The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(23)

She glanced over at the bed. Nikos was still there. More footsteps. A large shadow loomed over her brother. She blinked, wondering if she was imagining the monster.

The figure clamped a cloth over Nikos’s mouth and nose. Her brother bolted upright, but strong arms held him in place. She opened her lips, wanting to scream, but no sound came out. She remained breathless, frozen.

Nikos kicked and squirmed but he was no match for the dark figure. A soft, mewling sound escaped her brother’s lips, barely above a whisper. The monster clamped down harder on the cloth covering Nikos’s mouth and nose, silencing him.

Was this a bad dream? Wake up, wake up.

Nikos stared at her, his eyes bulging, desperate, pleading. His limbs flailed, lashed out against the man, but it made no difference. She ached to help, but fear immobilized her. Her heart jackhammered inside her chest.

Seconds later, her brother slumped like a rag doll. The monster tossed Nikos’s limp body over his shoulder and stepped through the open window, disappearing into the night.

Her entire body shook. A warm wetness soaked her pajama bottoms. . . .

Thea jolted at the knock on the bathroom door. She shook off the horrible memory and forced herself back to the present. The water that flowed over her body was now cold. Goose bumps covered her skin.

“You okay in there?” Rif asked.

She tried to steady herself. “Fine. Out in a minute.”

Twenty years ago, she’d been powerless to help her brother, but she was no longer that frightened child. Her father needed her, and she’d be there for him. She turned off the faucet, grabbed a thick white towel, and dried herself off.

Back in her room, a quick blood sugar check told her she was a little low. She slipped into jeans and a black T-shirt, munched on an apple, and cuddled on the couch with Aegis while she scanned her e-mail, hoping for a lead. Her inbox held nothing new.

After drying her hair, she knocked on the adjoining door to Hakan’s suite.

“Come in.” Father and son sat huddled over a laptop. Aegis trundled across to them and plopped down, rolling on top of their feet. Rif scratched the ridgeback’s belly. The dog always deserted her when the former soldier was around. Traitor.

“You okay?” Hakan sipped his coffee.

She glanced at the photo on the screen. Her dead attacker. “Better than him. I’ve been thinking. If they wanted to kill us, it would have been cleaner to send a team armed with silenced handguns. The crowbar, the chain . . . it felt like more like they wanted to deliver a good beating—but then it went wrong.”

“Excellent point. Maybe a warning from the kidnapper to back off? I ran the photo Rif snapped through our facial recognition software. Meet Illy Natasha. Russian hood for hire, former FSB agent, fired for unknown reasons—but you could guess. Has an arrest record for assault and battery, rape, and—here’s the kicker—illegally exporting ivory from Kanzi.”

So her father’s disappearance could be linked to the deal in Africa. “Any updates on Henri?”

“Not really. When I originally did his background check, five years were unaccounted for. Henri admitted that he’d dodged a manslaughter charge in Italy by escaping into the French Foreign Legion. I recommended against hiring him, but Christos decided he couldn’t live without Henri’s pain au chocolat.”

“Could Henri be involved? He seemed so devoted to Papa.” She pressed the home button on her father’s phone. No more texts.

“Either he’s complicit, or he’s a hostage.”

Rif stood, Aegis jumping up to join him. “These Latin messages, are they a stall tactic?”

“Maybe, or maybe we just don’t understand the implications yet,” she said. “Who has the most to gain by taking Papa right before the Kanzi deal? If Christos doesn’t show up for the summit in Zimbabwe, what happens? Will the negotiations be canceled? Does another company usurp the place of Paris Industries? Or would the Chinese win the rights by default? Peter would know. . . .”

“If that bastard’s involved, he’s going to pay.” Rif’s hands clenched into fists. “I placed a bug inside his phone to monitor his calls.”

Hakan looked at her with concern. “You’re pale. Sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

“I’m good, just worried about Papa. He . . . he doesn’t take orders well.” She turned toward the fireplace to hide the pain in her eyes.





Chapter Fourteen



Rif finished his final set of one-arm push-ups on the floor of Thea’s hotel room while fending off the affections of Aegis, who kept nudging him. Exercise helped him sift through the facts and figure out what mattered. The Latin texts bothered him. The provocative behavior felt personal. He didn’t dare suggest it to Thea, but he wouldn’t put it past Nikos to orchestrate something like this.

After a long night of drinking a few years back, his godfather had confided in him that after Nikos had returned home from captivity, his behavior had become erratic and explosive. Christos had felt ill-equipped to deal with his son and tried to get him help. Nothing worked. According to Christos, the shrink had seemed ambivalent about his son’s chances of repairing the damage he’d suffered. Meanwhile, he’d warned Christos to expect further outbursts of violent anger as Nikos tried to heal.

Still, no matter how badly her brother acted, Thea couldn’t see the monster inside. Even when he blew up at family gatherings, even the time he had stormed off for hours on Christmas several years ago, she never seemed to change her opinion of him. In her mind, Nikos remained the twelve-year-old boy who had protected her as a child and paid for it dearly. Survivor’s guilt. Nikos’s presence was a constant reminder of what could have been her fate. From his own experiences, Rif could empathize.