Operation Heartbreaker (9 page)

This interview was supposed to enlighten the darkness of his past. It was meant to bring the
Prince of Night
, as he’d been called in a commentary once, closer to her readers. The true Viktor, not the polished façade he was presenting the media.

But honestly, right now there were totally different questions burning under her nails. Like who was the man she’d been living all her life under the same roof with. Moreover what about her parents and their dubious disappearance? And what was the story behind her heart medication?

But the primary question was who she, Alienor Reynolds, really was. Where did she come from? The answer to that scared the living daylight out of her.

Suddenly, the couch moved and Viktor sat next to her. “I’m sorry,” he remarked, and Ally had trouble concentrating. Crap, what the heck had she just asked him?

He tenderly caressed her cheeks with the knuckle, leaving a hot trace on her skin. “You look as if you need a hug.”

She shook her head. This was so going wrong. “Well, actually this was supposed to be an interview about you.” Before she royally screwed up, that is.

“I think we have better things to do.”

Come again?

When she looked up he smiled and nodded towards her iPad on the lounge table. “Check your mails. You’ve already held this interview in the morning. Therefore the earlier flight, because I couldn’t arrange it any other way.”

Ally stared at him as if he was speaking Swahili.

“I was so thankful,” he continued unmoved, “that I sent the finished interview to your chief editor, Renée what’s-her-name? She is ecstatic, by the way.”

For a moment she was speechless.

“You did…
what?”
She jumped up.

“You should have heard her, she was thrilled to bits. I think she is more than willing to reemploy you.”

Ally extended her index finger like a weapon. “How…?” Her voice quivered with outrage before cracking. She cleared her throat and tried again. “How could you do that?” And how the heck did he know Renée had kicked her out?

“Don’t thank me. It was my pleasure.” The taunt in his voice was evident und could hardly be overheard.

Arrogant prick! Had she really just thought about how comfortable she felt in his presence? How sensitive he was and that there was more to him than the self-absorbed bastard he was known for? That’s the proof that she’d lost her marbles. “Why am I even here, if you kill the game yourself?”

“That,” he said and held out one hand to her, “is the question at hand.”

Now it was official, the guy had a few screws loose.

She carefully let down her protection and extended her sensors to read his intent. But there was nothing, total radio silence–how strange. Why did he emotionally calm her in this way when she couldn’t feel him? It almost seemed as if there was a kind of shield screening him and everybody in his vicinity off. But that was impossible. She’d never met anybody with that kind of ability.

“There’s a reason why you’re here,” he interrupted her thoughts.

“Well, sure, you made an appointment with the newspaper, remember?”

Smiling, he shook his head and lowered his hand. “I had to see you.”

She stared at him. He had to see her as in see
her
? Wait a minute! “Did you actually make Renée send me?”

He nodded and didn’t have the decency to look even the slightest bit remorseful. At least it would explain why a newbie like her was allowed to take over an assignment this big instead of a correspondent in France. The whole thing was odd from the start. Only three months at the paper and off to Paris! It obviously wasn’t due to her incredible talent. But she’d hoped her fast growing blog community was in some way responsible for this assignment. Yeah, right.

“You bribed the paper with an interview to get to me?” Why was she actually sounding so enraged? It wasn’t by far the worst that happened to her this week. Nevertheless. This conceited, callous, calculating…

“Ally,” he said so softly that the lightning disappeared from her eyes. This time when he picked up her hand, no energy got discharged, instead it was flowing. The palm of her hand was pleasantly tingling. After she inhaled deeply, her anger dissolved into thin air. Wow, what was that?

“I’m in Paris because my father was murdered.”

She flinched at his words as if he’d hit her. Holy shit!

When she looked at him in disbelief, he nodded. “He was politically active back home, but the Ukraine isn’t a safe place. That’s why he lived here and gained more and more influence over the years.”

With his bank balance that couldn’t have been too hard, she thought, but regretted it immediately. Jeez, he was dead! “Do you think the murder was politically motivated?”

“Yes and no.”

“Do you have any idea who could be behind it?” She wanted to reach for pen and paper, but thought better of it.

“Yes,” he said quietly and caressed her cheek with his thumb. The gesture came so unexpected that she was left speechless for a moment.

Don’t forget to breath!

“Really?” she said in a raspy voice. “Who?”

“Your father.”

~ *  ~

Cole was laying on the flat roof, calibrating his gun sight, when Iwanow touched his daughter’s cheek.

Keep on going, pal
, he thought while the corners of his mouth were following gravity. He would have liked to pull the trigger, but Viktor’s death wasn’t in his interest. He also would terrify his daughter, who’d developed the unpleasant characteristic of getting herself in trouble. This was probably something she’d also inherited from him. He smiled at this bitter play of words, looking as if he’d bitten into a lemon.

Ally didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into. How could she? It had been his wish to keep her out for as long as possible. She was meant to grow up normal, as far as that was possible, without being pulled into his dirty past.

For years he’d been telling himself that this would be the best. Had it been? Now the truth was more and more surfacing and she didn’t know how to handle it.

And what for? Because Sergej had barged in. He hadn’t been able to wait and had passed on confidential information to the press without having a fucking plan. President Mitchel was scared shitless, so he sent the Secret Service after the only joker remaining: Ally. Thanks to her new side job they’d become aware of her. She’d changed her date of birth, but only the year. The other facts she’d given the
Seattle Times
were accurate. The message was caught by the NSA, which passed it to his former employer. The CIA had set up an investigation department with the only task to search for the offspring of the special agents. Of all things, the program his friend Louis Devereux, had written, lead them straight to Ally. Devereux was one of the gifted and Jean’s father, a boy Ally’s age, who had to hide just like her.

Cole’s hands were trembling with anger, so he closed his eyes  and took a deep breath.
Be calm!
, he reminded himself and took another breath. In his job he couldn’t afford mistakes. Every time he thought of his former company, he had the feeling of drowning in rage.

After the department had tracked down his daughter, they broke into David’s home and laid a trail of breadcrumbs, which were supposed to confront Ally with David’s documentation. As expected, she reacted impetuously and flew to Paris in a mad rush–the department in tow. The CIA probably couldn’t believe their luck of Ally leading them directly to him. Of course, they could have filtered the information of David’s records themselves. But just because they knew where he was didn’t mean they could come close.

Ally could. Those CIA rats were playing with her feelings.

With her love.

It must have hurt like a bitch to find out that her father was alive yet had never tried to contact her. Build a relationship.

To steal her pills had been a smart move. That way she had to face her gift and couldn’t evade it any longer. And that was exactly what they wanted. On one hand she was the perfect bait, on the side they were after her talent. A young agent in the service of the CIA. One that could still be molded, fed with the same bullshit-propaganda that had once lured him into their cave.
Your country needs you. Your special gift is an obligation. Just think of how many lives you could save…

His country had needed him, alright. But not to get rid of their enemies, but to make them stronger. It was about influence, money and about keeping the upper hand in the war for power. Unbelievable how far the department had gone just because impending budget cuts would have caused them serious cutbacks. They rather saw their cities razed to the ground than lowered funds.

Of all teams they had ordered Cole’s to smuggle weapons from Russia via hospitable countries like Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan as well as Afghanistan, across the Kunduz. Though Cole had asked himself what all the hassle was about. The Russians were delivering their weapons via plane to Pakistan. From there it would have been a stone’s throw to Afghanistan, especially since the governments in Islamabad and Kabul were getting along just fine so that they could’ve sent it via UPS as well. But the goods were supposed to be paid with drugs which probably would have caused some disconcertment in the driver-department. But not in paid murderers like him. The drugs were meant for his country,
his
people.

His muscles tightened at the memory.

Well, he’d done the job, but not as the Secret Service had planned. He mentally shook his head while pointing the gun sight of his precision rifle at Viktor.

Compared to his firm Sergej was a choir boy, though Cole secretly wished he had him in the crosshairs, not his son. But guys like Sergej were as dragons. For every head you cut off, two new ones appeared. It was a fight one couldn’t win.

Apart from this, the Ukrainian was not his target. He neither intended to drown his homeland in blood nor to poison its citizens with drugs. He restricted those activities to Europe alone, and that wasn’t Cole’s beef.

But it would, if Sergej’s son didn’t stop pulling Ally into his shit. Neither Sergej’s offspring nor the Firm would get their dirty fingers on her.

Although Sergej’s headless initiative was annoying, he sped up the course of events. The press had taken the bait and the Ukrainian kept feeding them via his contacts. But he lacked the proof to finish President Mitchel. The list.

Sergej was a fucking idiot. He’d brought the list into his possession without knowing what it was. Thanks to the complicated encoding he hadn’t been able to decipher data on the thumb drive. It had been the CIA that brought his attention to the magnitude of his stupidity. They couldn’t believe that Sergej had no idea of the existence of the list. That he hadn’t known what was on that stick. Only when questioned by the department, he realized what he’d lost. But by then it was too late.

After they had left Sergej to die, the first pieces of information about SK began to circulate. For the first time inconvenient questions were asked. Questions about a secret project called
Special Skills
, about funding gaps, squander of taxpayer money and illegal activities abroad. All of it still relatively vague, but in the final stage of the election campaign it could be deadly.

In this stage of the presidential campaign even the smallest rumors were picked up and inflated until the entire mess blew up. It wasn’t unusual to change tack the last minute, and the opponent would catch up. Eight weeks ago, Mitchel had been the goodie two shoes of the nation. Since he’d become a widower a year ago, nobody had dared to attack him head-on without considered being an ass.

Now, it was a different story. The deformation campaign of his opponents started to work out and the President had received his first bumps. Rumors about an affair were going around. It was implied that he had cheated on his gravely ill wife. Next, it was alleged that he left her alone during her long period of suffering while amusing himself with other women. That’s when Sergej and his information about SK came in handy. Within weeks Mitchel looked like a traitor who’d deserted his dying wife.

The President was neither one nor the other. But it would have been in his power to stop the SK-program at any point.

But enough of that. Cole made an effort and stood up. After he’d dismantled the rifle and stored it in the suitcase, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a cigarette case. He carefully opened it.

Oh yes, he thought and pursed his lips while looking at its contents. The President would pay. Before he did, Cole had a bill to settle with Mitchel’s right hand The asshole, who screwed up his life. The founder of the Special Skills project and former head of the research department of the CIA.

With a last glance at the object inside the case he closed its lid and let it disappear in the depths of his coat.

Let the games begin.

08

“My dad has murdered your father?”

Was he for real?

“Do you even know who your dad is?”

Um, no. That was probably written all over her face.

“My dad had something that admittedly hadn’t gotten into his possession in a legal manner,” Viktor continued softer. “A few people were after him for that, the ruthless kind of guys. Three weeks ago Cole stole it from him and forty-eight hours later my dad was dead.”

Ally huffed. “If Cole really stole something, why should he kill your father afterwards?” After all, he had what he wanted, right?

“Good thinking. But the evidence is pointing at Cole. There were traces, quite a lot, even fingerprints.”

Sweet. Why not a claim of responsibility while you’re at it? She shook her head. Whoever had been in hiding as long as Cole, leading a shadow life for a decade, didn’t leave arrows pointing at him. Especially not fingerprints. Not even a rookie worked without gloves, everybody knew that. “And what did you find after the break in?”

“Nothing.”

“So, how did you know it had been Cole?”

He smiled, but looked bitter. “Because there’s only one person who could have gotten through the security checkpoints, of which there a quite a few, believe me, without leaving a trace.”

“Do I get this right? My dad allegedly breaks into your father’s place and vanishes without leaving the hint of dust. Two days later your father is dead and this time Cole supposedly leaves a neon sign with his name?”

Instead of answering, his smile became icy.

“That’s bull and you know it!” When she saw his expression she bit her lip. He’d lost his father for God’s sake. And she–well, she was as sensitive as a Tyrannosaurus. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad. It must be a terrible time for you. But I can’t believe that somebody breaks in like Houdini and after his next coup leaves a business card.” Had she just called the murder of his dad a coup? Crap! “I mean, of course…”

“Me neither.”

Uh? Hadn’t he just stated that Cole had killed his father?

“And, um, what do you want from me then?”

He leaned in and she breathed in his scent. Definitely freshly mowed grass and underneath it a more spicy note, probably aftershave.

“I need the list.”

Ally blinked. List. What the hell was he talking about?

“That’s what Cole stole from my father. I need it back,” he added.

“Why are you telling me this?” As if she could do anything about it.

He leaned back, a satisfied smile around his lips while fixating her with his midnight blue eyes. “You are the only one who can get it for me.”

Warning bells rang in her head. “Are you saying that you broke into our house?”

He lifted his eyebrows and had the nerve to look surprised. “Not that I know of. What was stolen?”

She gently released her breath. Slowly it all started to make sense. “As if you didn’t know!” This bloody hypocrite!

He frowned. “Do you seriously believe that I’m involved in a break-in though it’s clear that you’ll come to me the next day? Why not wait until you’re in Paris and won’t find out till you return?”

“How would I know? I’ve no clue what to believe anymore.”

“What was stolen?”

“My heart medication,” she mumbled with embarrassment and rubbed her neck.

Viktor threw back his head and laughed.

That did it. She was out of here, this moron was wasting her time. As she marched to the door, he stood in front of her all of the sudden that she ran into him. How the hell…?

“I’m sorry,” he said and took her hands. “I didn’t laugh about you. I thought you were joking.”

“It’s not funny, I need those pills.” Though, come to think of it: Except for two panic attacks, she’d actually managed pretty well without her medication during the last two days.

He laughed again, but when he saw her expression, he became serious, like somebody had turned a switch. “Ally, you don’t need any pills. Who told you that?”

“You don’t even know me. Still you think you know better than me what I need?”

“Because you’re like me, Ally.”

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?”

In response, he looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and doubt. Man, if he was going tell her that they had the same mother, she’d be out of here faster than he could down a glass of Vodka.

“Did your uncle really never talk to you about it?”

David was good in a lot of things, but letting someone in wasn’t his strong suit. She opened her mouth to throw an insult at him, but paused when she saw his face. Was that pity?

He carefully lead her back to the couch and with soft force pushed her into the cushions. Next he went to the bar, filled a glass with Cognac, and placed it into her hand.

“Drink.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. Right now she wouldn’t have said no to a double shot of Whiskey. She downed it in one gulp and was proud of herself for not coughing. The stuff burned like liquid fire. Shortly after, a pleasant warmth began to float through her body and she let out a pleased sigh.

“Another?”

Better not. “Yes.” Whatever he had to tell her, if she was drunk it probably sounded half as bad. So she downed the second brandy and closed her eyes for a moment.

When Viktor put his arm around her and carefully pulled her towards him, she took a quivering breath.

“Better?” he inquired.

His father just died and he asked her how she was doing? Weird. She nodded but made no effort to leave his embrace. It simply felt too good. When was the last time she’d been hugged? She couldn’t remember.

As his fingers were drawing little circles on her back, her eyelids dropped and she breathed in his spicy aftershave. Gosh, he smelled good! She must have had one too many, otherwise she couldn’t explain her odd behavior. Here she was, sprawling on a couch at the other end of the world, throwing herself at a complete stranger. What’s more, somebody she was supposed to interview. It sounded like a joke.

“Psst,” he whispered into her hair. “I can hear you think.”

„Bad habit,“ she uttered and finally found the strength to get out of his arms. Not a nice feeling. But if she wanted to retain at least some pride she had to keep her six senses together, otherwise she would end up like Cole. Or worse, Viktor’s father. Not for the first time she asked herself what she’d gotten herself into.

Her thoughts drifted to Julie. She’d been barely able to keep her from coming. Instead, she convinced her to stay in the suite and take apart the gazillion files on the MacBook.

As soon as she was back in the hotel she would tuck her friend on the first plane to the States. What was she thinking to pull her into her mess? On the other hand, without Julie’s help she probably wouldn’t have made it to the airport, let alone into the plane.

Yet, something had changed. She was tired of her own passiveness. It was time to take things into her own hands. For years she’d let herself being reduced to a pawn. But that was over now. Even if only half of the information she’d scraped together was correct, not only was her life in danger, but also Julie’s. There was no way she could justify it any longer.

She took a deep breath and tried to get rid of the dizziness. Why the heck had she boozed herself up like that?

„What’s on that list that you need so urgently?“ she asked, trying for a firm voice.

Viktor put his arm onto the backrest. His look was serious again. “It’s not just me. There are authorities, governments all over the world, who want that flash drive. They won’t stop until they have it. My father obtained it at the risk of losing his life.”

And now he was dead. “What’s on that list?”

“Names.”

She frowned. That’s all?

“Ally, as long as Cole has the list, not only his life, but yours as well is in danger. Your uncle, your friends, anybody you care for is a target.”

“Who in the world would do anything to anybody just to get their hands onto a few boring names?”

He laughed in disbelief. “These names are a lot, but not boring, that’s for sure. Whoever is on that pen drive isn’t just anybody. Only big shots from politics and business made it on the list.”

“So what?”

Viktor sighed softly. “Those people are dangerous. They belong to an exclusive group of people with huge influence. They’ll have you killed in a heartbeat and don’t have to answer to anybody for it. If only because your body will never be found. They’ve killed already, not only my father. They are cold-blooded killers, who wont stop until they get what they want.”

“Which would be what exactly?”

“It’s about a project called Special Skills. Does that ring a bell?”

She nodded slowly, which seemed to relieve him. He was probably glad not having to tell her everything in detail.

“My dad was one of the test subjects,” she added, repeating only what Jean had told her.

Viktor nodded in agreement. This wasn’t news to him. “Now they’re trying to prevent a scandal and cut off the lose ends.”

“But that was ages ago.“ What was it that Jean had said again?

“As long as the people involved are alive it doesn’t make any difference.”

“Where does your dad fit in?”

She’d barely asked that question when it dawned on her. He had just told her whose names were on the list: Powerful people with influence and tons of money. Thus, guys like his father, a well-known oligarch, whose wealth came from sources better left unmentioned. Now the list had been stolen and somebody was trying to blackmail him.

Ally frowned. Why was he murdered then? Dead people don’t pay ransom. Crap! Just when she thought she was getting somewhere, she had to start over again. Would there ever be any light brought into this madness? Apropos.

“What did you mean earlier when you mentioned I don’t need my pills?” That she was like him.

“Ally, you came from the Special Skills program. A heart defect is impossible.

At those words her heart skipped a beat, as if to protest.

“Your gift is not the only thing you’ve been given. Excellent health is only one side effect of the genetic modification.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you ever have a cold, the measles or any other sicknesses as a child?”

She shook her head in disbelief. No way! She wasn’t the guinea pig of the government. That’s impossible. Her throat got tight when the pieces fell into place. Genetic modification. Her father was a test person. Experiments on the genetic make-up. The medical reports in the files. Dr. Edwards and his endless blood tests. And all of it because of a heart defect they had probably made up to keep an eye on the experiment.
Her
. Was she some kind of mutant or what?

“Hey!” Viktor took her hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay.”

“A-and what are the pills for?”

He gently pulled at his earlobe. Was that helping him think?

“No idea. How did you feel after taking them?”

“As if I were wrapped in cotton.” An understatement of the year. Intoxicated and numbed was more like it.

“It might be beta blockers to suppress your gift.” He let his gaze slowly wander across her features.

“So, what’s your talent?”

“To be honest, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

He seemed disappointed, but nodded.

She had to ponder about her defect that was suddenly supposed to be a gift–joy! Or not. What was the use knowing what other people were feeling? It was confusing as hell and did nothing but confront her with the unfiltered emotions of strangers. And that was rarely nice. People had an impossible amount of worries. Money was the evergreen on top of the list, closely followed by health-related fears. But that was nothing compared to their envy. Hate for colleagues, neighbors, even close relatives. Sometimes open, sometimes disguised in anger and aggression.

And she was in the front seat sensing stuff that wasn’t part of her. It happened more than once that she’d be furious all of a sudden without knowing why. What he was calling a gift has been a nightmare to her. And, as a side note, a complete waste.

Now the notes, that stated the experiment had failed, made sense. Not only was she a freak, but a useless one on top of that.  While Jean could move things and knock others out, she got headaches from the frustration of strangers. Not to forget her ability to detect lost keys. Though, that came in handy at least.

When Viktor wrapped an arm around her waist she was startled. He carefully pulled her towards him, probably because she looked like she was going to cry any moment. But she wasn’t sad. She was appalled and angry and…disappointed.

All the lies that had controlled her life were causing a sour taste. It was
her
life, how could David dare to watch her like a goddamn chemical experiment that could blow up in his face? To top it off, without telling her a thing about it. She was seventeen and not a toddler, who couldn’t be told the truth. How could he do that to her?