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To Kira.
Why would she leave the Brighton Park house? Why would Rurik let her?
He didn’t understand, but they were only minutes away from finding out. It would be okay. The raid on Musa’s house had been a shit show, but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that he lay eyes on Kira, that he know she was okay.
The other Rovers were behind them, filled with Roman’s men. Lyon was almost positive it was unnecessary, but after the way things had gone so far, he didn’t dare take a chance.
Not with Kira’s life.
They reached the turnoff for the Baranov house and Alek turned hard, then punched the gas, accelerating up the winding drive toward the massive house.
Lyon’s worry eased when the house came into view. Rurik’s car was parked out front, along with the Mercedes driven by Viktor, but that was all.
He waited for the car to stop, jumped out, and headed for the front door.
It was open, light leaking from inside the house.
He held up his weapon and waited until Alek and the other men were in position behind him. Then he advanced into the house, moving quickly but carefully.
He sent Roman’s men upstairs and indicated that Alek should follow him. They made their way down the main hall, clearing the rooms as they went, an eerie silence trickling like poison through Lyon’s veins.
It didn’t make sense. Something was wrong. He knew it even though everything looked exactly as it should.
They approached the study doors and Lyon heard the sound of heavy breathing. Then, a groan.
He stood to the side of the door and waited for Alek to get into position, then stepped quickly into the room with his gun drawn.
It was empty. Or it looked empty at first. A second later he saw Rurik was on the floor, blood seeping from his chest. Next to him lay Viktor Baranov, eyes open and unseeing as they stared at the ceiling, a hole rimmed with blood marking his forehead.
Panic clawed at Lyon as he looked around.
Where was Kira?
“He’s alive,” Alek shouted, dropping next to Rurik’s body.
He opened his eyes, and he looked at Lyon. “Sorry… Eight of them… outnumbered.”
“It’s okay,” Lyon said. “Hang tight. We’ll get you a doctor. Where is Kira?”
“Panic… room.” Rurik’s eyes flitted to one of the bookshelves. “Behind Pushkin.”
Lyon scanned the shelves, found the collection of poems by Pushkin. When he removed it, he saw the hidden keypad that must control the door to Viktor’s panic room.
“What’s the code?” he asked Rurik.
“Don’t know…” His eyes drifted closed.
Lyon banged on the bookcase, shouting her name, desperate to see for herself that she was okay. Desperate to know that of all the mistakes he’d made, losing her wasn’t one of them.
* * *
Kira froze, her ear catching something on the other side of the wall. She’d lost track of time inside the panic room, had no idea how long she and Lina had been in the small, spartan room.
“I think I hear something,” she said.
Lina came closer. “I hear it too.”
It was her name. It was faint, but someone was calling her name.
