how can I be assured that you will not betray me the way you betrayed the Americans? How can I know that this is not an elaborate ruse to put a mole inside my business?”
Oliver was prepared for this as well. “I will not betray you because I am Russian. My mother was Russian. My grandparents who raised me were Russian. My soul is Russian. No, I will not betray you, Pakhan. Besides, where else would I go?”
Zharkov stared at Grey for a long moment, his eyes studying him for any hint of deception. There was no blink, no darting of the eyes, no twitch of the tiny facial muscles, nothing.
“What do you propose?”
“Just a fair stipend and an apartment with a view.”
Zharkov considered the proposition.
“Twenty million rubles a year and a comfortable flat in one of my buildings where you will be safe.”
Grey would have taken less but didn’t want to seem overly eager. Twenty million rubles was roughly $300,000 U.S. Not bad for a wanted man.
“That is very generous of you, Pakhan, but there is one other thing.”
“Which is?”
“I want a man dead.”
CHAPTER 4
Kumba Ranch, Flathead Valley, Montana
REECE SETTLED INTO THE cabin and put what few possessions he had into the bedroom’s dresser drawers and closet. He was struck by how quiet it was. He liked it. There was no television, Wi-Fi, or cell service. The Hastings family used two-way radios to communicate on the ranch, as they were the only reliable means of staying in touch. Repeater stations placed upon various peaks and ridges ensured that one was usually in range.
He opened the French doors that led toward the lake and walked toward the shoreline in the crisp, clean air. There were a pair of Adirondack chairs near a stone fire ring just feet from the water’s edge. Reece took a seat and admired the view. Who would occupy the other? His pregnant wife, Lauren, and their daughter, Lucy, had been gone for almost two years now, murdered in their home as part of the cover-up of a deep-state medical experiment gone wrong. Avenging their deaths had brought him closure. Or, had it? His mission accomplished; what he hadn’t expected was to live. He’d thought he was dying, a tumor slowly killing him from within. He had counted on joining his wife and daughter in the afterlife.
Africa had taught Reece to live again, but the Agency had tracked him down in Mozambique, sending his old sniper school partner Freddy Strain to recruit him. The carrot was that he could have his life back; the stick was that those who had helped him would go down. Reece chose the carrot. He had done what was asked of him; he’d killed the terrorist leader whose attacks had put the continent of Europe under siege, as well as the former GRU colonel who had masterminded the campaign of terror in an attempt to pave the way for his triumphant return to lead Russia back from the brink. Freddy had died saving the life of the president of the United States, taken by a sniper’s bullet, a sniper who still walked free. A sniper Reece planned to kill. Reece would find him and the CIA mole who had provided the intelligence for the operation. In time, both would die.
His debt to America having been paid following the events in Odessa, Reece’s new boss at the CIA, Vic Rodriguez, provided a safe house in Annapolis that Reece could use while he prepared for, and recovered from, surgery. Vic was slowly turning up the pressure, continuing his personal recruitment efforts on the former SEAL, who remained noncommittal.
Reece’s friend Katie Buranek was like a guardian angel; she’d been by his side as he was wheeled into surgery and stood vigil while he recovered. She lived nearby in Old Town Alexandria. There she could work the D.C. Fox News desk and commute to their New York headquarters. It also allowed them to pick up where their friendship had left off. She had helped him unravel the conspiracy that launched him on his mission of vengeance, and she had paid the price, almost losing her life in the process. Unbeknownst to the former frogman, the tough young journalist had questions she needed answered; in matters of the heart, trust was paramount.
* * *
Snow was falling on a morning when Katie came to see Reece after one of his physical therapy sessions. He was only a week out from surgery and would soon be leaving for Montana.