hair over one shoulder. “Since when did you start drinking vodka? You’ve been a beer man.”

  “I hear it’s an acquired taste. Thought it might be time I acquired it.” His low chuckle made me smile.

  “Starting to drink martinis doesn’t make you a super spy. You know that, right?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jayne.” He dragged his battered briefcase onto his lap and dug through it, fingering the edges of the file Penn had handed him.

  Curiosity got the better of me. “What’s that?”

  His fingers stilled. The briefcase was quickly stowed under t
he seat in front of him. “Just some training paperwork. I’ll look at it later.”

  He’d just flat-out lied. Straight to my face. And the knowledge he’d done so twisted in my gut like a braid, end over end with questions and suspicion. How odd that Penn’s animosity toward him had affected me as well. I didn’t like the idea that Bax might be hiding something from me. I considered glamouring him and forcing him to let me in on his secret, but I let it go. I needed to focus on stopping Viktor. There’d be time later to concentrate on Bax. I was perhaps the best operative in the VIS. I had ways of ferreting out the truth. And I’d get it from my partner before it was all over.

  The preflight monologue was in progress now. Our drinks had been delivered, and since I couldn’t put my tray table down, I sipped mine and held the tablet on my lap to read during takeoff. Bax scanned the contents over my shoulder, his lips moving as he read.

  Once we reached altitude, I dropped the tray table and settled a little better into my seat. Bax’s martini went virtually untouched after his first sip. It didn’t look like he’d quite acquired the taste yet.

  I propped the tablet on Bax’s table, so anyone passing couldn’t see what we were studying, but he’d be able to read it. As I was a faster reader, I scrolled through it rapidly.

  “Slow down, Jayne. I haven’t read all of it.”

  Silently, I cursed Penn for not providing two tablets and let Bax take over the scrolling speed.

  He opened an image of the asylum where the surveillance crew had found an entrance to Viktor’s Russian underground facility. As the image focused, icy disquiet raised goose bumps on my arms. The abandoned building was dilapidated and looked near ready to crumble. Thank goodness, I knew ghosts weren’t real. No danger of disturbing any on our way in.

  Penn had included additional back-story items on Gregorie. The more I read, the more disturbed I became. He’d began pulling the wings off butterflies in his cradle and swiftly moved through the stages of hurting small animals, bullying young playmates, torturing friends, and killing enemies. He was a psychotic bastard if ever there was one. I’d been through hell with Viktor. If Gregorie ever managed to take me captive, I knew I wouldn’t survive. In fact, the final death would be preferable to enduring his particular brand of unhinged insanity.