Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(74)

He stared down at her. “You’re really going to take a shower? I expected a fight.”

She shook her head. “Nope. You take care of douche-nozzle assassins and I’ll make myself pretty.” She sobered a bit. “I trust you, Ian. I made a mistake the first time, but I’m not making it again. I love you. I’m handing this problem over to you. Please fix it for me.”

God, she couldn’t know what that did to him. It made him want to wrap her up and never let the world f*cking touch her again. It made him want to stand between her and anything that came her way. “I will, baby.”

She walked away and after a moment, he heard the shower turn on.

“Hey, I’ve got the f*cker in the interrogation room.” Li frowned. “What are you going to do, mate? Are you going to threaten him with your dick? You should put that thing away. You’re going to scare me with it.”

He flipped Liam off and went to grab his pants.




Ten minutes later, he stared at Yuri Zhukov, who looked a little worse for wear. “What did you do to him? Or was his nose always three inches from the middle of his face?”

Li smiled. “Nah, that was Karina. He got a little handsy with her, and she put him in his place. She’s a crazy bitch. I like her. I think she cheats at cards, though. And she broke a nail. She says that will cost you extra.”

Great. Now he was paying for mani-pedis. He glanced at the mirror to the side. Alex and Eve were behind that mirror, watching everything that happened. Eve would be profiling the man, talking to Liam through a Bluetooth device. “Did he say anything in the car?”

“Beyond ‘please don’t lock me in the trunk’ and ‘don’t kill me’? Some stuff in Russian, but the great news is I don’t speak a lick of it. It’s so much easier to kidnap people when you don’t speak their language. All the crying becomes background noise.”

Liam was talking out his ass, trying to get a rise out of the Russian. That much Ian got because the man he was describing was not the man sitting in the interrogation room. Zhukov was deadly silent, his face a mask of darkness.

And he damn straight spoke English. Everyone in the syndicate did. Of course, the good news was, Ian spoke Russian.

“Dobroye utro,” It was Russian for “good morning.”

A black brow rose above the assassin’s eyes. “Ah, someone who has brain in head. You must be Taggart. My boss send his regards.”

His boss had sent a couple of bullets his way, but at least they weren’t going to have to conduct the interview in Russian. “So, you’re going to drop the tough-guy act?”

“This is no act. I have been with syndicate for twenty years. Now I am dead man.”

Because the syndicate didn’t forgive and forget. Even if Zhukov managed to get away, they would assume he had been disloyal and kill him themselves. “The Agency will keep you safe from the syndicate for as long as you’re willing to talk to them.”

“Yes, I am sure their hospitality will be wonderful. I have heard so many good things from our Middle Eastern friends.”

Oh, the Agency was going to want to know about those friends. But Ian wanted to know about other friends.

He took out a picture of Eli Nelson. It was from the year before, but it was all he had. Nelson had been careful since London. “Let’s have a talk. As long as you’re truthful, I think you’ll like my hospitality.” It went without saying that if he didn’t, the opposite could be true. “Is your boss involved with this man?”

“My boss is involved with many such interesting people. He is businessman.”

“He is criminal.” Ian pointed to the picture. It wouldn’t do to give up that he was going to take out Denisovitch as well. “But my people don’t tend to mess with your people. We leave that to cops. I’m interested in this man.”

He studied the photo for a moment. “I know of this man. He works for a group that my boss is interested in.”

“A group?” Now that was new information.

Zhukov laughed a little. “Ah, then the great Taggart does not know everything. I rather thought this was truth. You have been out of game for too long. But then again, I am merely, how do you say? I am worker bee. I probably know nothing.”

Ian stared at the man.

Liam leaned over, whispering in his ear. “Eve says he’s ready to deal. Something about body language and being in control. I don’t know what she’s talking about. I think he just looks like an *.”

“Pass me the bottle.” If the Russian was ready to deal, Ian was ready to be more hospitable.

Liam passed him a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses.

The Russian’s eyes widened. “You are not barbarian after all.”

Ian poured out two nice-sized shots. One didn’t drink alone in Russia. “Of course not.”

Zhukov looked at the vodka. His hands were still tied in front of his body, but Ian was sure he was smart enough to know that he wasn’t going to get untied. No, he was waiting for the second reason Ian was drinking this morning. To prove he wasn’t trying to kill the f*cker.

Ian picked up his shot glass. A toast was the way to start any important negotiation. “To your continued health.”

Because if he didn’t have something good, his health was in danger.