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The more I think about it, the more I realize the answer—no.
I’m resourceful. I could have figured out a way to provide without selling my soul.
Slowly, I rise from my chair and smile at Mr. and Mrs. Pritt. “Thank you for the tea and cookies. Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer, but your daughter is a traitor to the United States of America. I’m going to leave peacefully, after which I’ll call off my snipers while making a phone call to the Feds. They should be here in a few minutes to arrest Melissa and charge her with treason. If you’re smart, the two of you won’t try and interfere, or you might be charged with aiding and abetting a criminal. Try not to move before I tell the snipers to stand down, okay?”
I start toward the door, casually walking out onto the porch. I cross the road at a leisurely pace, headed straight for the black SUV with tinted windows about a block away. I get into the car just as Mikhail, Dimitri, and Pyotr round the corner from their hiding places, quickly pocketing the little handheld lasers I gave them.
“That didnotfeel good,” Dimitri comments as he climbs in behind the wheel, hurriedly twisting the keys in the ignition.
I shrug. “There was no way I was going to let you point real guns at them. I’m not that cold. Did you hear everything?”
Pyotr pulls his phone out and ends the call. We’d been connected the entire time, my own device hidden in my jacket pocket. “Loud and clear.”
I sink into my seat as we pull away in a hurry. “Next stop, Alaska.”
Chapter 35
Dani
Thankfully, the Antonovs are well connected. It’s apparently not uncommon for them to charter a flight at a moment’s notice. I guess being billionaires—regardless of whether that wealth was obtained legally or otherwise—comes with its perks.
“We like to travel in style,” Dimitri says lightly as we wait on the tarmac of a private landing strip. How he’s able to remain so calm and chipper is beyond me. Although, I’d gladly take his sunny disposition over the gloom and doom Mikhail and Pyotr seem to exude.
“This is your last chance,” Mikhail warns me. “If you have any doubts about this, you’d better turn back now before it’s too late.”
“I’m not backing out,” I say firmly.
“This could get dangerous.” Pyotr asks. He speaks like the beat of a drum, loud and flat, but I don’t get the sense that he’s being unkind.
“I’m aware of the risks.”
“You heard Pritt,” Dimitri comments. “Roughly a hundred mercs, all armed and ready to protect The Trinity.”
I hold my breath, my resolve unshaken. “The only reason I’m standing here today is because Luka sacrificed himself for me. The few precious seconds he gave me made all the difference. I’ve already made up my mind. I’m going to do whatever I can to get him out of there, so don’t try and convince me otherwise.”
Something warm glints in Mikhail’s eyes. “I can see why he likes you.Ty sil’nyy i ognennyy.”
“Vse nashi zheny takiye,” Dimitri says with a hearty laugh.
I frown. “What are you guys saying?”
Pyotr chuckles. It’s a strange sound, coming from him. I didn’t think he knew how. “You’re one of us now,” he says. “You’re going to have to start learning some Russian.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
“Why wait?” Dimitri teases. “We can start your lessons on the plane.”
* * *
York, Alaska. 8:45 p.m.
It may be the middle of summer, but Alaska isn’t exactly known for being boiling hot. At night, temperatures plummet to just above freezing. Thankfully, there aren’t very many compounds to speak of in the area, so finding The Trinity turned out to be easier than I first expected.
The Antonov brothers and I lie flat atop a distant hill, at least five hundred feet between us at the compound. The Trinity has done a very good job of fortifying the place. Something tells me that while Luka and I spent a month in the bunker, Konstantin, Levitksy, and Salkov were all busy setting this place up.
Its location amidst the hills means they’re well hidden, a thick line of pine trees blocking the possibility of a direct path forward. Around the edge of the perimeter is a tall cement wall with barbed wiring over the top to prevent anyone from climbing over. I count five watchtowers, all of which are manned by a pair of guards—one with a rifle, and another on the lookout with a pair of powerful binoculars.
I have my own pair shoved up to my face, the cold metal freezing my eyes. My attention is immediately drawn to the patrol teams circling the compound. Teams of four; a couple of the teams have guard dogs. And I’m sure there are all manner of tripwires and sensors in the forested area leading up to the property. This is starting to feel incredibly daunting.
