Page 50 of Fallen Hero

“It’s like she thinks we were born yesterday on a turnip truck with ‘stupid’ tattooed on our foreheads,” I mumbled.

“Actually, I wasn’t thinking that, but now that you mention it—”

“You’re sure your cover will hold?” Pete cut in before she could finish her insult.

“Yes.”

Without further pushing, Pete went on, “Opening bid for this auction will start at two hundred thousand.”

Fallon whistled. “Do you have an idea what the bids will close at?”

“I had to authenticate I had a million in currency and another five hundred thousand in assets I could liquidate if needed.”

“Tom’s report said Amir hosts these auctions once a year,” Pete went on.

Okay, so, no one else was going to back me up and call Calista out on her bullshit.

“Yes. That’s why it’s important I get an invitation.”

“What do you know about the Russian? Tom’s report didn’t mention him.”

Calista’s gaze stayed studiously locked on Pete when she answered, “Next to nothing. He’s notoriously cautious. Think Putin on steroids. From the limited information Atlanta could find, his security team is generational. The post is passed down from father to son. There are some rumors that say Sergei has a hand in picking who his guards will marry and reproduce with, ensuring the next generation to serve him is strong and loyal. Tom has been tight lipped about Sergei, so either he doesn’t know anything more than what Atlanta’s found or he doesn’t want me to know.”

I thought back to our earlier conversation, the one that sparked Pete to call in the rest of the team, then I thought about Calista’s relief when she learned they were on their way. It wasn’t surprising she didn’t trust Tom, but was there more she wasn’t telling us?

Of course there was. The woman was like a vault. Finding the right combination to get her to open up changed from conversation to conversation.

“You said you were worried about Tom not taking care of the women,” I reminded her. “Do you think he could be protecting Sergei?”

Her eyes slowly journeyed back to me. When they landed, she looked less than pleased I’d gone down the Sergei line of questioning. Which was a clear indication I’d hit a nerve.

Now the question was, would she outright lie?

“I told you, I don’t know what Tom’s planning. I do know something feels off. And if Tom thinks he can bait a bigger fish, he will. That means he’ll scrap the mission, call off his team, and follow a new lead. I don’t disagree Sergei needs to be taken out of the game. I do disagree that should be done at the expense of the women.”

“If Tom calls off the mission, our team will be in place,” Pete reminded her.

Calista lifted her mug to her lips and drank. What she didn’t do was acknowledge Pete.

I don’t know if I have anything left. I’m broken.

Her words from last night hit me square in the chest.

Next came a one-two punch in the gut.

If I stop, what happens to them?

I’m exhausted.

I had yet to recover when she said, “Within the next forty-eight hours, I’ll get a call with a time and location to meet Amir. This is his idea of an interview. What it’ll really be is him showing off his wealth. Which we know means power. The last two times I followed him—”

“You followed him?”

She continued like I hadn’t spoken. “He took Maxwell Lancaster to an exclusive invitation-only club at the Rixos on Saadiyat Island.”

“Doesn’t the crown prince own a private residence at the hotel?” Fallon inquired.

“Correct. A show of wealth, power, and connection. Amir took Samuel Allard to the Michelin-starred Al Muntaha inside the Burj. I didn’t make it all the way up to the twenty-seventh floor, and I’ve never eaten there, but I know you’re not leaving there without spending three thousand dirham before wine and champagne. Then they spent the rest of the evening at the Skyview Bar. Another show of wealth, but Samuel isn’t of the same buying power as Maxwell, so he’s got in-your-face money but not show-off money.”