Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

We rode in the Escalade to the airport in silence, and true to Satin’s word, we were not bothered by the TSA—her car zoomed around a frontage road, then in through a gate that men in uniforms opened for us, so that we could drive to a hangar where a jet with a Bombardier Global logo on the side waited.

“Didn’t you pack?” I asked, pulling my bag out of the back.

“My luggage is already on board,” she said, and started walking for the jet’s extended stairway.

Once we were inside, the stairs folded up behind us, and the jet started wheeling out of the hanger at once. The pilots made announcements overhead, while I was trying to figure out how to get a seatbelt around my lap before realizing we were flying private, it didn’t matter, and giving up.

“They’re not exactly monster-sized. Sorry,” Satin said, hearing the buckle clatter as I dropped it. “Neither is the bathroom here—I probably should’ve warned you about that back at your place.”

I grunted, and shrugged, a gesture she couldn’t see.

“But, this is safer,” she said, waving a hand up ahead of us. “The pilots have a bathroom up there, so they have no reason to be coming back here. And the steel doors mean they can’t hear us.”

I looked around at the jet’s opulent interior, all warm leather, brass, and glass, with tons of crevices some enterprising person could’ve shoved a bug in. “And you’re not worried about anyone having compromised the plane, since you were in it last?”

She shook her head briskly. “I’ve got a lot of tech in here,” she said, holding up her phone. “I’d know.”

“Interesting. Seeing as you carve with a hammer and chisel.”

She gave a soft snort. “I’m complicated. What can I say.”

“Well if we’re truly safe—you can start from the beginning.”

I watched her lick her lips. “I’ve acquired a list of very well off men and women who’ve been accepting bribes from a large criminal organization that I feel personally driven to bring down.”

I felt one of my furry eyebrows crawling up my forehead. “Could you be more specific? We’re not in a movie here.”

I watched her cheeks lift up beneath her blindfold as she squinted, presumably in anger. “My father refused to accept bribes, so they made an example out of him.”

It took me a moment after that, as I watched her compose herself, to realize that she wasn’t angry with me—but at what had happened in her past.

“The story I told you earlier was the one all the news accounts reported. But what happened in reality is that they burned him with magnesium alloy devices. Alive. And made me watch,” she said, pointing to the blindfold on her face.

“Jesus,” I whispered.

“Yes,” she agreed. “But at the time, he was nowhere to be seen.” She took an inhale and continued ruefully. “I was kidnapped after that. My family had to pay a very large ransom for my return, but by then it was too late. With no subsequent medical care, I’d lost the ability to see.”

I weighed her, tilting my head, glad the ceiling height here allowed for my horns to move freely. “But not to want revenge.”

“Forgiveness is for people with weaker wills, Aceon—the kind of people who want to make excuses.”

“I get that. But…” I continued slowly. “Why me?”

“Out of all the somewhat lawless mercenary groups comprised of monsters out there—the Monster Security Agency was the only one that was bribe free. In all locations.”

I felt a moment of proprietary pride. “Glad to hear it. So, what’s the mission?”

“I have three encrypted dead drops lined up for my information. We need to get to all of them before Christmas Eve—and if everything goes according to plan, then everyone who’s participated in criminal activity on this organization’s behalf will be exposed—on three different continents. It has to be that way so it cannot be discredited, and no one can dismiss it as a prank or conspiracy.”

“Before Christmas Eve?” I said, a little stunned. “That’s only five days away.”

She gave a short laugh, as she undid her seatbelt. “Well, once you get across the Atlantic Ocean, the rest of the continents are a lot closer.” After that she stood, keeping a supporting hand on the backs of one seat after another as she made her way down the aisle. “I’m going into the back to sleep, there’s a bedroom. Your chair folds down—you should probably get some rest now, while you can. I’ll make sure we’re up with enough time for me to debrief you.”

“And just where are we going first?” I called after her.

“Moscow.”