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38
Sara
As mid-October approaches, the men’s preparations for the Turkey job ramp up, and I decide that this is going to be my opportunity.
If they do the same thing as the last time, leaving one man to watch over me, I may be able to sneak away unseen—especially if my jailer is going to be as occupied as Yan was during the Nigeria gig.
“So,” I casually ask Peter during one of our walks, “what’s the plan next week? Is Yan staying behind again?”
To my surprise, Peter shakes his head. “He can’t. None of us can this time. The security around the politician is too multi-layered; we’ll need all four of us to get to him.”
My heartbeat jumps into sudden hope territory. Trying not to sound too eager, I say, “That makes sense. I’ll be fine here. There’s plenty of food and—”
“No, ptichka.” Peter reaches for my hand, settling it in the crook of his elbow. “I’m not leaving you here alone, don’t worry.”
I swallow my disappointment and attempt to give him a guileless look as we resume walking. “Why? It’s not like I can get down, so—”
“Exactly.” Peter shoots me a sardonic glance. “You can’t get down, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be tempted to try. Besides, I don’t want to leave you stranded here if something happens to us.”
“But then what will you do with me?” I ask, genuinely confused. “Are you going to bring me with you on the job?”
“No, of course not, though Yan did propose that. The preppy bastard wants a doctor on hand in case of any injuries,” Peter says with a grimace. “No, I’m waiting to hear back from someone, and once I do, I’ll let you know what the plan is.”
“What?” I frown up at him. “Hear back from whom? About what?”
“Don’t worry about it right now,” Peter says and holds up a branch to let me pass underneath. “If it doesn’t work out, there’s a plan B, but Plan A is much better, trust me.”
I learn what Plan A is two days before the men are due to fly out.
“You’re going to leave me in Cyprus with an illegal arms dealer?” I gape at Peter, so shocked I forget I’m in the middle of taking off my jeans. “And that’s better than leaving me here because…?”
Peter sits down on the bed. “Because he and his wife owe me a favor,” he explains, pulling off his shirt. “So if anything happens to me, they’ve promised to return you home. You’ll be safe with them until I’m able to retrieve you, and if, for whatever reason, I’m not… Well, you’ll get what you say you want, my love. Your old life will be yours again.”
Stunned, I finish undressing and sit down on the bed next to him, clad only in my underwear. “But another criminal? How do you know you can trust him? What if he double-crosses you? You did say there’s a price on your head…”
Peter shrugs, his eyes roving over my nearly naked body. “Like I said, Lucas Kent owes me a favor, and he doesn’t need the reward money. He used to be second-in-command to Julian Esguerra, a powerful weapons dealer, and now he’s his boss’s partner in some ventures. The reward money doesn’t move the needle for him, and neither would whatever favor he could curry with the authorities by turning me in.”
“Oh.” Something nags at the back of my mind, some tidbit I can’t quite recall. Then it comes to me. “Wait, is this Kent the arms dealer you mentioned before? The one who got you your list?”
“No, actually, that was his boss, Esguerra,” Peter says, reaching behind my back. “Or technically, Esguerra’s wife, as Esguerra had sworn to kill me at that point.”
I catch his wrists before he has a chance to unhook my bra. “Kill you? For what?”
Peter sighs. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that Kent doesn’t share Esguerra’s hatred of me. I’ve helped him out of some tight spots, both when we worked together—Esguerra was my employer at one point too—and afterward, when Kent needed to retrieve his wife. In any case, all you need to know is that Kent owes me.”
“But this Esguerra—Kent’s partner—wants to kill you?” At Peter’s nod, I ask in frustration, “Why?”
“Because I saved Esguerra’s life, but I had to go against my orders to do so. Specifically, I had to endanger his wife, the woman he entrusted me to protect. It was at her request—she bargained with my list, in fact—but still, he wasn’t pleased.” Twisting out of my hold with laughable ease, Peter goes for my bra again.
I give up and let him unhook it. “But he and the wife are both okay?”
Peter shrugs again, his heated gaze lowering to my exposed breasts. “Okay is a relative term, but yes, they both survived, and she held up her part of the bargain by getting me the list.” His voice is husky as he returns his attention to my face and says, “You don’t have to worry about the Esguerras, ptichka. They’re in Colombia, far away from Kent’s compound in Cyprus. You’ll stay with Kent and his wife for the couple of days it takes us to do the job, and then we’ll collect you on our way back. Cyprus is right next to Turkey, in case you weren’t aware.” As he speaks, he cups my breasts, gently squeezing and massaging them.
