Hostile Ground: The Arsenal, #7

By Cara Carnes

Do whatever it takes to survive…

 

Addy Rugers survived a treacherous, brutal upbringing after her parents died. Trained for death and seduction and forced to work for her brother's covert ops organization, she learned to rely only on herself and chameleon her way through every mission. With him dead and his organization dismantled, she now has a new life at The Arsenal—one where she can shed her personas and be herself. Now, she must immerse herself in the nightmarish world she fled and trust the one man with the power to destroy her.

 

To slay a monster, you must become one…

 

Kristof Lavrov sank into the criminal underworld two decades ago with one objective—revenge. The sacrifices made are only outnumbered by the atrocities he's committed under the banner of vengeance. What little of his humanity remains is now under fire when he agrees to help the one woman that he'd sacrifice anything to protect. Their lives have intersected more than once, and he's always had the strength to walk away.

 

Until now.

 

They must work together to save those they love, but the real war is one neither of them is prepared to wage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heartscape Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Jul 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393571605

Book preview

1

Twenty-two years ago…

Outside Moscow, Russia

Papa, no! Kristof Sidorav struggled between the two men holding him. Pain ran down his shoulders, but he didn’t care. Mama needed him to be strong. Mama!

Tears trekked down the woman’s face when she looked at him. Blood ran down her busted lip and along both eyes. Why was Papa hurting her? Had Kristof made him mad again? Mama always took his anger whenever he did. But he wasn’t young and scared anymore. He was a man. Fourteen.

Papa, I’m sorry. Punish me, Kristof begged.

You’d hide behind our son, Kostya said. Anger boomed within his voice as he pressed the gun against her forehead. Tell him what you did.

Kostya, please. Do whatever to me but take him away. Her voice broke toward the end as she gasped for breaths. Papa had squeezed her throat so hard earlier Kristof had worried she’d die.

No. Not Mama.

Tears tumbled down his face. Papa hated when he cried. Maybe if he cried harder, he’d punish him rather than her.

Tell him! Papa screamed.

I betrayed your father, she said. Her gaze swept to Uncle Kir, whose body laid face down, his wide, dead eyes focused on where she knelt in front of Papa.

I gave you everything and you dared spread your legs for him like a whore. He spat in her face and squeezed her throat with his left hand. No one betrays me and lives. Especially not you.

Kristof struggled once again. Ivan punched him in the stomach. Watch! This is what happens to whores and betrayers.

I love you, Kristof. Never forget that. Mama clutched at Papa’s hand as he squeezed harder.

The gunshot boomed in the room. Blood sprayed the area as Papa stepped back and Mama fell. No. Shock and pain rolled through Kristof as Ivan and the other man released their grip.

He surged forward and fell to his knees. Mama!

Kristof drew his mama into his arms and rocked back and forth. Garbled grief rolled from his throat as he cried.

Enough. My son will not grieve for a whore. Papa dragged him backward.

Kristof pulled away from his papa and turned. Why? How could you? He punched the man’s chest and squeezed his eyes shut, but all he could see was Mama’s blood. All he heard was the gunshot.

Enough! Papa bellowed. You will not cry for a whore. She’s made you weak.

Kristof glared up at the man who’d done nothing but hurt and scare him. He’d never hugged him close like Mama had. He’d never told stories or sung songs or played with him. I hate you!

Pain exploded along his jaw. He touched the area and glared up at his papa. Red filled the man’s face. Evil lurked within his eyes like it always did.

I’ll kill you for this, Kristof promised.

Papa laughed. You are nothing but a weak and pathetic runt I should’ve smothered at birth. Now that she’d not here to coddle you, you’ll become what you must. My son. My heir. My legacy.

Never. Kristof clenched his fists and fed the anger filling him. Papa was right. He was too weak to kill Papa for what he’d done, but he’d get stronger than Papa.

He’d pay for killing Mama.

Ivan, bring the car around. It’s time to take Kristof to his new home.

And them? Ivan asked as he pointed to Mama and Uncle Kir.

Bury them in the back yard with the dogs, Papa said. He grabbed Kristof’s throat. Your new life begins tonight, Kristof. Don’t disappoint me or you’ll be buried beside her. I’d rather have no heir than a weak bitch like you.

Pain spread through Addison Rugers’ body as she teetered on her right foot with her arms outstretched. The uneven bark from the post dug into her bare foot, but she ignored the discomfort because her time was near an end. Water dripped from the spigot in the corner. Her throat ached, but she didn’t dare leave her position even though no one watched. If she stopped now, she’d have to start again.

Anger kept her focused as the door behind her squeaked open. Had more time passed than she realized? Was her latest round of punishment finished?

Get in and keep quiet, Misha growled in Russian as she shoved a thin boy into Addy’s view.

The boy wore a white uniform denoting his new entry into the training camp. What is this place?

The punishment cabin. You’ll remain here for three days so you’ll know what will happen when you disobey us. Misha’s boots dragged in the dirt as she turned. This is Addy. She spends more time here than anywhere.

Addy glared at the woman, then returned her gaze to the small hole on the wall across from her. It was one of forty-one on that wall.

Have you made a decision, Addy? Misha asked.

She didn’t answer. The woman already knew her answer was no.

Very well. Misha walked over to the small table nearby.

Addy’s pulse quickened and her empty stomach knotted. Which implement would she choose? Addy’s gaze cut to the boy, who looked older than her ten years. He was tall but skinny with dark blond hair and wide, gray eyes.

Fall and your time begins again, Misha said as she lifted a leather strap so Addy could see. Decisions have consequences, Kristof. Today you will learn from her poor choices.

Addy’s pulse quickened as Misha disappeared behind her. Rather than close her eyes, she sought the boy’s gray gaze. His face reflected worry and fear. She’d learned to read emotions quickly the past three years.

Pain exploded on the exposed bottom of her left foot. She bit her lip to stifle the scream as she tottered left, then right, then forward until she leveled out.

Stay on the post. Stay on the post. Stay on the post.

The strikes echoed in the room. Addy counted each one silently but gasped when Misha landed one to her bruised butt. She remained atop the post with each blow despite the pain.

Then Misha struck the backs of her knees. Addy crumbled forward, catching herself with the palms of her hands. Pain exploded up her sore arms. Her eyes burned, but she wouldn’t cry. Not in front of Misha.

Intense gray eyes met hers when she looked up. The boy held out a hand.

Don’t help her, Misha ordered. Her punishment ends when she does as she was ordered. You have an hour to rest, then we begin again, Addy. Use your time wisely. I expect to find that rabbit dead at the door when I return.

The woman paused at the door and took a bag from the guard. It landed with a thud near the boy. This is your dinner. I’ll go through the camp’s rules when I return.

Addy remained on all fours as the door slammed shut and the lock fell into place. She was gone. Tears trekked down her face. She would’ve made it if Misha hadn’t brought the boy in. She’d been so close.

Next time.

Addy looked over at the cage. Bunny hadn’t eaten or drunk since yesterday. Neither had she. She crawled over to the water spigot in the corner and cupped her hands beneath the dripping spout. She lapped greedily.

Wait! the boy shouted. Russian.

She’d learned Russian three years ago to survive. She was the only one in the camp forbidden from speaking English, her native tongue.

Addy glared his direction when he knelt beside her and dumped the bag’s contents on the ground between them. A large loaf of bread and a chunk of meat. Her stomach growled, but she looked up at the boy. What was he doing?

He gently pulled her hands out of the way and put the plastic bag beneath the dribbling water. He used the rubber band from the bag holding the meat to tie it into place. This will be easier.

Right. Addy settled with her butt on the ground. You shouldn’t help me.

We’ll both need to drink, he said. I’m Kristof.

Addy.

Is she always like that?

She is with me. Addy shrugged. I don’t obey. It’ll be easier for you.

Kristof’s gaze narrowed. You don’t know that.

She studied him again. He was older than her, but not by much—which meant he was still younger than the others that came to the camp. You shouldn’t be here. You’re too young.

I’m older than you.

Everyone’s older than me. Addy watched the water dribble. Her mouth dried.

Here. Kristof undid the band and pulled the bag off. He handed it to her. We’ll gather more once you’ve drunk.

Addy gulped the water quickly, then held the empty bag out. Thank you.

Silence filled the area around them as they watched the bag fill. Addy didn’t mind the quiet because it gave her time to think about Mom and Dad. Things had been easier before they died and her brother Peter brought her to this place.

She wanted to go home.

Tears burned her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. Kristof would laugh at her like the others did. They didn’t ever cry.

Here. Kristof held the bag out.

Rather than drink it down like she wanted, she held it close and walked to the corner. Kneeling, she opened the small cage and took Bunny out. The rabbit drank as she held the bag open. At least it wouldn’t be thirsty anymore.

Is that your pet?

No. Addy stroked the animal. It doesn’t deserve to die. Misha said I’m weak because I won’t kill it.

Kristof sat against the wall facing her. He took a hunk of bread and ripped it into small pieces. Surprise filled Addy when he held one out to the rabbit.

Misha will be mad if she knows you fed it.

Then she’ll be really mad when we set it free.

Free? Addy looked at the crazy boy.

He motioned toward the table, then the wall with all the holes. I bet we can find something on there to either dig a hole in the ground beneath the floor or make one of the holes toward the bottom bigger. You can’t kill what isn’t here.

They’ll just bring another, Addy whispered.

He shrugged. One problem at a time.

Why are you helping me?

Because I can. Mama would want me to. His voice cracked at the end. Tears shimmered in his gaze. She loved animals.

Loved. She was dead. Sadness filled Addy as she looked down. My mom and dad died. My brother brought me here after.

How old are you?

Ten.

How long have you been here?

Three years. Addy swallowed as Kristof returned to the spigot and secured the bag in place. He was smart—way smarter than her. She should’ve thought about freeing Bunny. How old are you?

Fourteen. Kristof moved to the table. Let’s get to work.

You’ll get into trouble.

It’ll be worth it. He motioned toward the rest of the bread and the meat. Eat. I’ll work first.

For the first time in a long while, Addy didn’t feel like she was alone. Maybe Kristof could be a friend. She stroked Bunny, then set her down and took half the bread and meat. She chewed slow and rested between bites as she watched the strange boy with the pretty gray eyes use a whip’s grip to dig a hole beneath the rotting board at the bottom.

At least you’ll be free, Bunny, Addy whispered.

2

One week earlier

Moscow

Cheers and jeers echoed through the small warehouse and deafened the barked orders of tonight’s referee as Addison Rugers stepped into the metal cage. Beer, sweat, and blood tainted her nostrils as her gaze swept the swelling crowd as they surged forward for a better view of the final battle. She’d either defend her reign on the underground fighting circuit or be carried out. Alive was an option, but so was death.

No rules.

This is bullshit, Beast thundered in the com. We never agreed to cage matches.

None of her Arsenal team was on board with her decision to fight in the underground circuit to reaffirm her cover as Iriana Duprinsky, but they’d agreed because it was the best way to not only reestablish the persona within Kristof Lavrov’s network, but to also hunt for anyone in Yesim’s splinter cell.

Yesim and his small band of followers who’d broken off from their former syndicate had proven difficult to find, but thanks to the past week of fighting she’d done, The Arsenal had tracked them to a small apartment in the Maryino District. Because of Addy’s fights, they now had a target location to surveille.

With any luck, they’d be able to grab one of Yesim’s crew tonight and interrogate them because the final combatant in tonight’s battles—the victor she’d fight to a possible death—was a henchman in Yesim’s former syndicate. Someone within his crew would show to watch. Addy hoped Yesim himself would show his paranoid ass and they could finally find out where the hell he’d hidden the biochemical weapons The Arsenal was hunting down.

Addy can handle this, Jesse Mason said in the com. Fan out within the crowd. Cracker, be ready to disperse drones if necessary. Shep, position yourself near the chained cage entry in case she needs backup.

Her team clicked off their agreement in the otherwise silent com. Jesse Mason was one of the best operatives she’d ever worked with and had recently taken a position within The Arsenal’s Operations in order to have more time with his new family. Addy was thankful he’d taken the lead for tonight because he was one of the best strategists she’d ever worked with and kept his shit together when things went sideways.

A brute over six foot tall by a solid five or so inches stepped into the cage. Yellow teeth flashed with a sneer as he raked his gaze over her and stomped forward. The makeshift flooring jumped with each hard clomp of his booted feet.

He’s got to be three-fifty, maybe more, Beast said. Solid muscle and twice her size. Call this shit off now, Jesse.

Stand down, Addy growled in the com as she bounced from foot to foot and eyed her competition as he halted a few feet from her in the center of the cage. His meaty fists clenched into cannonball-sized weapons she had no intention of enduring for long.

Knock his ass out. Move on.

The referee glared at her in a not-so-subtle warning he’d issued the past three fights—make it good for the crowd. Translation—don’t knock their asses out in the first few minutes. Drag it out. Make it a close fight.

Easy for his scrawny ass to say.

Movement within the cleared area separating the cage from the crowd drew her attention. Awareness beaded along her skin as her gaze locked with Kristof Lavrov. He smirked as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat alongside Ivan, his second-in-command.

Addy glared at Ivan. She wouldn’t mind dragging his ass into this ring. Maybe when the mission was over and The Arsenal had found the missing missiles, she could reward herself by knocking his ass out.

Thunder, get the drones in the air, Jesse said. Everyone else be on the lookout for the facial tat that marks any of Yesim’s crew. I want anyone in the crowd with that tat in our custody before Addy ends this fight.

Pride filled her. There was no doubt in Jesse’s mind she’d win. Adrenaline surged when the referee shouted the one word that’d begin the battle.

Go!

Addy shuffled backward when the brute powered forward and punched a meaty fist her direction. He stumbled from the lack of contact but recovered quickly and moved toward her.

The crowd shouted their anger when she continued the avoidance dance back and forth. The fight promoters didn’t appreciate her knocking the competition out the first couple of minutes and she wasn’t about to take a beating.

Her opponent’s heavy breathing and angered shouts filled her ears a couple minutes later. Game on. She vaulted forward and kicked upward. Pain jolted up her legs as her feet impacted with the man’s face. She tumbled onto the floor and rolled away quickly. Jumping up, she grinned when he spat blood from his mouth. Blood oozed from his nose and a split lip.

Northeast side of the arena, toward the back, Shep said. Two confirmed targets.

On my way to intercept, Cracker said.

The brute pounded a fist into her stomach. Addy wheezed and ignored the pain slamming through her as she responded with an uppercut to his chin and a roundhouse kick. Rage bellowed from him as he grabbed her and hoisted her up above his head.

She’d watched his two fights earlier in the night and realized he had two go-to moves: cannonball punches to the face and stomach, and hoisting his opponents above his head so he could slam them down onto the ground or across his knee.

Addy cursed and shifted her weight until she rolled her legs above her head and fell. She grabbed his head with both hands and coiled her legs around his waist from her new position on his back. A snap of the neck would end the fight easily enough, but her team needed time to secure the two targets they’d spotted. She was the diversion.

She squeezed his neck until he fell to his knees. Pushing off his back, she moved backward and then around in the cage until they faced one another again. Outrage reddened his face as he rose and charged forward.

Idiot. She didn’t give opponents many chances to catch their breath. He should’ve taken it while he could. Holding her position, she waited until she was within his reach to dart sideways and kick his shins just below the knee at the back.

The cage rattled with the impact of his heavy body when he stumbled forward into it. She grabbed his sweaty blond hair and dragged his face across the metal cage a few inches as she hauled his arm backward with her other hand.

She fell onto her back when he slammed against her, but she rolled to her feet and attacked with a strike to his groin followed with another kick to his face. The crowd deafened her with their roars when he collapsed to the ground again.

Ragged breaths escaped when she leaned forward and rested her hands on her knees. Tell me you’ve got them.

Exfilling from the northeastern exit, Shep said.

Van in position, Thunder commented.

Take him out and get out of there, Red, Beast ordered.

Red. Only her team got by with the nickname that didn’t even suit her right now since she’d dyed her hair blonde for the mission. She stood fully and took a couple deep breaths as the man rose yet again. He was a big brute with more determination than common sense.

You should’ve stayed down, she growled angrily in Russian.

You die tonight!

Okay then. So much for being nice. Then again, Iriana wasn’t ever nice. She was lethal attitude all the way. Addy’s gaze cut to where Kristof sat. His eyebrows rose when their gazes locked.

Damned bastard was a serious pain in her ass. He was everything she despised—a cutthroat mercenary turned underground smuggler and procurer of anything and everyone with value. He killed and bought and sold without hesitation if the price was right.

Yet he was also everything she’d once…

Don’t go there. Focus.

Kristof upended her life every time he appeared. One day she’d excise him once and for all. Somehow.

Addy fed the anger rolling through her and returned her attention to the brute blinking rapidly and lumbering toward her. Blood ran from his nose and along his cut lip. The idiot was going to land out with a permanently scrambled brain if he didn’t give up already.

Then again, one solid punch from his huge fists and she’d be the one with a scrambled brain. Rather than move backward like she’d always done, she surged forward and dodged his fist by lowering her center of gravity. Two well aimed strikes to his solar plexus began what she hoped to be the final confrontation for the night. Hands behind his neck, she dragged his face downward and slammed it against her raised knee. Blood sprayed across her T-shirt. She released her grip and glared down as he fell to the ground.

Leaning forward, she forced a couple deep breaths as the referee finally exited the safety of the cage’s corner and ran forward. He grabbed her arm and raised it up. The crowd cheered.

The bloodier the end, the higher the revelry. Disgusted by the entire underground fight scene, Addy stalked toward the locked exit and waited as someone opened it. Three rickety steps down and she was out. Each breath she drew was tainted with sweat, body odor, cigar smoke, and liquor as she made her way down the narrow strip of space cordoned off for the fighters to enter the back section of the warehouse.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

Lavrov’s behind you, Beast said in the com.

Addy sighed her exhaustion and clung to what patience she had left. Kristof’s presence at the fights and his constant shadowing of her after the night ended strengthened her cover as Iriana. But the man had no self-preservation and never gave her a moment to compose herself before he forced an interaction.

Iriana. His deep, velvety voice rolled through her the moment they entered the quiet backroom.

Addy ignored the greeting and continued scanning her surroundings. Ivan did the same, displeasure on his face whenever their gazes met. When she was confident they were alone, she turned and scowled at Kristof.

Awareness beaded along her skin as he scanned her body. Fists clenched, she looked away and took a deep breath. Now’s not the time.

It’s never the time. He took another step forward until he was in her personal space. Is any of that yours?

Any of that. The blood. She shook her head, unsure why she always offered him the reassurance even though she owed him nothing.

No more fights. You’ve made enough of a reputation, Iriana.

I decide when I’m done, not you.

Kristof grabbed her hair and pulled backward until their gazes locked. Breath swooshed from her lungs as her pulse quickened. Hot breath fanned across her face. Don’t test my patience tonight.

The whispered warning in her ear quickened her pulse. Step back. I wouldn’t want to get that expensive suit bloodied up.

I can live with that as long as it isn’t your blood. He released his grip on her hair. You took too long to take him out. Don’t play with your food.

Addy chuckled and turned away. She dragged on a loose pair of sweatpants over the top of her shorts and grabbed an oversized T-shirt. Ivan glowered as he crossed his arms.

What’s wrong with Ivan? Did he bet against me again? Addy asked.

Probably. Kristof crossed his arms. The promoter wants you gone. You’re bad for business.

Addy picked up her bag and regarded Kristof. You pay him to say that?

No. I’d pay him to turn you away if I chose to go against your wishes.

Like I said, I decide when this is done. Her presence in the fighting rings garnered attention within the seedy underworld. They’d already found some of Yesim’s crew because of the fights.

Every person they captured was a step forward. She’d continue doing whatever was necessary to secure the biochemical weapons.

For Rhea.

Her friend had finally agreed to take some much-needed time off. She and Fallon had taken vacation time to visit his recently found childhood friends. Addy intended for this entire mess to be finished before they returned.

Team has the two targets secured, Beast said in the com. Get out of there, Red.

You taking me home tonight? Addy took a step into Kristof’s personal space. His eyes flashed wide a moment before he settled a hand at her hip. My home, not yours.

I figured as much. You wouldn’t ever make it that simple.

She had. Once. Bitterness coated her tongue as she shoved away from his touch. Let’s go.

Iriana. Wait. He grabbed her arm.

She shoved away from him. I warned you once. Don’t ever bring that shit up. It’s dead, just like you’ll be if you cross that line.

In a moment of weakness months ago, she’d given Kristof an opening—one she’d expected him to take. Sating lust was a necessity she rarely concerned herself with. She’d been foolishly reckless. But what did it say about her that a man with no moral scruples turned her away?

Let’s go, Addy repeated.

The sooner this damned mission was over, the better. She’d been the best option to entrench The Arsenal within Kristof’s network because she already had an established identity as Iriana. Kristof was their in to the auction where the missiles would be a sold.

Addy had hoped they’d find the weapons long before the auction took place, but so far they’d had no success. Yesim and his crew might be a relatively new splinter cell, but the bastard was either brilliant or lucky.

Or he had help.

Ivan pulled the vehicle to the rear exit a few minutes later. She got in after Kristof and focused on the chatter in her com as her team rendezvoused with the other Arsenal teams in Moscow. Although she wanted to be with her fellow operatives, maintaining her Iriana cover was her primary objective—which meant she’d waste a solid forty-five minutes being driven to their apartment in the Maryino District, where they’d taken up residence across the street from the one known location for some of Yesim’s crew.

I have several meetings I must take this week, Kristof said. It’s best if you aren’t present.

That’s not an option. I go where you go. Addy cut her gaze to the man beside her.

Intensity resonated within his gray eyes. Once blond hair was now a brown so dark it glimmered black with the pale moonlight and streetlights. Unlike most of his vehicles, the BMW he’d chosen tonight didn’t have dark tinted windows. Was it armored? Probably.

Kristof cut no corners—a fact Addy admired even though she hated why it was necessary. He thrived within an unsavory, illegal, and treacherous world where he was the king, the one everyone sought to do business with.

There are facets of my business you shouldn’t see.

Addy’s gaze cut to the closed partition separating them from Ivan. We were clear on this from the beginning. I go where you go. No exceptions. No judgments. We don’t give a damn what you’re involved with, not right now. There’s only one thing we care about. The missiles.

Kristof unbuttoned his suit jacket. She allowed herself a few seconds to admire the snug crawl of fabric across his broad chest. It was one of the tells she’d noted last week. Anytime he was uncomfortable, he buttoned or unbuttoned the Kevlar-lined blazer and redirected his gaze.

That was before the auction got pressed back, not once but twice. This objective wasn’t supposed to take this long.

We aren’t going anywhere until we’ve found what we’re looking for. Trust me, this is the very last place I want to be, Addy said. Her stomach somersaulted as his gaze returned to her. His lips thinned as he thumped a fist against the window.

You’re finally ready to address what happened last time?

No. That’s never a discussion topic.

The Addy I knew wouldn’t shy away from an uncomfortable conversation. She’d want to clear the air.

That Addy died a long time ago. You never knew her.

You’re wrong. His voice lowered. We will discuss what happened that night before you leave Moscow.

Like hell they would. She’d buried everything that went down the last time he’d helped The Arsenal recover Zoey’s friend from an illegal auction. It’d never see the light of day. No good came from discussing the past, especially the parts where her life had briefly intersected with Kristof through the years.

Once this mission was over, she’d never see him again.

The vehicle pulled to a stop outside the tenement-style apartment building she’d taken up residence in. She opened the door and stepped out. Cool air rushed across her skin and whipped her hair in her face.

We will discuss this later, Kristof said.

No. We won’t. Addy glared down at the man. Call me when you’re going to your meetings. I go where you go. Don’t cross me. You won’t like the consequences.

Kristof smirked. I’d almost welcome them for a chance to clear the air between us.

They’d never clear the air. Too much violence and death lurked within the chasm their chaotic lives created. Addy slammed the door and headed toward the apartment entrance. She paused at the door as Ivan pulled away.

Beast exited the building and drew her into a forced hug. Fuck, Red. Not sure how many more of those bouts we can handle.

Her second-in-command never treaded lightly into a conversation. She pulled away and took a moment to study his face. The streetlamp nearby cast his short, blond hair with pale light that accentuated the jagged scar running from his right eye across his cheek, where it ended near the cleft in his chin. A day’s growth peppered his jawline and spotlighted his thinned lips.

Anger and determination resonated within his turbulent brown gaze. He glanced at the parking lot and cracked his knuckles. Yep, he wasn’t happy. Knuckle cracking was one of the only tells the man exhibited when stressed.

This shit can’t continue, Red. He charged head-first into the fray and stood his ground.

The fights are ending. Addy headed down the cracked sidewalk. His long stride caught up with her quickly as they entered the building and made their way up the stairs.

Even though the Maryino District was heavily populated, most residents were day laborers or other people who kept their heads down and their mouths shut. No one caused problems if they were left alone.

Beast grasped her arm and drew them to a halt. Everyone’s worried.

The fights are worth it if we can find some of Yesim’s crew. The sooner we get those missiles, the better. Addy hurried her pace.

Kristof isn’t a fan either. If the promoter is getting pissed, that’ll cause more trouble than it’s worth, Beast said. One more week, then you’re done with that shit. The auction is in a couple weeks. We’ll either find another way before then, or we’ll take them down at the auction.

Addy swallowed the argument poised on her tongue. Although she was the team leader, she recognized Beast’s determined voice. He’d likely gotten the entire team’s thoughts on the matter before addressing her. Hell, he’d likely gotten the rest of The Arsenal’s teams input as well. He was stubbornly thorough man who held his ground.

Truth told, she was tired of the fights. Breaking bones and drawing blood made her feel as though she bathed in carnage she’d never scrape off. Lavrov’s got meetings set this week. He didn’t want me there, but I reminded him of our arrangement.

You’d probably be better off not witnessing that shit.

Until this is over, I’m Iriana. She remains at his side and does everything necessary.

Beast’s wide, muscular body tensed as he cracked his knuckles once more. I hate that you’re doing this. We could’ve found another way without using this identity.

She’s the safest in. Too much is at stake.

Promise me you’ll come to us if it’s too much. Don’t keep shit bottled up inside. Beast halted his progression and grasped her arm. We hate that you’re in that bastard’s world. Alone.

I’m never alone. She tapped the com. I’ve got the best team ever at my back and the best organization in existence at the ready. We’ve got this.

3

Present Day

Moscow

Addy. Lavrov’s outside.

Zoey’s voice filled Addison Rugers’ ear as she bolted up from the rickety cot and cursed as pain swept up her side and along her back. The com she’d worn nonstop for the past two weeks remained silent while she focused on her surroundings.

Early morning offered rare quiet within the apartment building. Even though the location provided unrestricted surveillance of Yesim’s crew, it also came with paper-thin walls, shoddy plumbing, and mouse-sized rooms that made the apartment more of a cell.

The apartment offered a perfect view into the only known location for Yesim’s operation. Until The Arsenal secured the biochemical weapons the bastards had smuggled out of Cuba, this shitty apartment with surround-sound fucking and fighting was her team’s home away from home.

Fun times.

How long had she slept? Minutes? She glanced at her watch. Three hours. I’m awake. Do you know what he wants?

No. His car parked at the drone’s perimeter and he got out, Zoey replied on the com. Want me to dart him?

More than anything. Addy stood and dragged on the short black skirt she’d taken off a few hours ago. She bypassed the deep blue corset and retrieved her gun from the bedside table. Combat boots didn’t exactly go with Iriana Duprinsky’s look, but the mercenary persona wasn’t exactly known for giving a damn what people thought.

Light poured in from the hallway when the door opened. Beast loomed in the doorway. He cracked his knuckles as she squeezed by him and tromped down the narrow corridor leading to the living room where Shep and Johnny both watched from the sofa. Cracker and Thunder were asleep in the second bedroom. Sleeping in shifts kept their team ready at any moment, but Addy’s rest breaks only came when Lavrov didn’t need Iriana.

Loud moans sounded as the wall behind the sofa thumped in a steady rhythm. Addy glanced down at the stopwatch that’d become her team’s pastime the past couple of weeks. You aren’t timing him.

Sixty-second man can wait. What’s Lavrov doing here? Shep asked. He leaned his lean, muscular frame back on the sofa and rested his long legs on the small coffee table. Curiosity glinted within the man’s pale green gaze as he pulled his unruly, dark blond hair from his face.

Good question. Kristof Lavrov was a pain in her ass in more ways than one, but for the sake of her team and everyone else at The Arsenal, Addy tolerated his existence. It wasn’t the first time he’d proven useful over the years.

I’ll cover the roof, Johnny said as he popped up from the sofa, bouncing from one foot to another like a prized fighter about to enter a bout.

She glanced at the discarded Red Bull cans on the floor and wondered if he’d bothered sleeping. Dark circles darkened the light mocha skin beneath his coal black eyes. Black jeans and a black T-shirt completed the goth vibe the lanky sniper wore like a second skin.

No. His BMW drew enough attention pulling up. We can’t risk anyone from Yesim’s crew actually paying attention and spotting you. Addy met her sniper’s gaze. His eyebrows lifted. Not that you’d be that sloppy.

The man didn’t reply. He twirled the skull ring