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“No worries. I’d get yourself a disguise or two.”
A disguise. Trained militia would have recognition software in whatever device they used. Once they homed in on us as targets, it would be a matter of thirty seconds before our identities would be secured. However, thirty seconds might mean the difference between life and death.
“Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good enough. You should hear something from me later tonight. Maybe we can talk about old times when you get here.”
He and I both knew we’d never discuss the incident again. It was far too painful. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I’ll make a few calls. This might be pulling in a few last favors, but for you, I’d do anything.”
We’d sworn to have each other’s backs, only the other men who’d taken the pledge hadn’t survived. We were both haunted by the experience.
“Thanks, Jeremy.” I ended the call, securing my weapon in my jacket pocket. It didn’t matter how small the town or its location. I refused to allow the operation to be derailed by one bad decision. I left the vehicle where it was, acting as if I wasn’t in a hurry when the last thing I wanted to do was be gone for an extended period of time.
When I’d left Isabella, her huge doe eyes had been zoned on me, the corners of her mouth tilted up in a smile. She’d kept the Beretta in her hands, unafraid of using it. I’d sensed that in her the moment she’d taken the weapon from my hand. I’d been right in my assessment of her. She had more strength than most people gave her credit for.
However, one woman with a weapon would mean nothing to a group of Russian soldiers. I took long strides down the sidewalk, constantly scanning the other side of the street. As I entered the bank, I repeated the same action, always concerned. Always second guessing. That had kept me alive more than once.
I waited in line, something I hated to do. Two minutes turned into five. Then ten. I couldn’t stand waiting. I had no patience. Still. In the same place.
“You’re American trash!” one yelled. “You’re hungry. Eat this.” As he tossed a rat into the hole, I lunged toward the opening, able to crawl up the dirt wall by several feet.
“You fucking asshole. I will kill you first.”
The prod was sharp, the point digging into my shoulder. As soon as the jolt of electricity tore through me, I dug my fingers into the earth, letting off a primal roar. The fuckers would never beat me. Never.
“Sir. Can I help you, sir?”
Blinking several times, I tried to pull myself out of the memory. There was a sudden tickling sensation and I almost snapped, sensing bugs crawling all over me. After taking a deep breath, I lifted my hand, wiping the substance away. Beads of sweat on my forehead.
Fuck. A vision hadn’t been that hallucinogenic for years.
“Sir. Do you need help?”
The woman’s voice finally dragged me all the way out of the delusion. Swallowing, I walked toward the teller, sliding the slip of paper holding Jeremy’s information. “I need a wire transfer.”
“Do you have an account with us?”
A nagging feeling swept through me, similar to the one I’d felt when the first car had spotted us. I shifted toward the window onto the street, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. “Yes, I do.” As I relayed the information, waiting for the confirmation, I continued watching. The last thing I needed was to fall into the trap of convincing myself there were issues, men ready to crash the party unexpectedly. That would only create another moment of chaos.
I said nothing as the transaction was completed, leaving the bank satisfied the plan was put into motion. Jeremy wouldn’t fail me. He had connections both legal and illegal. I never asked questions. If I needed something, he’d always come through. This would be a test for him, the odds of safely getting to Lisbon now at forty percent. If he managed to get us on anything but a commercial flight, I’d give it a fifty/fifty. After that, it was all about disappearing for long enough the Russians would grow bored or meet their maker.
After leaving the bank, I did what I could, purchasing several items in order to effectively create disguises. If we lived through the next two days, making it to Lisbon alive, a more permanent solution would be needed.
As I headed for the car, I passed a small store and stopped. It was a quaint shop exactly like you’d find in a small town, eclectic in very feminine offerings. I couldn’t remember the last present I’d bought for anyone, let alone a woman, but something gnawing inside of me said Isabella needed something of comfort in order to keep her compliant.
Happiness wasn’t on the menu.
I walked inside, ready to jerk the little bell announcing a new customer off the inside of the door. An older woman approached almost immediately, giving me a quick onceover.
“Can I help you find something special for your lady?” she asked.
“Just a friend.”
She laughed, which for some reason irritated me. I turned my head toward her and she immediately flushed.
“I’m sorry. It’s just when a man buys a gift for a ‘friend’ he’s usually terrified to admit how strongly he feels about her.” I continued staring at her. “I know. None of my business.” She backed away, but her comment lingered in my mind.
