parents stole the ledger and key from me originally, yes?” Adrik’s lips twitched, his anger evident by the rigid set of his mouth and the hardness in his eyes. “My sources told me that the SVR found the ledger in the safe of your parents’ home the night the FBI killed them, but I knew your father well. He would never hide something of such value in his home.”
And what was she supposed to say? No sense in denying the truth.
“The forger you have been looking for, your father hired him, correct?” Grigory asked when Ana had yet to answer Adrik’s question. “Did you really think we didn’t know the truth all these years? That I didn’t remember you and your family being down in the tunnels the night of my birthday, a week before all hell broke loose?”
She’d expected the conversation to go this way, so she reminded herself to stick to the plan and remain steadfast. “The forger only made a copy of the ledger, not the key. The originals were hidden in the tunnels, and they were meant to be returned to your family, but then my parents were murdered.” She maintained an even tone, which was easier to do knowing A.J. was out there somewhere, and he’d have her back. When she heard his voice as she was being led out of the tunnel near the river, she’d done her best to hide her relief. Shooting him was the last thing she’d wanted to do, but A.J. had insisted it’d be the best way to prove her loyalty if it came to that, and he’d been right. “They never wanted your family to be slaughtered by the SVR. They only borrowed the book and key.”
Adrik rested an elbow on the chair arm, his palm settling on his cheek. Eyes thoughtful as he observed her.
“I assume you found the ledger in the tunnels. I also assume you haven’t found the key, or I wouldn’t be here.” Ana took a step forward, and out of her peripheral view, glimpsed the guards on each side of the room, bringing their hands to their holsters.
“She says her father made a translated copy of the ledger,” Grigory told Adrik, his Eastern European accent thicker than when they’d spoken on the phone. Turning to Ana, he snarled, “Where is it?”
“So you can kill me?” she challenged.
Adrik suddenly rose and stood before her, towering over her petite frame. He drew the back of his hand over the curve of her cheek.
She swallowed and did her best not to flinch or recoil at his touch. To remain confident and grounded.
“I thought you were dead all these years. Needless to say, I was quite shocked when you reached out to Dominick.” Adrik’s tone was low and hoarse. A lifetime smoker, perhaps.
“My parents wanted out of your organization, but as I mentioned, they did not want anyone to die.” She kept her chin up to try and command more confidence before him. “To protect you from the Russians, they planned to give you back the originals. But the translated copy was meant for the FBI.”
“I never should have trusted your parents. I had concerns they’d been in America too long before they were activated.” Adrik slid his palm from her cheek and forcefully cupped the back of her head, grabbing her hair and jerking her closer to him. His other hand gripped hold of her chin, demanding her eyes on his face. “They became petty thieves.”
Maybe not so petty and small-time since they stole the “unstealable” from Adrik, but she kept that thought to herself.
“The FBI was already coming down on your organization. Surely you knew that. And the SVR would have gotten to your ledger one way or another to destroy you all. Your people would’ve been safer in FBI custody. Jail is better than death.” In her mind, at least.
His clean-shaven jaw tightened at her comment. “Where is the copy? No time for your games. We have waited long enough.” He brought his face closer, his smoke-infused breath fanning over her skin. “Fifteen years in hiding. We want our revenge.”
“Against me? The SVR? Who?” she countered, maintaining her resolve.
In a quick movement, Adrik twisted the handful of hair in his grasp. Ana clenched her teeth and stifled a yelp at the sharp sting on her scalp.
A flurry of Russian words came from the armed guards a moment later, and within seconds, the familiar sound of gunshots began pelting the fiberglass exterior of the boat.