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“Sure,” GQ said as if he also needed some fresh air. “I’ll see you back there.”
Preacher turned away and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. The streets were deserted, the streetlights casting halos on the empty sidewalk, the moths fluttering in clusters around the elements. He walked from one halo to the next, a hollow ache spreading through him. He flashed back to that night in the helicopter when he’d been alone with Iceman, who was flying like a bat out of hell. Preacher was dying. He could feel the life draining out of him. He knew it was getting close to the end and his regret and pain only deepened. He was scared and felt alone, so full of dread. The worst thing had happened. He’d let down one of his teammates. He remembered thinking there was no way to come back from that.
He would never get the chance to make it right.
And, here he was, unable to make it right.
Trying to will away the sudden constriction in his throat, Preacher lifted his head, focusing on the next halo of light. Then he froze right in his tracks. A woman crossed the street in front of him. He’d know that straight dark hair, that perfect, tight ass in black leather, the loose, easy way she walked, like her feet didn’t touch the ground.
All his ghosts were haunting him tonight.
Karasu.
3
The neonblue light from Klub Plasma Blue flashed on and off in the darkened street, the flicker creating a sporadic film of blue in the inky puddle collecting along the curb. It had been raining steadily now for the last five minutes, the temperature dropping into the fifties.
But Karasu was snug and comfy in her skintight, CIA-provided waterproof but stretchy faux-black-leather catsuit with a built-in bulletproof vest and neck guard, the stealth booties on her feet part of the garment, everything fleece-lined. She wore a short black jacket over the suit, which was made out of the same material.
Her heel disrupted the puddle as she reached the sidewalk, blurring the color with ripples of silver. She had landed only twenty minutes ago, but her intel from her underground source was good. Savic’s ring was up and running in this part of the world and why not? It was his old stomping grounds. He wasn’t choosy about which country he kidnapped girls and women from, as long as they were young, usable, and pretty.
The fucker.
He had been elusive for many years, always seeming to be one step ahead of her when she found the time to pursue him in between her CIA gigs. Rain pelted her face and rattled against the surrounding windows of apartments, businesses, and parked cars, soaking into her long hair. She pulled off the flexible black band from her wrist and quickly spiraled the damp mass into a long twist, wrapping it into a tight bun on top of her head. She scanned the street, her thoughts detached as she felt the gust of wind against her exposed skin, sending rain dancing along the pavement.
Her goal was a block away. A tattoo shop in the front, but something entirely different in the back, camouflage for Savic’s operation, run by his sleazy cousin, Sergei.
The street ahead of her was somber and cloaked in gray, the colorful European-style and Austrian-influenced structures dark in places where the dim streetlights couldn’t reach, bleeding out the vibrant colors. The lights of the shops were visible in the gloom, the only pinpoints of brightness.
Traffic crept down the street, brake lights flashing as drivers slowed to accommodate the downpour. Staring into the darkness, Karasu snagged her hood from the pocket of the coat and pulled it over her head and face. Waiting for two pedestrians to pass, she hugged the shadows, then when there was a break in the traffic, she went to cross the street. A truck passed from her left, and she stepped off the curb, catching a glimpse of a dark sedan parked in the narrow slot next to the tattoo shop. Suddenly, its headlights came on and Karasu ducked into a doorway to avoid the light.
The car inched forward to pull out into traffic, and the oncoming van’s lights illuminated the interior for a split second. Karasu caught a glimpse of the passenger when the headlights angled away from her position. One who was frighteningly familiar.
Ja Savic!
Her surprise was so electric, adrenaline loaded into her bloodstream, her heart hammering as anger and fear churned through her. She had expected to get answers out of Sergei, not find Ja here.
Realizing that once the oncoming van passed, the sedan would have a clear lane to leave, Karasu reacted. Darting around the back of the van, she sprinted across the street, alarm compressing her lungs and determination hardening her resolve. She had him. Closer than she had ever been to ending this cat-and-mouse game.
But she wasn’t fast enough. As soon as the van passed, the sedan wheeled out into traffic and the car sped up. She flew down the sidewalk, careless of the puddles collecting on the concrete, disregarding the muddy water splashing her legs. If the car got away, she would lose her chance to end her torment, get her revenge. The nightmare would continue.
Just as she gained, almost close enough to the door to pull it open and drag him out to face her retribution, a truck came out of an alley, the large vehicle blocking her line of sight. Fear rising in her, she lengthened her stride to an all-out sprint, her breathing coming in labored gasps as she raced past the truck, frantic to catch the departing car.
Praying the driver couldn’t see her in his rearview mirror, she twisted past a parked car, her dash bringing her to an abrupt stop. The street was empty. Karasu jerked around in a circle at the four corners, a sickening rush clutching at her as she searched. But the sedan had disappeared down one of four possible streets. She couldn’t search them all in time.
She’d just lost her best chance at getting Ja. Her chest heaving and her lungs on fire, she clenched her fists, the sharp rush of disappointment giving way to crushing anger. She’d been so close. So close. One damn truck, and she was right back to where she’d started.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood in the rain. Long enough for her breath to slow back to normal and her mind to clear.
She still had one lead and she was going to make sure her mark gave her all the information she needed.
She turned on her heel and started back for the tattoo shop, the rain beginning to let up, her heart still slamming in her chest, the desire for revenge nearly overwhelming her common sense. She would get to him. She had a trail to follow. Rounding the corner, she stepped into the full force of the wind-driven rain, the cold drops pelting her.
It had been a jolt seeing him again. Eight years. Eight damned years. She didn’t want to be reminded of how he had brutalized her, didn’t want to remember how terrified and alone she’d been. And she didn’t want to think about the damage and the knowledge that her shame and humiliation would never allow her to go home ever again. That had damned near screwed her up for good.
She’d escaped with a huge chunk of Ja’s money, for which she was sure he was pissed, bought her way to the United States, studied for and took her GED, enrolled in self-defense classes, and entered college. It was where she’d been recruited by the CIA and she’d been unable to let her past rest, especially with the contacts she’d made during her CIA career. Unknown to the Company, she’d started searching for Ja two years ago. She wasn’t sure they would really care even if they knew. Being rogue was what she did. It was expected of her to go off the grid and turn into the shadow she had become. She would be much more effective at her job.
When she got the tattoo parlor back in her sights, she went around the back, saw that there was a van parked behind the structure. The vehicle was probably used to move the victims. She peered inside and her gut clenched. On the floor was a fluffy teddy bear. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth.
