21. Kai

TWENTY-ONE

Kai

The dull hum of the ventilation system filled the room as I sat on the edge of the bed, my mind racing with thoughts of escape and reconnaissance. This wasn't how I had envisioned spending my time here—locked away with nothing but my own thoughts for company, in a room set up with two sets of bunk beds and a tiny bathroom. I was a prisoner, because they sure as hell locked the door on me, and my first instinct was to get out, but that wasn't playing the long game.

Stay where you are, play it slow, don't lose control.

I wish Zach would get out of my head, his warnings and his sexy ass.

"Because I have it bad," I muttered to the empty room, and now I had too much time on my hands to not think about Zach and sex and his refusal to talk. Well, fuck that. When I got out of here I was shoving the annoying, closed-up, bossy SEAL against a wall, and forcing him to talk.

Or fuck.

Whatever.

Maybe sex was our love language. Gah, who said anything about love.

Footsteps outside the door brought me out of my reverie, and I sat straight, feet on the floor, my muscles tensing. The door swung open, revealing Abel standing on the other side, a tray of food in his hands.

"Food," he grunted, thrusting the tray towards me without meeting my eyes.

I didn't sweep his feet from under him and then render him unconscious in two swift movements because that was not playing the game I needed to play. So, I took the tray from him, my stomach growling in appreciation at the sight of the sandwich and bottle of water. "Thanks for nothing," I muttered, but Abel had already turned on his heel, shut and locked the door, then left me alone once more.

I sighed, eating the sandwich as I tried to piece together what little information I had about my current situation. I was being kept here, but I'd done the job. The envelope of cash was on the table bolted to the wall, and they hadn't killed me, so I couldn't have been made. Even so, there I was, sitting on my ass and unable to do shit.

Hours passed in silence, the only sound the occasional drip of water from the faucet in the bathroom, or me humming Iron Maiden or grunting as I did pushups. I hated inactivity, and I'd lost all sense of time, my singular frame of reference the arrival of food—or what passed for it—because there was no freaking window.

Eventually, the lock jangled and the door creaked open once more, and this time it was Yuri looming in the doorway, a tray of food in each hand.

"Yurinator! Glad to see a not-so-friendly face," I added.

He entered the room without a word, as Abel shut the door closed on us both. Yuri's expression was unreadable as he set the trays down on the bunk opposite mine.

"Sit," he grunted, gesturing for me to join him.

I hesitated for a moment, studying the big Russian warily before obeying his command with exaggerated reluctance. The silence wasn't tense as we were eating and lost in our own thoughts.

"What's going on, Yuri?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. "Why did they lock me in here?"

Yuri remained silent for a moment, his focus on the wall across from us, then flicking toward me as he frowned. "You stay," he said, his voice gruff. "You wait."

I frowned, frustration bubbling up inside me. "Wait for what?" I demanded, but Yuri shrugged, refusing to meet my eyes.

Frustration turned to anger as I realized the futility of trying to get answers out of him. "Fuck this," I muttered, pushing the tray away from me. "I'm not going to sit here and rot while you assholes play your games."

With that, I stood, determined to find a way out of this place, whatever the cost. But as I moved towards the door, Yuri's hand shot out, gripping my arm.

"You stay safe," he growled, his eyes flashing with warning.

I met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Try and stop me," I challenged, but Yuri's grip tightened, his expression darkening with anger.

Locked in a battle of wills, we refused to give an inch. But then, with a frustrated grunt, Yuri released his hold on me, allowing me to step back.

I shot him one last glare before trying the handle of the door, kind of shocked when it opened and I could step through. The fuck?

As I stormed out of the room, my heart pounding with adrenalin-fueled determination, I half expected Yuri to grab me and drag me back inside. But to my surprise, he fell into step beside me, his heavy footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

I shot him a sideways glance, confused. "What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice laced with suspicion.

Yuri's expression remained impassive as he replied, "We get your weapon."

I paused mid-stride, taken aback by his unexpected offer. "What the fuck was I locked up for then?" I asked.

Yuri grunted in response, his stoic demeanor giving nothing away. But as he turned and headed left at the end of the corridor, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

"Wait," I called out after him, my instincts kicking into overdrive. "Was this some kind of test?"

Yuri paused for a moment, his back still turned to me. "I don't know," he replied cryptically before disappearing into a room.

I watched him go, my mind racing with a million different possibilities. If Yuri didn't know, was this Kozlov or Indigo testing me? Seeing if I'd try to get out? Or was Yuri now handing me my gun some trap designed to lure me into a false sense of security? I hated being undercover, even if I got to fly.

With a shake of my head, I pushed aside my doubts and focused on the task. Whatever Yuri's motives, I couldn't afford to waste this opportunity.

I clenched my jaw in frustration, but I refused to let his stoicism deter me. "Fine," I muttered under my breath, my tone clipped. "I'll do it myself."

To my surprise, Yuri turned up next to me and followed like my shadow as I walked down the hallway. Though he remained silent, his presence was a silent acknowledgment of my decision.

I retraced my steps to the comm room I'd glimpsed earlier. With determination, I pushed it open, revealing the same rows of monitors and computer screens flickering with activity.

"A lot of computers, right?" I said to Yuri as if I wasn't scanning the equipment with a practiced eye, ready to tell Zach what I'd seen in better detail. I stopped and crouched, Yuri scowling at me when I stopped. "Lace," I said, and messed with the lace I'd loosened when back in my room.

I slipped the small chip free and palmed it, making a show of double knotting my laces. It was a delicate operation to plant this, requiring precision and finesse to avoid detection, but somehow I needed to get this small chip near the main server. Not that this place was structured, more a random network of four laptops plus the three screens. With a steady hand, I walked closer to the screens, all casual, and leaned in to check out the first screen—security footage from the main road. Then I turned away without bothering to check the other screens as if I didn't care what they showed.

I attached the chip under the desk, hoping to hell it stuck. Glancing up, I caught Yuri's gaze on me for a moment. His attention slipped from me to the door, and he gestured we needed to leave. I resumed my facade of casual indifference, my mind already racing ahead to gettting back to town. Shadow Team would dial in, or whatever the computer eggheads did, and they'd have all the intel they needed, and all I had to do was wait for exfil.

Yuri guided me… no, more like herded me… out of the room and down another corridor.

"I need fresh air," I announced, and he pushed open the next door and stepped outside, widening the space to let me through. A cool breeze greeted me, and it was growing dark again, and I took a deep breath, allowing the crisp air to fill my lungs and clear my mind as I contemplated my next move. "You don't have to watch me," I said.

Yuri raised an eyebrow, then stiffened when something caught his eye behind me. I pivoted to check it out.

A man with slicked-back gray hair and a sharp suit moved toward me with the confidence of someone accustomed to command. Flanked by four new guards I hadn't seen before, his presence commanded attention, and I felt a ripple of tension coursing through the air.

Kozlov was on-site.

Beside me, Yuri stiffened. "Stay quiet," he warned under his breath, with Kozlov still thirty paces away.

"N'awww, it's like you care," I murmured, but Yuri didn't react.

I felt a chill run down my spine as Kozlov's icy stare bore into mine with an intensity that made it clear he was not a man to be trifled with. His lips curved into a sly smile, but a dangerous glint lurked beneath the surface, a silent warning of the consequences of crossing him.

"Moy ublyudok plemyannik," Kozlov said to Yuri. I spoke enough Russian to curse, and I knew part of it was "bastard," but the rest was lost.

"Dyadya," Yuri replied, and nope, I didn't know what that was at all, but I saw Yuri's dead-eyed expression, and whatever word he said, it was heavy with contempt.

Kozlov snorted a laugh and said something to his closest guard, causing the man to chuckle.

Kozlov turned his attention to me. "And you replace useless dead pilot, yes?" His voice was smooth as silk but laced with an underlying threat. His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed hard, steeling myself under the weight of his scrutiny.

His mention of Viper sent a clear message: Viper had outlived his usefulness and knew too much. Ergo, dead.

"KD Raynes." I met Kozlov's gaze head-on and even offered my hand, which he ignored with a sneer.

"American," he summarized.

"Canadian," I corrected.

He stepped into my space, so close I could see a scar near his lip, and murder in his eyes. This was one time I needed to show respect to someone who hadn't earned it, but fuck, I had my gun; he was a breath away, and two bullets between his eyes, and problem solved.

I'd be dead, but in the ledger of good versus evil, he was worth more to the world dead.

Of course, that also meant I wouldn't get to talk to Zach about us, and I wasn't going to risk losing that.

He drew a finger from my eye to my chin, then tipped my head to look up at him, a lascivious grin splitting his face.

"Chertovski khoroshen'kiy mal'chik," he muttered.

I froze with indecision over who I should kill first.

Yuri shoved me aside, then moved between me and Kozlov, talking in rapid-fire Russian, gesturing at the 'korsky, and then at the storage area where they'd prepared the cargo for last night's run. Whatever he was saying hit a nerve with our resident oligarch, who was red-faced. I watched the scene unfold, a knot of dread forming in my stomach. Yuri's rapid-fire Russian exchange with Kozlov was unsettling, but when Kozlov snarled something back at him, Yuri's sudden outburst sent shockwaves through the group.

He lunged forward, his grip on Kozlov tight and in an instant, the scene erupted into chaos as two guards seized Yuri by the arms, their iron grips restraining him with brutal force. A third guard delivered a barrage of blows, each strike landing with sickening thuds as Yuri was forced to his knees, blood flecking his face .

I tensed, desperate to help, but before I could take a single step, a firm hand clamped down on my shoulder, holding me back. I struggled in the grip, my gaze locked on Yuri's plight, not knowing what the fuck was going on and powerless to intervene even if I could, or should. I mean, Yuri was a bad guy; Kozlov was a bad guy, as far as I was concerned, if the two went head-to-head, it was mutually assured destruction, and I hoped I wasn't taken out as collateral.

Kozlov spat on the ground as Yuri stumbled to stand, but Yuri lifted his chin and met Kozlov's stare with his own. Then Kozlov chuckled again—what was it with the bad guys and chuckling?—and patted Yuri on the face. I expected Yuri to lose his shit, but all he did was stand there and take the patronizing tap.

The hell?

Kozlov and his entourage headed inside, and I could follow them and get more intel, or stay out here and find out what the fuck had just happened.

"What the fuck was that?" I asked Yuri, who rubbed at his belly where he'd taken most of the punches.

"Pretty fuck boy," he said, "I save."

"What?" Pretty fuck boy? That was a new one? Yuri rolled his eyes then turned sharply and strode toward the 'korsky. Something about Yuri didn't sit right. He'd confronted Kozlov and survived, and our intel revealed that people who defied Kozlov usually disappeared.

"Wait a fucking minute," I snapped, as I followed him like some kind of lapdog. "Hold. Up!" I grabbed at his arm, and all that tension in him spun at me and he had me pushed against a tree in an instant. "What the fuck was that?"

He released me. "Family," he said and then carried on to the 'korsky, his strides long. I caught up to him and this time, when I gripped him, he stopped dead.

" Your family?"

Yuri sneered.

Welp. Interesting turn of events. Potential rebellious family member, Kozlov the murdering oligarch, and millions of dollars in drugs. How much did Yuri know about the drugs and the mines, and exactly how deep was he embroiled? We could take out Kozlov with extreme prejudice and still have an inside source to pump for information. I added Yuri to my list and knew that Zach would cream himself over this new development.

I just had to make it back to him to tell him.

Oh, and to have that damn talk.