The Romanov Ransom

28

Tatiana stepped outside the airport doors into the crisp autumn air, took one look at Viktor’s face, and knew there was a problem involving the Fargos.

Taking the suitcase from her, he placed it into the trunk, then opened her car door, closing it for her after she was seated.

“What happened?” she asked once he was behind the wheel.

He checked his mirror, pulled out, before answering. “I won’t bore you with the details other than to say we underestimated the Fargos. They realized they were being followed and managed to lose our tail.”

“The Fargos bested you?” she said, looking over at him in surprise. “What happened to all these highly trained men working for you? Surely you had more than one set of eyes on them?”

“We did. But they were… distracted by the shooting at Königsberg castle.”

“I thought I told you—”

“It wasn’t us.”

“Then who?” she asked.

“No doubt Rolfe or someone from his entourage.”

“He’s here? How?”

“If I had to guess, he flew into Gdańsk, then drove over the Polish border. Had he flown directly into Kaliningrad, we would’ve known.”

If the Fargos were here, it stood to reason that Rolfe would also be here. He had the courier bag, after all. “I should have anticipated.”

Several seconds of silence passed. She glanced over at him, saw his jaw clenching and his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. Clearly, he was blaming himself.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Rolfe? We followed him to a house about thirty minutes’ drive outside of town.”

“And the Fargos?”

“They’ve left Kaliningrad.”

“To where?”

“We’re still working on that.”

She weighed her phone in her hand, thinking about how to salvage this mess. “I have an idea.” She called a number, letting it ring. “Rolfe, darling…”

“Tatiana? To what do I owe the pleasure?” he said, sounding anything but pleased.

“I’ve just arrived in Kaliningrad for business. I understand you’re here as well.”

“How is it you know this?”

“Did you really think that a man of your reputation can just waltz into my territory without anyone noticing?”

There was a slight hesitation on the line, then Rolfe asked, “What is it you want?”

“To meet, of course. I feel we have unfinished business. When is a good time for you?”

“I’m currently busy with—”

“Later this afternoon, then?” she said, not giving him a chance to back out. “It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask. Shall I come to you, or would you like to meet me?” she said, naming a location far enough away from where she was told he was staying so as not to arouse suspicion. “I’m just leaving the airport.”

As expected, he chose to meet her at his location and gave her the address.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” she said.

She and Viktor drove out to the secluded house and were met at the door by Gere, who limped as he led them down a hallway toward a dark-paneled salon. Rolfe was seated in a leather armchair, drinking what she assumed from the gold flakes floating in the clear liquid was Goldwasser vodka.

“Tatiana,” he said, rising.

“Rolfe.” She walked up to him, smelling the strong alcohol on his breath as she let him kiss her on both cheeks.

He glanced at Viktor and, as expected, promptly ignored him. Looking at Tatiana, he waved her toward the matching chair opposite him.

She sat, looking around the room. The heavy, dark wooden furnishings appeared expensive, including the paintings on the wall: bloody battle scenes from the Middle Ages. “Charming,” she said, eyeing the artwork with distaste. “How did you find this place?”

He returned to his chair, picking up his glass. “It belongs to a business associate of mine.”

“You have business associates in Kaliningrad?”

“I have business associates all over Europe.”

“Perhaps you should introduce me to some of them.”

He took a sip of his drink, then set it on the chairside table. “What is it you’re doing here, Tatiana?”

She studied the man for a moment. There was a definite change about him. Normally, he was eager to see her, wanting to foster a relationship that he hoped would tie their two businesses together. That thought always amused her mostly because she was the one who’d planted the idea in his head. Today, though, his eyes held a slight annoyance, and there was a stubborn tilt to his chin.

It galled her that she had to handle it this way, but she had no choice and so she just came out with it. “I’ve come to make a deal. I want in on the Romanov Ransom.”

His brows rose slightly as he picked up his glass, swirling the liquid so that the gold flakes spun about. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You need me.”

“The moment I find out what I want to know, I won’t need anyone.”

“I thought that’s what the contents of the courier bag were supposed to have told you?”

This time, he couldn’t hide his surprise. “How do you know about that?”

“I make it my business. Your man — what was his name?”

“Gere?”

“Not him, the other one.” She glanced over her shoulder at Viktor, who stood stock-still behind her. “What was his name?”

“Durin,” Viktor said.

“Yes. Durin…” She focused on Rolfe. “The courier bag he stole from the plane was supposed to be on its way to me. Had he not been killed, I’d have it now, not you.”

Rolfe stared at her for several seconds, the only reaction was the bulge of a vein beating fast at his temple. He drained his glass, then set it on the table, as a muffled thump came from the room next door.

It sounded to her as though someone had fallen against the wall. “What was that?” she asked, standing.

“Nothing.”

She eyed Rolfe’s telling temple vein pounding away. Before he could object, she walked over to the door and pulled it open, surprised to see the tall, bearded man holding an old man by his throat.

Tatiana, recognizing the aggressor as Leopold Gaudecker, stormed into the room, stepping over a brass-headed cane on the floor, as Leopold raised his hand, about to strike.

“Stop!” she demanded, grabbing Leopold’s arm. “What are you doing?”

Leopold, still holding the old man by the throat, glared at her. “I’d suggest you remove your hand from my arm before I hit you instead.”

“Try it,” she said, whipping out a stiletto, holding it just below his sternum. “Exactly what is going on here?”

He looked down at the point piercing his shirt, then at Rolfe. “Your Russian princess annoys me.”

“Regardless, I’d do what she says,” Rolfe said. “I’ve heard assassination is one of her specialties.”

She pressed the point farther, drawing blood. “Let him go.”

Leopold stepped away, both hands raised. “You’re crazy.”

“So they say.” She waited until Viktor entered the room before closing and putting away her knife in its hidden sheath. When he positioned himself between her and Leopold, she rounded on Rolfe. “You have no idea what you’re involving yourself with by bringing that man here.”

“The groundskeeper? You know him?”

She wasn’t about to admit that she had no clue as to who he was. “You forget what country you’re in. I make it my business to know. Why is he here?”

“He knows where the Fargos are.”

“Does he?” She looked at the old man with renewed interest. “And you think beating him is going to work? As old as he is, you’re likely to kill him first.”

“You have a better way?” Leopold asked. “By all means. Show us how it’s done.”

“Clear the room,” she said, “and I’ll be glad to.”

No one moved.

She leveled her gaze on Rolfe. “I’m sorry. Was my German a little rusty?”

He studied her a moment, then gave a sharp nod to Leopold. “Go,” he said.

The man stalked out, not happy about taking orders from her.

Rolfe hesitated.

“You, too.” She walked up to him, putting her hand on his arm, guiding him from the room.

“Just curious how you plan on getting this information.”

“We have our ways,” she said, then turned to Viktor. “You know what to do.”

He gave a slight nod.

She glanced at the old man, his eyes widening in fright as Viktor approached. Closing the door, she returned to her seat. Leopold stood, arms crossed, glaring at her. Ignoring him, she turned to Rolfe, who was pouring himself another drink. “It shouldn’t take long,” she said.

Five minutes later, Viktor opened the door. The old man sat in a chair, his gaze on the ground. Viktor walked up to Tatiana and whispered the information in her ear.

“Thank you,” she told him, then to Rolfe said, “I now know where the Fargos are.”

Leopold eyed the old man through the open door. “How?”

Tatiana took her time, pleased to see that Rolfe’s gaze was fixed only on her. “Here in Kaliningrad, it’s easy to forget you’re in Russia. But being Russian, we know it’s not the beating or killing that buys cooperation. It’s the threat of what can be done to their family once they’re no longer around.” She glanced at Leopold, who quickly looked away. Apparently, he was sore at being bested. She turned her attention back to Rolfe. “I have contacts everywhere, including the police and the government.”

“Impressive,” Rolfe said.

“As I mentioned, Rolfe, you need me.”

“For now.”

“Perhaps I should clarify. You need me if you want to do business in my country. Ever.” When he said nothing in response, she knew she’d won the immediate battle and nodded for Viktor to remove the man from the room. “Should there be any more information to be had, we’ll find out and let you know. Assuming we have a deal?”

Rolfe watched as Viktor led the old man toward the front door. “What did you learn?” he asked after they were gone.

“As I said, I know where the Fargos are.” She waited a beat to let that settle in. “That is what you were trying to discover, was it not? Of course I must assume you know that the Fargos are also searching for this treasure. They have a map in their possession with a specific location marked on it. In Poland.”

“Poland?” He eyed the vodka in his glass, mulling it over. “Forty percent.”

“Half or I find the Fargos and the map on my own.”

“You forget that you don’t have the Guard working alongside you. Considering that Russia no longer controls Poland, the advantage is mine.”

“Guard?”

“Perhaps you know them by their older name. Werwolf. Leopold’s men are as bloodthirsty as their title implies.”

Trying to hide her surprise, she flicked her gaze toward Leopold, then back at Rolfe. “And what makes them special?”

“The Guard,” Leopold said, his cold blue eyes staring at her as though he’d be glad to rip out her throat right there, “have men in every country in Europe. You tell me where in Poland and I will have twenty men ready at a moment’s notice waiting for the Fargos before they even arrive.”

She studied the bearded man before returning her gaze to Rolfe. “Fine. Forty percent. But I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t trust me?” Rolfe asked.

“I expect the feeling is mutual. Like you, I’ve been searching for this for too long. I’m not about to let it slip away.” She made a point of looking at her watch. “It’s late. I have a few business matters that can’t wait.”

“You can’t leave,” Rolfe said, following her to the door. “You haven’t told me where in Poland the Fargos are headed.”

She wasn’t about to pass on that information, yet. “Since Leopold said he only needed a moment’s notice, I insist on waiting until we’re ready to leave. I’m sure you understand. That whole trust issue. Shall we meet back here in, say, two hours?”

He reluctantly agreed, and she left. Outside, she found Viktor waiting, the engine running. “Where’s the old man?”

“In the trunk.”

“Any problems?”

“Turns out, he was far more cooperative than I could have hoped for. What happened after I left?”

“I’m in for forty percent.”

“Forty?”

“I wasn’t in a position to bargain. How can I, when I know nothing about this Wolf Guard? Werwolf. Did you know they still existed?”

“I’d heard rumors of them in Germany, and even Poland. But not in Russia.”

“Well, Leopold, obviously, runs them. He came from somewhere.” She glanced at the house as they pulled away and saw the very man in question watching from a window. “I want to know everything there is about this Leopold Gaudecker and his group. He claims given any location, he can send men to find the Fargos with very little notice.”