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Bounty Hunter Honor
Kara Lennox


WHEN A CHILD GOES MISSING…Russian beauty Nadia Penn was frantic when her exhusband kidnapped their baby and refused to release her until Nadia turned over government secrets. Nadia would do anything to get her baby back. But did that include releasing information that could endanger the world's population?Bounty hunter Rex Bettencourt was about to take a much-deserved vacation when a desperate Nadia begged him for help. The vulnerable mother was impossible to refuse–or resist. Now, in a race against time, Rex was determined to bring baby Lily home. But once the case was over, could Rex walk away from the tiny family who'd burrowed their way into his soul?









“I’m so scared, Rex. What if he hurts my baby?”


“I’ll tear him apart.” Brave words.

But it was what Nadia needed to hear. She reached up and touched his face. “Thank you.”

He moved into her light caress, craving her touch. And before he knew what was happening, their lips met. Fueled by tension and pent-up feelings, the kiss was not gentle, but Rex didn’t think Nadia wanted gentle. She battled as fiercely as he did. Her hands touched him everywhere, while his got caught in that wonderful cloud of hair.

Rex didn’t know how the kiss had started, or how he’d let it get so out of hand. With Nadia invading his senses, every sane thought flew from his brain. The only thing he did know was that he never wanted it to end.

But it had to end. “Nadia…” he murmured against her mouth.

“Please don’t let go of me. If you stop touching me, the fear will crush me.”


Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

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Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue




Bounty Hunter Honor

Kara Lennox







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Texas native Kara Lennox has been an art director, typesetter, textbook editor and reporter. She’s worked in a boutique, a health club and an ad agency. She’s been an antiques dealer and even a blackjack dealer. But no work has made her happier than writing romance novels.

When not writing, Kara indulges in an ever-changing array of weird hobbies. (Her latest passions are treasure hunting and creating mosaics.) She loves to hear from readers. You can visit her Web site and drop her a note at www.karalennox.com.




CAST OF CHARACTERS


Rex Bettencourt—One of the country’s top bounty hunters. But the ex-marine sniper has a terrible secret he’s never confessed to anyone—a secret that could potentially get someone killed.

Nadia Penn—Granddaughter of a KGB defector, research scientist and inventor of the Petro-Nano, an exciting technology that could solve the world’s energy problems—or cause instantaneous global meltdown.

Lily Penn—Nadia’s two-year-old daughter, kidnapped from her stroller right under Nadia’s nose.

Peter Danilov—Nadia’s Russian ex-husband. Handsome, charismatic and very dangerous. He has Lily, and there is only one way Nadia can get her back—turn over the Petro-Nano.

Denise Petrovski, alias “Rat Face”—Peter’s Russian girlfriend. She is blindly loyal to her mother country and crazily in love with Peter. But could she harm an innocent child?

Detective Lyle Palmer—A cop whose incompetence is exceeded only by his ambition—and his resentment of the First Strike Agency bounty hunters.

Detective Craig Cartwright—The only cop any of the bounty hunters trust.

Lori Bettencourt—Rex’s sister and fellow bounty hunter, more clever and capable than anyone gives her credit for.




Contents


Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen




Prologue


Something was wrong. The certainty started as a prickling of unease at the back of Nadia’s neck. But it grew until it twisted in her gut. She glanced first over one shoulder, then the other. Nothing. Nobody.

Then she looked down at the stroller, where her two-year-old daughter had been sleeping soundly while Nadia shopped for baby clothes.

The stroller was empty.

At first, she tamped down her panic and tried to find some logical explanation for Lily’s absence. Had another shopper at the mall found the baby irresistible and picked her up for a quick cuddle? Had Lily, getting more clever with her hands by the day, unfastened her safety strap and crawled out of the stroller herself?

But a quick scan in all directions at the baby store produced no sign of Lily. Around Nadia, other women calmly sifted through tiny, pastel-hued dresses and booties, chatting among themselves. No one sensed the terrible rent in the fabric of Nadia’s reality. But her baby was gone, vanished like a mist.

Abandoning the stroller, Nadia ran out into the mall, looking frantically for her child. Nothing. Everything looked deceptively calm, sickeningly normal. No sinister persons were hurrying off with Lily in their arms.

The panic she’d kept at bay rose again in her chest, in her throat, a scream of horror threatening. No, she told herself sternly, she would not panic. Panic would not make Lily reappear. She would tell a store employee, who would make an announcement and contact security.

A gloved hand around her arm stopped her as she was about to carry out her plan. She turned to find a blond woman with sharp, rodentlike features gazing malevolently at her. The woman was well turned out, in slim black pants and a fitted silk blouse, her hair expertly cut and highlighted, but nothing could have made her pretty given the sneer on her face.

“Not a sound,” she said softly, her voice carrying the trace of cigarettes and a Russian accent. “If you ever want to see your daughter again, you won’t raise an alarm, you won’t call the police, you won’t tell anyone. Do you understand?”

Frozen inside, all Nadia could do was nod. “Is this Peter’s doing?” But she already knew. After her divorce, she’d spent months watching her rearview mirror, screening phone calls, checking the locks on windows and doors. All that time, there’d been no word from her ex-husband. Just within the past couple of weeks, she’d finally begun to feel safe.

She’d been a fool.

The blond woman didn’t answer her question. Instead she handed Nadia a folded piece of paper. “The nonnegotiable terms for Lily’s safe return are here. Follow them to the letter and your daughter will not be harmed.”

Nadia accepted the paper, her hands numb, her whole body turned to cold lead. This wasn’t happening. This could not be happening. She should grab this woman, scream for help. But even as the woman strode confidently away, out of the store and into the mall where she quickly blended in with the crowd, Nadia remained mute, fears for her daughter’s safety paralyzing her.

She opened the folded paper, though she was already pretty sure what the terms would be. She had access to something Peter wanted very badly, and it wasn’t his daughter.




Chapter One


A fugitive with millions of dollars and a group of loyal and capable bodyguards wasn’t the easiest criminal to catch. But the price on Jethro Banner’s head—fifty thousand dollars—was enough to make more than one bounty hunter try.

Most quickly abandoned the quest. But Rex Bettencourt was not the type to give up easily. As a sniper for the Marines’ Maritime Special Purpose Force, he’d learned all he needed to know about patience. He’d once lain on his belly covered with camouflage for two days without food or water, sweating in the intense, steamy heat, letting fist-size bugs crawl over his body without a twitch as he waited for a target to emerge from his secret bunker. Compared to that terrorist warlord, Jethro Banner was a cakewalk.

Sheer doggedness and some hefty bribes in the right circles had yielded Jethro’s location, in a heavily fortified mansion near San Antonio, Texas. A week of surveillance, waiting for an opportunity to take down Jethro when he was alone and vulnerable, was about to pay off. The freelance bomber had broken his molar on a macadamia nut—according to the pool boy on Rex’s payroll—necessitating an emergency trip to the dentist.

Jethro’s bodyguards could not possibly make the dentist’s office totally secure on short notice.

What was even better, Rex had gotten to Jethro’s dentist and persuaded him to inject his patient with a mild tranquilizer, ensuring he would be easy to apprehend.

By the time the fugitive arrived, whining like a six-year-old about the pain, Rex was already waiting in the exam room next door to Jethro’s, wearing a mask and scrubs in case anyone checked. Jethro didn’t question the hypodermic the dentist shot into his mouth—he cared only for his comfort. Within a couple of minutes he was feeling no pain and had a dopey grin on his face, every muscle in his body relaxed.

Rex slipped into the room with Jethro. “I’ll take it from here,” he whispered to the dentist, who nodded. He and his receptionist—the only employee who hadn’t already evacuated—left through the back door.

“Open your mouth, please,” Rex said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. Jethro did as asked, utterly compliant. Rex stuffed cotton into the fugitive’s mouth—enough to muffle his cries of panic when he realized what was going on. His bodyguards were only a few feet away, in the waiting room.

When Jethro resembled a hamster with its cheeks packed with seeds, Rex lifted the armrest on the dentist’s chair and in one swift move pushed the man forward and bent his right arm behind him. “Make a sound and I’ll tear out your shoulder,” Rex said calmly as he captured Jethro’s other arm and cuffed him. There was no resistance and not a peep from the formerly formidable fugitive. Man, whatever the dentist had given him, it had worked.

Rex hauled Jethro to his feet. The man stood precariously for a moment, then toppled like a child’s pile of blocks. Rex caught him before he could hit the floor. “Jethro?”

Easing him down, Rex pulled some of the cotton out of Jethro’s mouth, not wanting to suffocate an unconscious man. Jethro smiled. “Where we goin’, Mama?”

“We’re goin’ for a ride,” Rex answered in a falsetto. “Then some nice FBI agents are going to put you in prison, where you’ll get to be the girlfriend of some guy named Bubba.”

“Okay.”

Rex saw no way around it—he would have to carry the bulky Jethro Banner out of the dentist’s office. The fugitive wasn’t going anywhere under his own steam. He only hoped Lori had brought the Blazer around to the back door as he’d told her to do. His little sister was smart and tough—for a girl—but she was green as a mountain meadow when it came to bounty hunting. He’d only brought her along on this job because at least he could keep an eye on her when she was working with him.

With a sigh he heaved Jethro—who was not a small man—over his shoulder and headed for the storage room, which had a door leading directly to the parking lot.

When he opened the door to the storage room, he stopped cold. Two muscle-bound gorillas stood waiting for him; one of them held a .44 pointed at Rex’s head.

“Going somewhere?” the gorilla with the gun asked.

Hell. Jethro’s bodyguards must have gotten tipped off somehow. Rex dumped Jethro onto the carpet. He could have ducked back into the hallway and drawn his Glock from the holster at the small of his back… His gut twisted at the prospect. He was pretty sure the bodyguard wouldn’t shoot him, he reasoned. A messy murder would only draw unwanted attention to him and his boss, and his prime directive would be to protect Jethro.

“Get Mr. Banner,” the gunman instructed his friend. Gorilla No. 2 stepped over to his inert boss and tried to coax him to his feet, but it was no use. Jethro was barely conscious.

“I can’t carry him by myself,” the bodyguard whined.

“Drag him, then,” the gunman said sharply. “Unless you want to go back to prison.”

This seemed to motivate the second man. He grasped Jethro under the arms and dragged him toward the door. The gunman, his weapon still trained on Rex, opened the door. He’d only gotten it open a couple of inches when it slammed the rest of the way with the force of a cannon shot. In an instinctive move, Rex dived for the floor.

The door hit the gunman square in the face. Lori burst in, deflected his weapon, then did something so fast with her hands that they blurred. The gunman’s weapon flew through the air and landed on a pile of cardboard boxes.

Before the gunman even knew what hit him, Lori had swept one of his feet out from under him. He fell face-down on the floor.

Rex didn’t waste too much time watching his sister in action. He went for Gorilla No. 2, who was so shocked by Lori’s entrance that he didn’t even make a move for his own weapon. Rex came at him full speed, knocking him in the chin with the heel of his hand and snapping his head back. The bodyguard dropped Jethro—who didn’t seem to mind—and stumbled back against a set of shelves. A small box that apparently contained something heavy fell on the goon’s head, stunning him further. Then it was a simple matter for Rex to drag him to the ground and secure his wrists behind him. Thank God he’d thought to bring some zip ties, just in case.

He turned to help Lori but found she already had the first bodyguard neatly hog-tied.

“You were supposed to stay in the car,” Rex growled.

“You’re welcome,” she said sweetly. “Think these other two are wanted for anything? If so, this one’s mine.” She nudged her takedown with her foot.



BACK IN PAYTON, TEXAS, Rex sat behind his desk at the First Strike Agency, plowing through neglected paperwork like an Uzi through balsa wood. He hated paperwork, but it was a necessary evil. He sustained himself through the tedium by picturing himself on a beach in Tahiti, sipping a mai tai, a bikini-clad woman smoothing suntan lotion on his shoulders as he listened to the soothing sound of the surf.

He’d already made the reservations. As soon as he finished here, he was heading to the airport for a long, long overdue vacation. With the reward money from recovering Jethro Banner, he could afford to do it up first-class.

He became so engrossed in one particular mental picture that he closed his eyes to more fully enjoy it. It was only when he opened his eyes again that he realized he was no longer alone in the office. A petite brunette stood in front of his desk, an expectant look on her pixie face.

Images of the bikini woman vanished as reality intruded—although he had to say, in this case, it wasn’t a bad trade-off. The woman staring at him with beseeching dark eyes was small and slender, with a mop of dark curls cascading in defiant disarray around her head and shoulders. Her huge green eyes, topped with dramatically straight, dark brows, were her best feature, but her straight nose and full, pink lips all contributed to a face that was an odd mixture of boldness, intelligence and an undeniable frailty.

She’d probably look okay in a bikini, too.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t miss the terror that lay just beneath the surface of her demeanor, which could mean one of two things, or possibly both: abusive husband-boyfriend, or missing child.

He was not in any shape to take on either of those types of cases right now. One, they didn’t pay enough. Two, in about five minutes he was officially on vacation.

But, damn it, he was the only one at the First Strike office. Everybody else was out working cases, even Lori.

“I’m looking for Rex Bettencourt,” she said, her voice soft, sure, but not without a tiny tremor.

It figured she’d be looking for him. He considered denying all knowledge of any Rex Bettencourt, but he couldn’t turn his back on a woman in trouble. Never had been able to. “That would be me.”

“I read about you in that magazine. They say you’re the best.”

“I am the best,” he confirmed, not out of any need for an ego trip, but because it was true. In the four years since he’d come to work for First Strike, the agency co-founded by his father and his father’s army buddy, Ace McCullough, he’d amassed more reward money than any other bounty hunter in the country. Mostly he managed to do it working in conjunction with law enforcement, so police and federal agents not only welcomed him, but sought him out on tough cases. His success sometimes afforded him unwanted publicity.

“My daughter has been taken.”

Score one for Rex’s instincts. “By her father?”

The woman nodded.

“Why don’t you let me refer you to one of my—”

“No. I want you. You’re the best.”

“The best doesn’t come cheap,” Rex said. Though the First Strike office was his home base, Rex was an independent contractor. Ace, sole owner of First Strike since the death of Rex’s father almost two years ago, let all the bounty hunters charge what they wanted and pursue the cases that interested them, paying a small percentage to the agency in return for an office and administrative support. So long as each brought in a certain minimum—and Rex always far exceeded the minimum—they could handle the job any way they chose.

“I’m prepared to pay whatever it takes,” the woman said.

“I charge five hundred dollars a day plus expenses.” He figured that would scare her off.

She didn’t even blink. “It’s not a problem. Just get my daughter back.”

Rex sighed. He couldn’t say no. The case sounded routine enough. Maybe he could wrap it up in a day or two. He got up, dragged over a chair from a neighboring desk and situated it next to his, rather than on the other side of the desk. He didn’t want any barriers, physical or emotional, between him and his potential client. If he took on her case, they would have to trust each other completely. He refused to work any other way.

She sat down, clutching her brown leather purse in her lap so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Rex picked up a pen and a legal pad. “Your name?”

“Nadia Penn.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Nadia. After I hear your story, I’ll decide whether I can help you. Do you have legal custody of the child?”

“Yes.”

“And the child’s father?”

“My ex-husband. He gave up all parental rights when we divorced six months ago.”

That admission gave Rex pause. What kind of man gave up all rights to his children?

“He was abusive,” she said without hesitating a beat. “He sent me to the hospital with a broken jaw. No court was going to give him custody, and he didn’t want to pay me child support.”

The thought of any man using his fists on such a delicate, defenseless creature made Rex’s gut churn. It was that sliver of compassion he felt for the fairer sex that had ruined him, ended his military career.

“Legal rights aside, has he had contact with his daughter prior to this?” Rex asked. “Have you allowed him to visit?”

“Peter Danilov has no personal interest in Lily. He cares nothing about her. He took her to blackmail me. I have access to something he wants very badly, and he intends to barter for it with my child’s life.”

Good Lord. So much for the simple, straightforward case he’d envisioned. “So, whatever it is, give it to him. Nothing is worth a child’s life.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

He sighed. “This sounds like a matter for the police.”

“Do you know how many children are kidnapped by noncustodial parents? And do you know how little the police care? Anyway, I couldn’t risk it.” Nadia opened her purse and pulled out a plain white sheet of paper, folded. She handed it to him.

He took the paper gingerly by one corner. Ah, hell, why bother? She’d probably already destroyed any potential forensic evidence.

“You can touch it,” she said. “It’s already been analyzed. No prints but mine. Common photocopy paper, Canon Inkjet ink. Nontraceable.”

“I thought you didn’t go to the police.”

“I didn’t. I work in a research lab. I did the analysis myself.”

“Ah.” He tried not to show his surprise. He wouldn’t have pegged this delicate, fairylike creature as a hard-nosed scientist, though he ought to know by now not to let anyone’s outward appearance surprise him. His last stint in Korea should have burned that message into his brain once and for all.

He read the note, which set forth the terms she would have to meet if she wanted to see her daughter alive again. She would be required to deliver a package to a certain place at a certain time, then leave. The package would be picked up, the contents verified. Only then would the child be released at an undisclosed location. She would be notified after the fact.

If she agreed to these terms, she was to go today at 3:00 p.m. to the Forest Ridge Mall food court wearing a red shirt and wait at least fifteen minutes, after which she would be contacted as to where and when to make the drop.

Peter Danilov obviously liked cloak-and-dagger games. Such an affinity for drama could be used against him.

Rex asked Nadia the obvious. “What does Peter want from you?” The note simply referred to a “package,” which Rex assumed meant Nadia knew what it was.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“And I can’t win this game playing with only half a deck.”

“I can’t tell you without breaching the security of the United States,” she said quietly. “But suffice it to say, it’s something very dangerous. I could never put it into Peter’s hands. Which is why I need you to get my baby back.”

National security? Dangerous?

“Whoa, wait a minute. You don’t by any chance work for—”

“JanCo Labs.”

Ah, hell. JanCo Labs was a huge facility tucked away in the piney woods of East Texas a few miles from Payton. The lab worked almost exclusively on top secret government contracts—everything from gene splicing to weapons technology.

Rex was intrigued despite himself.

“Do you have any way to contact Peter?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea where he might have taken your daughter?”

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve had no contact with him for months.”

“Do you believe he will actually harm Lily?”

She hesitated. “He never physically hurt her before. But I do know one thing. If he suspects even for a moment that I’ve come to you or anyone for help, he will spirit Lily off to Russia with him, and I will never see her again.”



NADIA ENDURED the next hour of tedious questions solely because she knew Rex Bettencourt was her only hope.

She hadn’t been too sure when she’d first walked up to the First Strike Agency. She’d read of his impressive success rate in a national magazine and had considered it an extremely lucky break that the bounty hunter was based in her own backyard. But when she’d seen his place of business, with its faded, tattered awning and grimy windows, she’d been less than impressed. First Strike was in a bad area of town to begin with, sandwiched between a bail bondsman and a pawnshop. But even if the neighborhood hadn’t discouraged her, the office itself would have.

Narrow and deep, the office housed a half-dozen mismatched desks scattered haphazardly around the room. There didn’t seem to be a reception desk, or anything to welcome a walk-in customer. In the back corner was a home gym setup and some free weights.

As she tiptoed across the ripped indoor-outdoor carpeting toward the only occupied desk, she’d taken in the gallery of Wanted posters with darts protruding from the faces and the stacks of magazines—Soldier of Fortune, Guns & Ammo, Fast Car—decorating the desks.

The only computer in the room was a big, beige clunker grimy with fingerprints.

But then she’d seen Rex. Although his face had not appeared in the magazine article she’d read, she’d somehow known instantly that the man seated behind a desk at the back of the room was Rex Bettencourt. With military-short, sun-bleached hair and a deep tan even in the dead of winter, his posture had communicated the sort of supreme confidence she was looking for. And from the moment he’d opened his mouth to speak, she’d known he was the man who could get her little girl back safe and sound. His impressive muscles made him look dangerous, but the intelligence behind his green eyes assured her he was also capable.

“You haven’t given me much to work with,” Rex said when he’d run out of questions. “A description of a woman who smokes with a rodent face and an accent isn’t much help. Are you sure you’ve never seen this woman before?”

“I know I’ve never met her. But now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, to go over it in my mind, she seems familiar somehow. I may have seen her before—at a party, in a crowd.”

“She might have been following you.”

Nadia shivered at the idea of being watched. Her Russian grandmother had risked her life to come to this country, where she could be free, where her movements were not constantly monitored or her motives challenged. Nadia had been raised to appreciate her freedom, her relative safety.

Peter had taken that away from her.

“I know I haven’t given you much,” Nadia said. “But someone will be at the mall to spot me. Maybe it will be the woman again. You could follow her.”

“If you spot her. Or if he doesn’t send someone else, someone you wouldn’t recognize.”

“When he contacts me again, then,” Nadia said.

“Peter probably won’t send another messenger with a piece of paper. He’ll try something different this time, maybe a phone call from a throwaway cell phone.”

“He’s bound to drop some kind of clue,” Nadia said. “And if he doesn’t, you can follow whoever picks up the package after I make the drop.”

“If you aren’t planning to give Peter what he wants, what will you put in the package?”

“Something that will look real enough that it will fool him for at least a while. He’ll have the contents verified, but it will take some time. We have to find her before he discovers the truth.”

“We’ll do the best we can.”

She searched his eyes, hoping to find reassurance there. But his expression was grim. “You’re thinking he might have already hurt her.”

“We have to consider all possibilities.”

Nadia’s eyes swam with tears. She did not want to hear this, yet she knew Rex spoke the truth. Peter was not honorable. He was a spy, a traitor to a country that had given him a chance, offered him sanctuary, embraced him as one of its own. He had no reason to keep Lily alive or deliver her unharmed, even if she gave him the Petro-Nano.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” Rex said. “I’m just making sure you understand the terrible position we’re in. He has all the cards. We have to find a way to upset the balance of power. And the first thing, I think, is to force him to open two-way communications.”

“But I have no way of forcing him to do anything,” Nadia said, calming down. Rex’s commanding presence was almost comforting, despite the fact he was big and powerful and a little bit scary. Her experience with Peter had taught her just how much pain a man could inflict on a small woman like her. And Rex was taller, larger, undoubtedly stronger than Peter.

“We will find a way.”

“Does that mean you’re taking me on as a client?”

He looked slightly bemused. “I’m sure talking like that’s the case.”




Chapter Two


It wasn’t the fanciest of plans, Nadia thought as she sat in the food court at Forest Ridge Mall, but Peter had left them few options. Nadia was frankly terrified of what would happen when Peter discovered she wasn’t playing by his rules. But she’d put her fate in Rex Bettencourt’s hands, and she’d agreed to let him make the decisions.

That didn’t mean she was comfortable with the plan.

She had arrived at the time Peter had specified, wearing a red windbreaker over a red T-shirt. But she carried a small, hand-lettered sign that read, Must See Lily or No Deal. She had some leverage—she had something Peter wanted. The sooner she exerted her power, Rex had said, the better. And she should use that power to ensure her daughter was alive and well, which was their number-one priority.

Nadia tried not to look at Rex, who’d arrived at the food court a full hour ahead of her. He sat a few tables away, sipping a soft drink and talking to Gavin Schuyler, another bounty hunter. Rex had pulled a team together with amazing speed, and each of the other team members accepted their roles without question. Rex and Gavin would keep their eyes open for anything unusual. Peter, or one of his agents, had to be nearby to visually verify Nadia’s presence.

Out in the parking lot, Beau Maddox was watching Nadia’s Volvo. It had occurred to Rex that Peter, wanting to avoid phone calls or personal contact, might leave a communiqué on or near her car while she was safely inside the mall.

Back at the office, Lori, Rex’s sister, was running through every possible avenue of computer research to locate Peter. She was also monitoring Nadia’s cell phone. Nadia had privately wondered about Lori’s qualifications, but Rex had assured her that in addition to being a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, Lori was a skilled hacker. If anyone could trace a call or turn up an e-trail for their suspect, Lori could.

Now they had to wait, and hope that Peter made a slip.

When Nadia’s cell phone rang, she nearly upset her untouched soft drink. She fumbled with the phone, glancing to see whether Rex had noticed. He had. Though his gaze was never directly on her for more than half a second, she knew he was watching her.

“Hello?”

“You are in no position to make demands, sweetheart.”

Inwardly shaking, Nadia gave a casual hand signal, indicating to Rex that she had Peter on the line. The call was being recorded via a device hidden inside her jacket.

“Oh, yes, I am,” Nadia said. Everything inside her yearned to beg and grovel for Peter to return her child. But Rex had told her specifically not to do that. She had to pretend she was in perfect control. “I will give you what you want. But not without complete assurance that I will get Lily back safe and sound. Let me talk with her.”

“You can talk with her after you—”

“No,” she said sharply. “Once you deliver proof that Lily is safe, I will listen to your next demand. Not before.” Then, though it was the hardest thing she’d ever done, she hung up. She knew she had to prove to Peter she was serious.

A few feet away, Rex was shocked that their power play had produced results so quickly. Peter Danilov must be desperate for whatever Nadia had. He might even be here at the mall himself.

The Forest Ridge Mall had three levels. The food court was on the bottom; the other two levels looked down upon it. Rex had guessed that Peter had chosen this location so he or a coconspirator could observe from a high perch. Rex scanned the people near the railings above him.

“There,” said Gavin, pointing with his eyes. “Two o’clock to you. A blond guy in a black shirt, talking on a cell phone. His body language says he’s angry.”

Rex saw him. He could have been Peter Danilov, but Nadia had only been able to provide a grainy, outdated photo of her ex-husband. He had apparently taken all photos with him when they’d divorced, anticipating something like this. Lori was currently tracking down other photos—his employee ID picture, from when he’d worked at JanCo as a low-level lab tech, or his mug shot from when he’d been arrested for assaulting Nadia. But they hadn’t arrived yet.

“Let’s go,” Rex said. Their plan was to follow a suspect, if they found one, which was one of the reasons Rex had brought Gavin with him. Two people could tail someone easier than one could, and with less chance of being spotted.

He didn’t like leaving Nadia unprotected, but she’d been instructed to remain exactly where she was until she received a prearranged signal from him or someone on the team to return to her car.

As Rex and Gavin rode the escalator up to the second level where their suspect was, Rex spoke into his walkie-talkie headset, which resembled a cell phone accessory. “Beau, you copy?”

“I’m here.”

“Any action around the car?”

“Nope.”

Rex tamped down his irritation at Beau’s less-than-military lingo on the walkie-talkie. Beau was an ex-cop, the emphasis being on ex. He didn’t care for anything that smacked of rules and regulations, including radio codes. But no one could argue with Beau’s results. He got the job done, and Rex couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have at his back.

“We’ve made a visual ID of a suspect. I’ll need your help tailing him once he exits the mall. Blond guy in a black T-shirt, about six feet, one-eighty pounds—”

“Hold on,” Gavin interrupted.

As they reached the second level, their suspect turned around and smiled as a redheaded girl about ten years old approached him. They hugged, and Rex could see the relief evident in his face. “I told you to wait for me at the bookstore,” he scolded. “You scared me to death.”

Gavin and Rex looked at each other. No wonder the man had been agitated on the phone—he’d lost his daughter. They could also both see, now that they’d gotten a good look at the man, that he was closer to fifty than forty—way too old to be Peter.

“Hell,” Rex muttered. He spoke into the walkie-talkie again. “Cancel the previous. Wrong guy.”

Rex headed for the down escalator, which descended through a forest of carefully sculpted trees still sporting their Christmas lights, though it was January. He peered through the trees, searching for Nadia’s red jacket, feeling inexplicably anxious about having left her vulnerable, even for a couple of minutes.

Moments later, he realized his anxiety was perfectly well placed. Nadia was gone.

“Where’d she go?” Gavin asked, sounding as bewildered as Rex felt.

“Damn it!” He scanned the crowd for any sign of a red shirt and a curly mop of black hair.

“Maybe she went to the bathroom,” Gavin said uncertainly.

“She wouldn’t. I made myself pretty clear, didn’t I? That she wasn’t to move from that table? If she did, she must have had a good reason.”

“You hardly know her,” Gavin argued. “For her, maybe a call of nature is a good reason.”

But Rex felt he did know her. Technically they’d met only four hours ago. But he’d seen that haunted look in the eyes of other women, other mothers who feared they would never see their children again. He might not know exactly how Nadia felt, but he understood how a woman in her situation thought. And she wouldn’t take an unnecessary risk.

Had she been lured here for a kidnapping? But if that had been her ex-husband’s goal, why stage it here in a crowd? Why not a more remote location?

“Hey, is that her?” Gavin asked, pointing to a speck of red far down the mall concourse.

Rex pulled a tiny pair of binoculars from his jacket and peered toward the retreating woman who walked side by side with a dark-haired man. He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell by her walk that it was Nadia. As a sniper, he’d learned to identify people from a distance. Now it was second nature to catalog the way people walked, how they moved their hands when they talked, how they cocked their heads, how their hips swayed with— He pulled his mind back to the present.

“It’s her,” he confirmed. “Let’s move.”

They hurried down the concourse, breaking into a sprint as Nadia and her companion neared the entrance of a department store. The shoppers they breezed past gave them strange stares.

“Beau, you read?” Rex said into the walkie-talkie.

“Ten-four, good buddy.”

“Change of plans. Nadia is heading into JCPenney with an unknown person. Male, six feet, one-seventy, dark hair.”

“Dark hair?”

“Be ready to take over pursuit if they exit the store. Under no circumstances are you to allow Nadia to enter this guy’s vehicle.”



“IS SHE EATING?” Nadia asked, hurrying to keep up with Peter as he strode toward JCPenney. Her heart pounded and her skin was awash in goose bumps, and she had to resist the urge to look behind her to see if Rex was following.

She had disobeyed one of Rex’s direct orders. She wasn’t supposed to have moved from her table at the food court until he gave her the signal. But Rex and Gavin had both disappeared, and then there was Peter, his blond hair dyed brown, whispering in her ear the most seductive of songs: “You win. Come with me, and I’ll let you see Lily.”

She hadn’t seen him coming. Peter always did have the ability to move quickly and silently, like a cat. When he’d told her that her baby was close by, her body had moved almost of its own accord, her mother’s instincts craving contact with her offspring.

Her Nana Tania had always emphasized the need for flexibility when it came to matters of intrigue. Peter suddenly appearing in person was an unforeseen event, she reasoned. Rex would approve of her impromptu response, she was almost sure. This might be their best chance of recovering Lily. Rex would follow, and he would have help from Beau and Gavin.

Provided Rex had seen her leave with Peter. Oh, God, what if he hadn’t? She wasn’t in danger, though, really, was she? In this public place, what could he do? He hadn’t pulled a gun, hadn’t shown her any sign of force at all. He’d merely told her that his girlfriend was with Lily in another part of the mall, and this would be Nadia’s one and only chance to see her daughter until after the Petro-Nano was delivered.

Peter set a zigzagging course through the department store, pausing often to see if anyone was following.

“I’m here alone,” Nadia said, certain Rex wouldn’t reveal his presence.

“You double-crossed me once,” Peter said. “You’d do it again in a heartbeat if you thought you could get away with it.” He paused long enough to look her in the eye in a way that made her shrivel inside. For a moment, all she could think about was the feel of his fist making contact with her face, the sickening thud-crunch, the explosion of pain and the keening scream that had sounded strange and alien, but which had come from her own throat. And she knew he would make her suffer for not meekly following his orders. If he knew she’d gotten help, if he knew she’d lied to him, his retribution would be that much worse.

Even if he had to exact it from a prison cell.

She shivered.

“All right. Come on. Lily is in my car with Denise.”

Nadia hadn’t counted on Peter taking her outside. She was afraid of what he might do in the relative isolation of the parking lot. But surely Rex and his buddies were watching.

As they exited the store into a cold, gray day, Nadia zipped up her inadequate windbreaker. The parking lot wasn’t all that isolated, she realized with some relief. It was a busy Saturday afternoon. People were coming and going.

Then she noticed a blond woman heading toward her, and she tensed. Lori, Rex’s sister. They’d left her back at the First Strike office doing computer searches. What was she doing here?

Lori was going to pass very close to them. But there was no reason to worry, Nadia thought. Peter wouldn’t recognize her.

“Nadia?”

Lori had stopped squarely in front of them. Panicking, Nadia looked blankly at Lori. Was she going to just give away the game right here in front of Peter? Or, she thought giddily, had the team already recovered Lily?

“Nadia Penn, it is you, right? It’s Annette, from Michigan?”

“Annette!” Nadia said, hoping she had inherited at least a smidgen of acting ability from Nana Tania. “I haven’t seen you in a million years! You look different. Have you lost weight?”

“Only about fifty pounds.” Lori came in for a hug and whispered in Nadia’s ear, “We’re getting you out of this.” After releasing Nadia from the hug she said, bright and cheerful as could be, “Is this your husband? I thought I heard you were getting married.”

“That must have been a while ago,” Nadia said. “Peter and I are divorced. But we, uh, have a daughter. That’s why we’re, uh…” She was blathering. She had to get control of this thing. Peter, who’d looked merely annoyed by the interruption a moment ago, was starting to frown and turn red.

“Come on, Nad, I do not have all day,” he said. “You can gossip with your girlfriend another time. Denise and Lily are waiting for us in the car.”

“Oh, that Russian accent is so cute,” Lori simpered. “You sound just like Boris Badenov from the Bullwinkle cartoon.”

What in the hell was Lori doing? Nadia wondered wildly. Stalling, maybe, so the team could get into place? She was also making Peter angry. What if he took it out on Lily, or the hapless Denise, whoever she was?

“We really have to go,” Nadia said with as much conviction as she could muster. How far were they from Peter’s car? she wondered. How close was Lily?

“I’ll walk with you,” Lori said, sounding ridiculously perky. “I’d love to see your daughter.”

Peter turned on Lori, his temper erupting. “Why don’t you mind your own business, you stupid cow? This is a private matter.”

“Hey, nice manners.” Lori’s chin jutted out, challenging Peter. “God, Nadia, no wonder you divorced him.”

Without warning, Peter took a swing at Lori and Nadia reflexively screamed. But Lori blocked the blow with amazing agility, Peter’s fist glancing harmlessly off her forearm. Realizing he’d tangled with more than he bargained for, Peter took off running.

Lori started to follow, but Nadia grabbed onto her arm. “No,” she said insistently. “If you chase him, he’ll know you’re not just an old friend.” Nadia watched in despair as her chance to see Lily vanished with Peter as he dodged in and out of the rows of cars.

Lori nodded, seeing the wisdom of Nadia’s logic. “Beau’s out here, too. He’s in his car. He’ll be able to follow Peter.” Even as the words left her mouth, a black Mustang sped past them.

“Peter will know he’s being tailed,” Nadia said.

“Not if we double-team him. Come on, my car’s over here.”

Certain Peter was focused on escape and no longer paying attention to them, Nadia sprinted beside Lori’s long-legged lope. “Why did you do that?” she demanded. “Why did you confront me? He was taking me to see Lily.”

“It was too dangerous, letting Peter take you to his car. Strict orders from Rex not to let you go with him.”

The burning in Nadia’s lungs was the only thing that prevented her from dissolving into tears. She wouldn’t be able to breathe if she started crying, and she had to keep up with Lori. Lori was going to chase Peter, and Nadia couldn’t slow her down.

When they reached Lori’s vehicle, an ancient gray van with mirrored windows, Nadia had her doubts that this old bucket of bolts could catch anything, but she climbed into the passenger seat.

Her doubts about the van melted when Lori started her up. Sounded like she had a souped-up V-8 under the hood. “Batjushki,” she murmured, borrowing one of Nana Tania’s favorite curses. She quickly fastened her seat belt as Lori whipped out of her parking space with a roar and a screech of tires, driving the behemoth as if it were a sports car.

Lori grabbed the CB radio, driving with one hand. “Beau, this is Lori, you read?”

“Ten-four, Blondie. You got Blue Dog here, runnin’ and—”

“Shut up with that stuff. What’s your twenty? Over.”

Beau sounded more serious when he answered. “Heading south on the service road. The target just crossed Augustine Road. Over.”

“What’s he driving? Over.”

“Green Plymouth Reliant, older model. No license plates. You can’t miss it. Over.”

Nadia grabbed the mike out of Lori’s hand. “Beau?”

“Push the button, hon,” Lori said.

Right. “Beau?” she repeated. “This is Nadia. Can you see who’s in the car with him? Um, over.”

There was a pause before he answered. “There’s no one else in the car, just Peter. I got a good look when he almost bashed into me. We’ve hit some traffic now. He’s about five car lengths ahead of me.”

The mike dropped out of Nadia’s hand. There was no one in the car. Lily wasn’t with Peter at all. He’d lied. The implications made her sick to her stomach. Peter had had something else in mind when he’d lured Nadia out here, something other than allowing her to see her daughter. If Lori hadn’t intervened, she would be in Peter’s car right now, under his complete control.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Nadia said.

“Roll down the window, then, ’cause I’m not stopping.” To prove her point, Lori ran the next light, which was Augustine Road. “Look, I think that’s Beau’s Mustang up ahead. But this damn traffic! Maybe I can turn left under the freeway and find an alternate route.” She veered to the left lane, but it was no use. The traffic had come to a standstill.

Beau cursed over the radio. “He’s going over the median and into the U-turn lane. I’m boxed in, I can’t follow.”

“Neither can I,” Lori moaned. “Rex, are you there? Gavin?”

There was a loud burst of static. Then, “Where the hell are you? What happened? Where’s Nadia?” The angry voice was undeniably Rex’s, and Nadia wanted to dissolve into the van’s tattered upholstery.

“I’ve got Nadia,” Lori said. “She’s safe. Beau has the suspect’s car in his sight. Over.”

“Correction,” Beau interjected. “I had the car in my sight. It’s gone now.”

Rex let loose with a string of curses over the radio. Nadia was sure the FCC would yank his license if they caught him. “We’ll debrief back at the office,” he concluded. “Now.”

Nadia’s whole body burned with shame a few minutes later as she pulled her Volvo into a parking spot next to Lori’s in front of the First Strike offices. When she entered, she saw that Beau, Gavin and Rex were already there, along with a man she didn’t recognize. He was a robust-looking guy in his fifties with a tan and very short, silver hair. All the men were discussing something in hushed voices. They went silent when Nadia joined them, and she imagined they all stared at her with accusing eyes.

Rex opened his mouth, but Nadia beat him to it. “I know, I screwed up.”

“Monumentally.” His face was hard as quartz crystal, his jaw working. She could tell he was forcing himself not to explode. “When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.”

Lori put her hand on Nadia’s arm. “Oh, Rex, shut up. This isn’t the Marines. Peter said he was going to let her see her baby out in the parking lot.”

“I th-thought you would see what was happening,” Nadia added, feeling her excuse was a poor one. He was right to be angry with her—she shouldn’t have gone against the plan they’d laid out.

The older man pulled out a chair for her. “I’m Ace McCullough. You want some coffee? You look a little shaken up.”

“Some water. I can get it.” She started to rise, but Lori pushed her back down in the chair.

“Just sit for a few minutes. I’ll get your water.” She shot an accusing look at her brother as she passed where he sat, perched on the edge of a desk.

Rex took a deep breath, his muscular chest expanding beneath his black T-shirt. Nadia slid out of her windbreaker in deference to the office’s overactive heater.

“Okay,” Rex said in a calmer voice. “Does Peter know Nadia went to someone for help?”

“I doubt he knew I was following,” Beau said. “I never got close enough.”

For the first time, Nadia noticed a huge black dog lying near Beau’s feet. A Rottweiler, she thought, remembering a story her grandmother had once told her about being chased by a Rottweiler when she was part of the Russian occupation force in Germany. Nadia kept one eye on the enormous dog, and it seemed to be studying her with equal parts curiosity and suspicion.

“I doubt Peter was worried about me,” Lori said as she returned with a glass of water and handed it to Nadia, who murmured her thanks. “I was playing the ditzy college friend. I think I just spooked him because I didn’t cower and whimper when he tried to hit me.”

“He hit you?” Rex sounded alarmed.

Lori shrugged it off. “I said he tried. He may be strong, but he’s a totally unskilled fighter.”

“He’s a bully and a coward,” Nadia interjected. “He wouldn’t have stood up to you if he’d realized you could beat him up.” The thought of a slender, pretty blonde beating the crud out of Peter pleased Nadia. “I wasn’t able to fight back like you can, and that’s what he’s used to.”

“I could teach you—”

“Focus, people,” Rex said. “Lori, were you able to find anything useful on the computer?”

“Absolutely nothing. That’s why I came out to the mall—I thought I could be more use to you there. Peter is hiding behind a pretty thick curtain. I’ve seldom seen anyone disappear as thoroughly as he has, unless they’re dead. He must have support.”

“Russian Mafia,” Nadia murmured.

A collective groan rose up among the bounty hunters. “You didn’t think it was important to mention this before?” Rex asked.

“I don’t know for sure he’s involved, but he must be working for someone,” Nadia said. “Given his political leanings, it would make sense he’s getting funds and support from someone or some group connected to Russia.”

“This is a little…big,” Ace said, “even for you, Rex.”

Nadia could see Rex didn’t like having his manly prowess questioned. But she also sensed he wouldn’t let his ego get in the way of common sense.

“Maybe it’s time to go to the authorities,” Rex said grudgingly.

“Not the local cops,” Gavin said, sounding alarmed. “Can you imagine the muddle Lyle Palmer could make of this case?”

“Who’s Lyle Palmer?” Nadia asked.

Lori answered. “Only the most incompetent detective in the state. He hates us because we’ve shown him up a few times, and his sole goal in life is to find reasons to arrest us.”

“I was thinking we should take it higher,” Rex said. “Given the security level of Nadia’s work and Peter’s history, and the fact he’s obviously not working alone, the FBI or even Homeland Security might be interested.”

Nadia felt panic rising in her throat at the thought of bringing anyone else into the loop. “Peter will go ballistic if he finds out,” she said. “You saw how he reacted today. When he thinks anything is going out of control, he reacts impulsively, and nothing would make him freak out faster than federal authorities. I’m afraid of what he might do to Lily if he gets frightened.”

“I agree,” Gavin said. “He sounds like a complete loose cannon. If we go through proper channels, God knows what kind of federal yahoo might get assigned to Nadia’s case, blundering in like a trumpeting elephant.”

Rex pursed his lips. The others looked thoughtful.

“I could call a couple of friends,” Rex said. “Keep it unofficial. They could make quiet inquiries, see where there’s been any mention in Russian communiqués of the possible acquisition of top-secret technology.”

He looked at Nadia. “I’ll let you make the decision.”

“What’s the alternative?” Nadia asked.

“We keep hammering away on our own,” he said. “We have lots of areas we haven’t explored, lots of ways to track Peter down. He must have friends, relatives, hobbies. He can be traced, and if we’re smart about it and a little bit lucky, we’ll find him and Lily.”

Nadia felt the first stirrings of renewed hope. “He does have interests. I was married to him for three years. I know more about him than almost anyone.”

Rex arched one eyebrow. “Then you’re saying you don’t want to bring in the authorities?”

She took a deep breath. “Not yet. I made a demand—asking to see Lily. I want to give him a chance to comply with that demand. By changing the rules, we’ve got him off balance. If he doesn’t produce proof that Lily is alive, we can assume—” she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as she was reminded of just what was at stake “—we can assume he isn’t able to. Then it won’t matter who we call. CIA, FBI, National Guard. Anybody we can think of. Anyone who’ll shoot to kill.”




Chapter Three


While Rex and Ace went through their lists of U.S. intelligence contacts, and with Nadia’s approval made some very cautious and diplomatic inquiries, Nadia sat down with pen and paper. Rex had given her instructions to make a list of everyone Peter knew. Then another list of his hobbies and interests. And a third of any place he frequented—churches, stores, bars. Rex had told her to write down everything that came to mind, no matter how trivial.

Twenty minutes later, Rex was off the phone and Nadia had three formidable lists. She was surprised at how many potential leads she had come up with. Rex gathered the bounty hunters together again and they went over Nadia’s lists.

“Peter thinks very highly of himself,” Nadia said when she was given the floor. Rex had asked her to describe his personality and habits to the rest of the team. “He is very superior. He has good taste, or thinks he does, and he considers most Americans to be pigs. He likes fine French wine. And vodka, of course. He only smokes Cuban cigars, which he gets from Russian friends.”

“So, are most of his friends Russian?” Beau asked.

“Yes. He belongs to a society, sort of like a secret club or lodge, that admits only those born in Russia. I don’t even know what it’s called, but you could probably find it through the Russian Orthodox church on Jersey Street.”

“Did he go to that church?” Gavin asked.

“No, he wasn’t remotely religious. But the church has close ties to the lodge.”

She went on to name the two friends Peter hung out with at work—young intellectuals with a radical bent. “They talked about Russian literature and politics. They’re young men, early twenties, I think, and they idolized Peter. He liked to hang out with people he could control.”

“Is that why he married you?” Rex asked.

It was an honest question, but it made Nadia uncomfortable to admit that, yes, for a while he was able to control her. “He dazzled me, especially at first. I admired his intelligence and his fierce ideals, even though they were different from mine. But he chose me because I had access to technology he wanted. It was that simple. Once I realized that, he had no power over me. But by then it was too late. I had told him more than I should have about my work, and that made me vulnerable.”

She hesitated, then added, “This isn’t the first time he’s tried to get secrets out of me. I should have turned him in when I found out what he wanted. But then there were the threats and the violence…he promised to stay out of my life if I kept my mouth shut.”

Nadia had just revealed far more than she’d meant to. She was supposed to be relating Peter’s friends and interests, not justifying her stupidity.

But she saw no condemnation in the bounty hunters’ faces as they listened to her story with rapt attention. She thought she even saw understanding in Rex’s eyes.

She felt lighter, having admitted her past mistakes. She hadn’t realized how deep-seated her guilt was until now.

“If I had turned Peter in,” she finished, “I would not be here now.”

“You couldn’t have known that,” Lori said. “You made the best decision you could at the time. We just have to move forward now, not look back.”

“Let’s focus, people,” Rex said again. “This isn’t Oprah. Nadia, what else is on your list?”

“He loves guns,” Nadia continued, moving quickly past Rex’s rebuke. He was right, of course. They did need to stay focused on the here and now. “He is a very good marksman, and he even took some trophies at a few tournaments.”

“Did he belong to the Payton Gun Club?” Ace asked.

“Yes. It’s on my list. I even went there a few times myself, for target practice.”

“So you can handle a gun,” Lori said with renewed respect.

“Yes, I know firearms,” Nadia said modestly. “My grandmother was a…a collector. She taught me to shoot. I got rid of all my guns when Lily was born, though. I couldn’t stand the thought that someday she might…well, I’m sure you’ve heard the statistics.”

“We know,” Gavin said. “Beau and I both have young children.”

That surprised her. The idea that these tough guys had wives, families, seemed incongruous. Her gaze flickered toward Rex, trying to picture him as a dad, playing softball with his kids, enjoying a backyard barbecue. The picture wouldn’t come.

“Peter had friends at this club?”

“Yes. Another Russian, Vlad. I don’t remember his last name. After I lost interest in shooting, Peter hung out at the club even more. He started participating in the hunts, where they would release an animal onto the grounds and the hunters would compete to see who could track it and kill it first.”

Lori made a face. “That’s really sick.”

“I thought so, too,” Nadia agreed. “But they were very popular events. Peter said there was no greater high than the thrill of the chase.” Though these details about Peter seemed off the subject to Nadia, the bounty hunters were all taking notes or at least listening carefully.

“Do you have any other names from the club?” Rex pressed.

“There was a woman….” She paused. Could that be it? Could that be where she’d seen the rat-faced woman? She’d gone to a wine-and-cheese function shortly before she’d dropped out.

“Nadia, what is it?” Rex asked.

“That might be where I saw the rat-faced woman. I vaguely remember a woman, a Russian accent. She was flirting with Peter, but I was so used to that happening that I just tuned it out. But she had dark hair, not blond.”

“People can change their hair color,” Rex pointed out. “At any rate, this Payton Gun Club sounds like it’s worth checking out.”

“I have a membership,” Ace said, which didn’t surprise anyone. “I know the owner. Rex, I’ll get you a guest pass.”



REX DIDN’T WASTE ANY TIME. He culled the most promising leads from Nadia’s list, and parceled out the assignments. He sent Lori to check out the former co-workers, since they were young and male and kind of nerdy, in Nadia’s opinion. They would respond to a pretty blonde.

Ace volunteered to go to the Orthodox church and see what he could find out about the Russian lodge. “I speak a little Russian,” he said, though he was vague about how he had acquired the skill.

Beau was assigned the fancy smoke shop where Peter got his illegal Cuban cigars. The guy who ran the store was one of Peter’s friends. Gavin offered to check out Peter’s last known address and canvass the neighbors.

“That leaves the gun club for you and me,” Rex said to Nadia. “We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

“I’m going with you?”

“I can’t leave you alone, unprotected,” Rex said. “Peter already tried to kidnap you once. He might have decided blackmailing you using Lily is too risky, since you’re not playing by the rules. Rescuing one hostage is difficult enough. I don’t aim to have to rescue two.”

Though Rex’s protectiveness was strictly practical in nature, it warmed her nonetheless. It had been a very long time since anyone had shown concern for her welfare. And though she knew she was buying all this concern, she liked it. It made her feel secure in a way she hadn’t experienced since Nana Tania’s death.

“Tonight,” he continued, “you’ll stay in a hotel. I can be sure no one follows you there.”

“That’s not really necessary,” she argued. “My house is very sec—” She stopped when she saw the uncompromising look in Rex’s eyes. “Right. A hotel.”



“HOW DID YOU SLEEP?” Rex asked as Nadia climbed into his black Blazer the next morning. She’d managed to acquire some fresh clothes, he noticed. Same jeans, but now she wore a Southeast Texas State University sweatshirt under her windbreaker, probably acquired from the hotel gift shop.

She plugged her cell phone into his cigarette lighter to recharge. “I managed a couple of hours.”

“I take it you didn’t hear from Peter?”

“Not a peep.” She looked at him anxiously. “What if we did the wrong thing? What if he’s broken off communications for good?”

“How bad does he want this…thing you have?”

“Bad.”

“He’ll call. He’s just licking his wounds.”

“But what about Lily? Twenty-four hours have passed now.”

Rex knew the statistics as well as anyone. But he didn’t think they applied here. Peter Danilov was a blackmailer, not a sex fiend. He had a stake in keeping Lily alive. “He’ll call.”

He needed to distract Nadia from her morose thoughts. “I need you to tell me what you know about the Payton Gun Club.” He’d done quite a bit of research last night, but she might have some insights.

“Well, it’s been around for more than a hundred years,” Nadia said. “It used to be a huge estate belonging to one of the town founders—I forget what his name was. But he was really into hunting, and I guess he didn’t have children because he left his entire estate to the city of Payton, with the condition that the land and home be preserved and left undeveloped for use by hunters.”

“How big is it?” Rex asked.

“Several hundred acres. The Payton Gun Club leases the land from the city. The club renovated the barn, then built onto it for its shooting range and administrative offices. But no one had any money to keep up the old house, so now it’s just a crumbling ruin they use for tactical exercises. The rest of the grounds have been left wild. There’s a tall fence around the perimeter, and barriers to prevent stray bullets from getting off club property. But mostly it’s just wilderness.”

“And when they have these live hunts—how does that work?”

“They bring in some deer or javelina hogs or whatever, tag them and turn them loose. Then they turn the hunters loose.”

Rex had to agree with Lori—it did seem barbaric. The animals hardly had a chance, trapped in an enclosed area, even if it was hundreds of acres.

The Payton Gun Club was in a rural area outside the city limits. Though Nadia had described it, Rex wasn’t prepared for the actual place, starting with the wrought-iron fence that ran along the road for a half mile before they actually reached a gate and a discreet sign identifying the place. The peeling sign said Members Only in large letters, but the rusty iron gates were open, so Rex drove in. The Blazer’s tires crunched over the limestone gravel drive.

A smattering of cars was parked in the lot in front of a barnlike structure. Behind the barn was a long cinder-block building with no windows—had to be the indoor shooting range. Through a chain-link fence, Rex could just make out some targets in the distance—an outdoor range, probably not used much in the winter. Farther in the distance, a gray stone house rose up out of the prairie grass and scrubby trees. With its vacant windows and sagging roof, it had to be the former owner’s home, fallen into disrepair.

Beyond the house were woodlands. At least the poor animals had some place to hide.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Rex said. He made no move to exit the car as he tried to get a feel for the club. Maybe he’d seen too many spooky movies as a kid, but the Payton Gun Club had an air of shabbiness and desolation that called to mind maniacal killers in hockey masks. Especially that house. “You used to come here, huh?”

“I like target shooting,” she said. “It sounded like fun. But really, I only came a couple of times. I was never comfortable here, and Peter was just as happy to have me stay home so he could have male bonding moments with his friends. Female bonding, too, if I’m right about rat-face.”

“So you don’t think you’ll be recognized?”

“Doubtful.”

Just the same, he had Nadia pull her distinctive curly hair back with an elastic, then wear a baseball cap and her sunglasses. It was enough to throw off a casual observer, anyway.

Just inside the barn’s double doors was a reception desk. A bored-looking kid sat behind it reading a comic book. “Hi,” Rex greeted him, causing the kid to jump. “Ace McCullough left a couple of guest passes for me and my wife?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re around here someplace….” The kid rummaged around on the desk until he found them. “Dennis and Freesia Blankenship?”

“That’s us.”

“I’ll need some ID,” the kid said, sounding bored.

“Oh, Dennis, I left my purse in the car,” Nadia said.

“That’s okay,” Rex said. “I’ve got my license.” And he did, in fact, have a fake driver’s license. It was Rex’s picture, but Dennis’s name. The kid gave the card a cursory look and jotted down the number which, if anyone checked, would come back as belonging to a deceased person. But he doubted anyone would check. No one ever did.

Rex told the kid they were there to do some target practice with a gun he was thinking of buying. The kid handed them some ear-protectors, assigned them a lane and pointed them in the direction of the indoor range.

The range was bigger than it looked from the outside. And despite the rather shabby exterior, the inside appeared to be state of the art. They found their lane. And while Rex opened the leather case he’d brought and looked at the huge .44 Magnum Ace had loaned him, Nadia covertly checked out the other three shooters.

“I don’t recognize any of them,” Nadia said.

But Rex did. One of them was a Payton police officer, a young patrolman not long out of the Academy who hung around Lyle Palmer and tried to earn brownie points. Andy Arquette, that was his name. Rex did his best to keep his back angled toward Andy, not wanting a confrontation.

Rex wondered why a cop would come here when the police had their own shooting range he could use for free.

Nadia gave a low whistle when she saw the gun. “A Ruger Super Blackhawk .44 Magnum. That is some fancy handgun. I love the blue steel.”

“Your granny must have been quite a knowledgeable collector.”

“Well, actually, Nana Tania was a spy.” Some people reacted strangely to that information, but Rex took it in stride, nodding appreciatively. “After she retired, she said she was glad to be out of the spy business, but she must have missed it some, because she had a closet full of guns. When I was little, we would take them out and play with them the way other little girls take out their Barbie collections.”

Rex just shook his head. “You’ll have to tell me more about your Nana sometime. So, can you shoot this baby?”

She demurred. “I’m really rusty—haven’t touched a firearm since Lily was born. You go ahead.”

He’d been afraid of that. But if they wanted this to look good, they would have to actually fire the gun. He took the wicked-looking blue-steel gun out of its foam nest and loaded one of the many full magazines Ace had included. It clicked into place with a satisfying snick.

A paper target was about fifteen yards down the lane. Rex and Nadia put on their ear protection. Nadia stood back, giving Rex plenty of room. He took a wide-legged stance, put both hands on the gun, stretched out his arms and took aim. But his hands were shaking, and perspiration had broken out on his upper lip and forehead despite the range’s cool temperature. For a few moments, he thought he wouldn’t be able to shoot at all. He thought his stomach would rebel. But somehow, he managed to squeeze off the first shot, then another and another.

That was when the panic started welling up inside his chest. It was the sound of the gunfire, he realized. In the four years he’d been a bounty hunter, he had never discharged his weapon. He’d drawn it and intimidated people with it, as he had Jethro Banner just a couple of days ago. But he hadn’t actually squeezed the trigger until just now.

He laid the gun down, pulled off the ear protection and stepped back.

“Let’s see how you did.” It was Andy Arquette, who’d approached while Rex was shooting. Andy pushed the button that would bring the paper target close for inspection. “Haven’t seen you around here before. Name’s Andy Arquette.”

It appeared that Andy didn’t recognize him, Rex thought. Good. “Dennis Blankenship.” The two men shook hands. “This is my wife, Freesia.” Hell, Nadia didn’t look like a Freesia. Ace had a damnable sense of humor.

She mustered a smile and a quick handshake.

The paper target arrived. Rex didn’t even want to look at it, because he’d practically shot at the thing with his eyes closed. But when he did look, he saw that three of his five shots had actually hit—one in the arm, one in the abdomen, one in the thigh.

“Ooh, that guy’s hurting,” Andy said charitably. He was a tall, skinny guy with straight black hair. Rex didn’t like the way he was looking at Nadia.

“I’ve never shot this gun before,” Rex said, feeling he needed to rationalize his lousy marksmanship.

“Why don’t you give it a try…Freesia,” Andy said. Something about his tone bothered Rex. Was there a slight challenge to the suggestion?

“It’s an awfully big gun for a lady,” Rex said, trying to give Nadia an out. She’d said she didn’t want to shoot.

But she surprised him. “I’ll give it a try.” With the push of a button she sent the target out to the same distance at which Rex had shot it. Then, after a short hesitation, she pushed the button again, sending it even farther.

“You sure?”

Wordlessly she put on her ear protection, and Rex followed suit. Rather than the wide-legged stance Rex had taken, she stepped one foot back and planted it in a wide lunge. Then she aimed, sighting down the barrel with one eye, her face a mask of total concentration.

She pulled the trigger, then kept on pulling it until the magazine was empty. Though the gun had a colossal kick, Nadia hardly seemed to notice it. Her unconventional posture seemed to work well for her.

She laid the gun down, pulled off the ear protection, then pushed the button to bring the target close once again.

Rex’s blood drained to his feet when he got a good look at the target. Every one of Nadia’s shots had hit the paper man in the head.

“Damn.” Andy barely breathed the word. “Freesia, you’re not a member here, are you?”

“No, just a guest.”

“We could sure use you on our coed team. Lemme show you around—maybe y’all will want to join.”

“Sure, we’d love to look around,” Nadia said. That was why they’d come, after all—to nose around, find out if anyone had seen Peter recently.

Rex packed up the Magnum.

“You can check that into a locker if you don’t want to carry it around,” Andy said. “The lockers are free.”

“That’s all right, I’ll keep it,” Rex replied.

Andy showed them around the building. They’d already seen most of it, except for a small lounge area, which was currently empty. “Members are encouraged to socialize here—but only after they’re done shooting for the day. The owners are very strict about alcohol use.”

They went through a set of double glass doors to the outdoor range. Two men in camouflage with an arsenal of hunting rifles stood around, discussing the merits of their guns, but otherwise it was quiet.

“There’s a trap range on the other side of that earth barricade, and also a forty-yard tin-can range.”

They walked a little farther until they reached a small metal shed near a gate. Andy led them toward it and opened the door. “We keep reflective vests stored in here for the members’ convenience. We recommend you wear them. The wilderness area is over four hundred acres, and you never know who might be out here with a gun. You don’t want to be mistaken for a wild pig.”

They donned the neon orange vests and walked into the wilderness as Andy explained about the bountiful dove, quail, ducks and pheasants the members bagged. “Rabbit and squirrel are fair game year round,” he added with a grin that set Rex’s teeth on edge. “Good eatin’.”

They tromped farther out. Rex kept looking for an opening, a way he could casually ask about Peter, but he didn’t trust Andy, who seemed far too friendly, so he had to proceed with caution.

Andy pointed out the crumbling old mansion. “Game likes to hide in there,” Andy said. “One time during a javelina hunt, I cornered something in there with red eyes, and I thought I had me a pig. It turned out to be a possum.”

“They make a good stew,” Rex said, trying to get into the spirit of the conversation, though hunting animals had never appealed to him. He found it much more sporting to hunt something with an equivalent level of intelligence to his.

“So, who referred you to the Payton Gun Club?” Andy asked conversationally.

“Ace McCullough,” Rex answered. “He’s been a member a long time.”

“I’ve heard of him, of course,” Andy said. “He’s kind of a legend. Never met him, though.”

“I know another guy who’s a member here,” Rex said. “Peter Danilov?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I know Peter. He’s out here a lot.”

Was there just the tiniest hesitation when Andy answered? “You know, I tried to get hold of that guy recently, and the number I had for him was no good. I thought maybe he’d moved away. Has he been around lately?”

“Yeah, I saw him a coupla weeks ago,” Andy said. “When I see him again, I’ll tell him to get in touch with you.”

“And that friend of his, Vlad—ah, hell, I can’t remember his last name.”

“I know who you’re talking about. I couldn’t tell you his last name, either—all those Russian names sound alike to me,” he added in a good-ol’-boy twang that didn’t fool Rex.

Andy made a show of checking his watch. “Oh, hell, I gotta go. Y’all just take your time, have a good look around. Freesia, we’d love to have you on our team. You too, Dennis,” he added as an afterthought.

Yeah, right. Maybe Rex would join the club after all. With some practice he could at least learn to shoot a paper man with some degree of accuracy, even if he couldn’t shoot a real one.

“So,” Nadia said as they scuffed their way along a faint path that wove through an open field of tall prairie grasses, “Peter’s been here recently. If we had Vlad’s last name…”

“We might be able to weasel it out of the front desk guy,” Rex said, just as something whizzed by his left ear.

His reaction was instinctual and instantaneous. He threw Nadia onto the ground and fell on top of her. The distant report of a high-caliber rifle reached his ears before he’d finished falling.




Chapter Four


“Crawl,” Rex ordered, easing his weight from her so she could push up to hands and knees. He positioned himself next to her, between her and the old house, which was where the bullet had come from. Somehow he dragged the gun case along with him, grateful he’d obeyed his instincts and not let Andy talk him into stowing the gun in a locker.

“We need cover,” he said. “We need to make those trees.”

Nadia didn’t question him. She crawled, and she did it quickly. Rex hoped the tall prairie grass would conceal their movements, but if their marksman was any good, he would see the grasses rippling in their wake.

If he’d been the sniper, he’d have fired into the grass. But no more shots came.

Then Rex realized why. The gunman had been shooting at Rex. He couldn’t risk shooting at grass because he might hit Nadia—and Peter needed Nadia.

They were thirty yards from the nearest trees. But Nadia was agile and covered the distance quickly. They plunged into the woods several yards before stopping to catch their breath.

“Is there a very stupid hunter out there?” Nadia asked in a hoarse whisper. “Or was someone shooting at us on purpose?”

“With us in these orange vests?” Rex whispered back. “I doubt it was an accident. Anyway, bird hunters use shotguns, not rifles.” As Rex spoke, he pulled the Magnum from its case and loaded it with a fresh magazine. “Maybe I should give this to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Shooting at a target is a lot different than defending against a live shooter.”

She didn’t know the half of it. If she had any idea of his history, she’d yank the gun out of his hand so fast…

“Someone must have been watching for me to show up,” Nadia said. “That kid at the front desk, do you think?”

“My guess is Andy Arquette.”

“He did seem a little…insincere,” Nadia agreed.

“Did Peter have any contacts in law enforcement?”

“He used to get a speeding ticket at least once a week, and he never had to pay them,” she said.

That was all Rex needed to know. “I’m willing to bet Peter’s power base is right here. We guessed right.”

“For all the good it will do us if we don’t get out alive.”

“We’ll get out. But we need to move—as quickly and quietly as possible. And we need to get rid of these damn vests.” The neon orange, designed to prevent hunting accidents, could have the opposite effect in their case. They shed the vests.

They couldn’t get out the way they came in. That path involved too much open prairie, and Rex wanted to avoid the old mansion, which afforded their shooter an excellent bird’s-eye view.

Rex knew approximately where they were on the property, based on a map he’d seen near the front desk. He also knew the only way they were getting out of this place alive was over the fence—unless they killed the person hunting them, and Rex didn’t want to think about that. He’d had more than his fill of killing.

They cut through the woods, which was thick with undergrowth. It offered good cover but made for slow going. Tree branches and mesquite scrub scratched them as they blazed a path.

At one point they stopped to listen, as they’d been doing every few minutes. Before, they’d heard nothing. Now, Rex discerned two sounds that concerned him. One was a barking dog. It was a good bet some of the hunters who hung out here had tracking dogs. The other sound was unmistakably running water. Rex had seen a stream or river on the map, but he couldn’t remember now precisely where it had run. They would probably have to cross it to get to the perimeter fence.

“Dogs,” Nadia whispered.

“Let’s keep moving.”

Rather than avoiding the water, Rex headed for it. If they waded or swam in the steam, the dogs might lose their scent. Of course, they might freeze to death. It was maybe fifty degrees out, not terribly cold, but the water in streams around these parts came from mountain springs way up in Colorado and would turn them blue in no time.

When they reached the stream, it turned out to be a very shallow, fast-running creek. They scrambled down the limestone bank as the dogs’ baying—definitely more than one dog—grew louder.

Rex grabbed Nadia’s hand. “Let’s run along the creek. Maybe the dogs won’t be able to follow our scent. At least it might slow them.”

“Do you have the slightest idea where we are?” Nadia asked. “Because I don’t.”

“I know exactly where we are.” It was an exaggeration, but he needed Nadia to be optimistic and confident. He couldn’t afford for her to fall apart in despair.

They splashed along the stream for maybe a quarter mile, until the water got deeper and they couldn’t move quickly enough. They climbed out on the opposite bank, using protruding rocks and roots and small bushes to pull themselves up. Then they started running again, shoes squishing with water.

“I can still hear the dogs,” Nadia said, panting slightly. He was amazed at her stamina and wondered what she did to stay in shape.

“We can’t be far from the fence now.” And they weren’t. He saw it looming ahead, and his heart sank. He’d been hoping to discover a chain-link fence with some sort of baffling behind it to prevent stray bullets from escaping the gun club’s grounds. What he saw was a sheer sheet-metal wall, ten feet high and extending as far as he could see in both directions. With razor wire at the top.

Nadia stopped and stared at the fence. “Bozhe moj, we’ll never get over that.”

“It seems excessive for a hunting club,” Rex observed, wondering why the Payton Gun Club needed this degree of fortification. It called to mind some crazy cult, preparing to barricade itself inside a fortified compound with lots of weaponry and await the revolution. But there was no time to ponder the gun club’s motives. The dogs were getting closer—Rex could see them now. The foray into the creek hadn’t fooled them—they were probably tracking their prey on the wind anyway.

Rex looked up and down the fence line until he spotted something promising. “How good are you at climbing trees?”



NADIA WAS ACTUALLY VERY GOOD at climbing trees, or she had been when she was twelve. She’d been something of a tomboy as a child. Her American grandfather in Michigan had owned an orchard, and she’d spent many a fall day climbing high into the branches to snag apples the pickers had missed. When she saw what Rex had in mind, she didn’t hesitate. She kicked off her athletic shoes and socks and climbed barefoot, gripping the old pecan tree’s trunk with her feet like a monkey, using the barest of handholds. The skill came back to her without effort. She even remembered not to look down.

Rex was right behind her—and the dogs right behind Rex. No sooner had he cleared the ground than two enormous black-and-tan hound dogs leaped through the underbrush toward them. Moments later they were at the bottom of the tree trunk, baying loudly. Fortunately their human counterpart—the one with the gun—was far behind.

Nadia headed for one high branch in particular that reached out almost over the perimeter fence. She could walk out onto it a short distance, holding on to a branch above her for balance, but soon she lost her handhold and she had to sit on her branch and scoot. Unfortunately, the branch bent lower and lower with her weight. By the time she reached the wall, she was below the top. This wasn’t going to work.

But Rex had the solution. He had grabbed on to the sturdier branch above and was working his way toward her, hand over hand, as if he were on playground monkey bars. “Grab on to my leg!”




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