Cold Bastard (Dark Sparrow Novel Book 2) Page 14

  The second venue, with Anton Vasiliev this time, was at his hotel, The Langham. Somehow, Zoe thought it suited Vasiliev’s over-the-top personality. On the other hand, it meant that Finch would be present. A lot relied on her ability to stay in control of her emotions. If she showed any weakness to that monster, Zoe feared what would happen. Maybe it was the reason why she chose a dark burgundy power suit with a buttoned-up black blouse and matching pumps.

  Another chauffeur picked her up, one she didn’t know, but a quick call from Lance confirmed his presence and it reassured her. When he dropped her off at The Langham, Lance was waiting for her on the sidewalk. As instructed by Ellen, she was to be by Archer’s side this time, as it was only a meeting with the four of them.

  Zoe wondered why Ellen wasn’t there After all, she was much more knowledgeable about the process. As they entered the elevator, she couldn’t help but ask the question.

  Lance shrugged. “From what I learned this morning, Ellen was under the weather, as the Brits say. Archer requested you attend and take notes.”

  Zoe nodded and drew a steadying breath as they reached their floor. Vasiliev had organized the meeting room this time, and that was probably one of the reasons they hadn’t planned for a side booth for her. Archer being a control freak, he would have obviously requested her presence, if Vasiliev started using Russian for any reason.

  Lance led her to the end of the corridor and knocked on the door. Anton Vasiliev opened the door himself, an immense smile on his face. “Miss Somersby! Such a sight! How beautiful!”

  He took her hands and kissed each of them. His exuberance was amusing. “You’re too kind, Mr. Vasiliev.”

  The older man beamed at her and hooked her arm with his, leading her in. The room was vast, opening onto a living room. There was a vast terrace beyond huge windows. The room was luxurious, all in pale cream with gold and mahogany accents. The carpets felt plush and the whole area, although posh, had a very comfortable ambiance. The furniture had obviously been rearranged to create a more relaxed meeting corner.

  “Would you like something to drink, Miss Somersby? Tea, coffee? Something stronger?”

  “Tea would be lovely. Thank you.”

  Vasiliev went to a small area where a cart had been brought in. On it, there were several thermos pots, and plates with pastries and sandwiches. He poured the tea himself and handed a delicate cup and saucer to her.

  Surprisingly, Vasiliev took one too, and invited her to follow him to the terrace. The sun was high and warm, with a soft wind blowing over the city. The view was magnificent, and despite everything that was happening, Zoe was feeling more and more comfortable with Chicago.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Zoe took a sip before answering. “Yes. I’ve traveled the world and it’s my first time in this city. I think what makes it so appealing is the energy. It’s a vibrant city.”

  “Da, you’re right. But the people are fascinating too.”

  The look he gave her was full of mischief and Zoe giggled. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Vasiliev.”

  The man smiled. “My wife wouldn’t be happy with me if I did. Don’t worry about your virtue, I would never cross a man like Archer Blackwood. To be honest, I fear my lovely Maria much more than I do your boss. Believe me.”

  Zoe opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. At her reaction, Vasiliev chuckled. “I’ve traded with Blackwood several times before and it’s the first time he’s had any reaction to anybody for that matter. I noticed it when you came out of the conference room, escorted by Jamieson. There was no doubt at that moment that you have more power over him than I realized Jamieson is courageous or more of a fool than I thought.”

  At his name, Zoe couldn’t help but dig a little deeper. In her mind, any information may give her the key to her freedom. “That means that Mr. Finch is not a long-time partner of yours.”

  The Russian shook his head. “No, for this venture only.”

  “Well, I guess you would need all the help you can get to win this negotiation with Mr. Blackwood. Nobody can have too much oil and gas.”

  Vasiliev laughed. “Well, I don’t know yet. This would be my first oil operation. When I win this bid, of course.”

  “Of course.” It was hard not to admire his confidence.

  “Jamieson Finch is a renowned businessman with a flair for opportunities. It wasn’t difficult to convince me to bid. It’s a bonus that he agreed to be my advisor in this venture.”

  “Mr. Vasiliev...”

  “Please, call me Anton. In this beautiful day, it would be a shame being so formal.”

  Charming man. “Well, in that case, call me Zoe. But only when we are alone on this terrace.” She winked at him, and she could swear, the Russian blushed a little. “Anton... if you don’t mind me asking, if oil is not your first field of activity, if we can say that, what is it?”

  “Telecommunications mostly. I am diversifying, as you know the economy cannot be trusted. It changes like the wind. I have many friends in the government and they are saying the same thing.”

  Zoe almost told him that oil and gas were obviously declining, but it wasn’t her money she was investing. And his admission about having connections with the government confirmed that Finch was probably interested in his contacts, much like with Ahmad.

  “My dear Zoe, I think our peace and quiet is about to be invaded.”

  She followed his gaze and saw Archer and Finch entering the room. Both men looked at her directly, but obviously with different intents. With one last smile at Vasiliev, she put her cup on the terrace table and returned inside. Vasiliev’s enthusiasm returned as he greeted the men. After a quick handshake with Finch, he turned to Archer. Finch took the opportunity to offer Zoe his hand which she couldn’t refuse. His grip was hard and unyielding, pulling her toward him against her will. His grin turned harsh, his hold now almost bruising. When he leaned toward her ear, she flinched.

  “A great pleasure to see you again, Zoe. Are you ready for your next assignment?”

  Still pulling her in, Zoe put her free hand on his chest, trying to push him off.

  “Zoe?” Archer’s voice sounded like a whip and immediately Finch opened his hand so suddenly Zoe almost stumbled back. When he turned to Archer, Finch had schooled his face once more. Archer looked between the two of them, his face dispassionate, analyzing what just happened.

  “Can we begin?”

  Finch followed Vasiliev toward the seating area, and Zoe had trouble breaking eye contact with Finch as dread settled once again in her gut. It was Archer’s warm hand on her hip that brought her back to reality. Swallowing hard, she looked up at him and saw questions and concern but couldn’t find any possible way to address them. It wasn’t important. Without another word, she went to sit on the deep chair facing Finch, Archer sitting beside her.

  Zoe grabbed her notepad and nodded at Archer that she was ready.

  Again, the entire conversation was very technical. Part of Zoe’s brain remained on the conversation, the other was acutely aware of Finch looking at her. Minutes trickled by, with Archer and Vasiliev talking about mergers, employee transfers, bonds and permits, and numbers. Tons of numbers, strings and mountains of numbers.

  Archer passed her papers, asking for annotations. He kept her busy and she was secretly grateful for it, wanting to avoid worrying what Finch had in store for her. Each time she inhaled, she thought about Lucas, each time she exhaled, she envisioned breathing fire onto Finch, turning him into ash.

  The two other men seemed oblivious to what was going on. Blessed ignorance, Zoe thought. As Archer and Vasiliev were debating some foreign property law and decided to make a call to their respective attorneys for questions, both men went to the side conference table where the phone was. As soon as the call went through on the speakerphone, Finch came to sit beside her. He took her hand and squeezed hard.

  “Behave, my dear.”

  Zoe’s answer whistled through clenched teeth. “If
you want me to behave, you better let go of my hand.”

  Anger oozed from her and it must have convinced the devil man that she wasn’t playing. Slowly, he released her hand, but the smile stayed in place. Instead of hanging onto her fear, she decided to attack. “What now? Hack a phone again?”

  “Oh, no my dear. Never would I waste your talent. On the contrary, I’m gonna up the ante a little. I need you to retrieve a Flash drive from Anton’s suite. He always travels with his personal security vault. Not numbers, not letters, not even Cyrillic, but symbols. They’re supposed to represent a word.”

  Zoe looked at Archer, who was deep in conversation, searching through a stack of papers. How she wished she could just get up, walk to him and tell him everything. Damn, not even when she was younger and in need of help between the beatings did she experience this despair.

  Undisturbed by her lack of response, Finch continued. “I’ve got the keycard and already I’ve dropped it into your bag. There is a switch of guards in front of his door in two minutes.” His statement shocked her to the bone, making her turn to look at him.

  “Like now? In two minutes from now?”

  “Well now, let’s say one minute thirty seconds. If I were you, I would get going.”

  “Where’s his room?”

  “Top floor. The number is on the card.”

  Like an automated doll, Zoe rose from the sofa and grabbed her bag. She heard Archer call after her, but only said that she would be back in a minute and rapidly closed the door behind her. Lance was at the entrance and as he went to grab her arm, she evaded him. “I’m staying inside the building. I’ll be back in five minutes. Chill out.”

  It was obvious by the way Lance looked at the door and her, he wasn’t happy about it, or maybe it was more her sudden change in character. He was taking out his phone when she arrived at the elevator and pushed the button. Less than thirty seconds later, she was on her way up. There was no way of knowing the exact time and she only prayed that she would at least be able to get inside the room without a problem. At the top floor, the hallway was much larger with fewer rooms. Zoe checked the card and turned right. Walking, she met a man on his way toward her. The suit, the protruding vest, there was one of Anton’s guards, no doubt. She smiled at him and he winked at her. Well, at least she didn’t appear to be a suspect. Turning around herself to see if anybody was around, she almost dashed to the door. Seizing her chance, she swiped the card and got in, as soon as the light turned green.

  Anton Vasiliev’s suite was vast with windows offering an ample view of the city as it was on the opposite side of the building. With much darker woods than in the meeting room, it appeared more masculine in a way. Now, she hunched her bag across her shoulders and started her search. Zoe had no idea what exactly she was searching for. Trying to get her breathing under control, she started opening the drawers, one by one, careful to move clothing items as little as possible. Searching through the bathroom, she did the same. She checked under the bed, in the closet, nothing. Panic was trying to get the best of her, but having a clear mind was primordial. Zoe visualized the room once more, trying to see where she hadn’t checked until something clicked. The suitcases.

  Back in the walk-in closet, she went to check them out. And there it was. A little case made of titanium. With her treasure in hand, Zoe was about to go into the room, when she heard the door. Someone was coming in! There was no way she could get the case out of here!

  “Mister Vasiliev? This is room service. Are you there?”

  A female voice.

  “I’ve got the extra towels you requested, and I will redo the bathroom. Are you there?”

  Zoe’s heart wanted to leap out of her throat. Bile rose as she heard steps inside the room. They seemed to remain the farthest away from the closet, but there was a risk someone could come in any way. Time was running out. Silently moving a suitcase, she put the box on it and analyzed the lock. Pressing the side button, six blue squares blinked to life and, after a while, dimmed off, emitting a softer glow, apparently in stand-by mode.

  Clicking on the squares, various symbols appeared. Six different symbols in each square to choose from. Six squares time six different symbols in each, the combinations were high. She needed a clue, something that could give her an indication, a hint. Each symbol was slightly bigger than the previous one, an indication of their order.

  The housemaid was singing in the background, which at least gave Zoe an indication of where she was. After checking each symbol once more, she realized that two symbols were repeated, one in squares two and six. If it was a word, it meant that it was the same letter used both times in it. It was obvious the coder wouldn’t have put two identical ones otherwise. But what was the word?

  Closing her eyes, she tried to remember everything that had been said about Anton Vasiliev or found in his file that Ellen had provided. So many details, so many names. His corporations, the names of his associates, his connections, his friends, his enemies, his family. Her brain was acting as a computer, placing the names in front of those six squares and none of them worked. Of all the options, the only name with two letters in similar positions was the name of his wife Maria. But she only had five letters, not six. Damn it!

  Impossible to get the thread, the one in her mind that would unlock the code, and time was slipping through her fingers. She needed to get out fast, with the key. Zoe ignored her shaking hands, and instead tried to think like Anton Vasiliev. He was a Russian and had probably thought the code in his native language with its own unique alphabet. In front of her eyes, she redid the same exercise of placing every name in front of the squares, but this time using the Cyrillic alphabet. Again, it was a failure. Not abandoning hope, she tried in her mind to find a solution.

  The maid made a sound inside the room, and Zoe froze, her eyes still on the squares, but her ears perked up. It was more and more difficult to get her mind to work. If it wasn’t western spelling, nor Cyrillic, it was a random word. In that case, she was screwed, and Lucas was dead.

  Defeated, she looked around the closet, and saw so many suits, it was dizzying. Did Archer own that many? From her point of view, she saw all those famous designers. Anton Vasiliev had the money to indulge in expensive tastes. In that, it reminded her of Udi Al-Aamri, who wore designer suits, more in sync with the western world than Ahmad.

  Western world. The expression ticked something inside her as her eyes reverted to the soft blue squares. The only name she could find, close to fitting the number of square and repeating symbols was the name of his wife. Maria. But that was one way of spelling it. The women in Russia translated it not the Hispanic way, but with a y. Mariya. Six letters. It was like a light was turned on in her brain. Less than five seconds later after testing the symbols, the familiar click of the lock confirmed she had entered the right code. Mariya. A victory cry almost escaped her lips.

  Not wasting a second, she opened the box and saw watches, papers and the Flash drive. She put it in her pocket and locked the box again before sliding it in the suitcase, replacing everything as she had found them. On her knees, Zoe peeked outside, to see the door still open, and a cleaning cart close by. Unsure, where the maid was, she got to her feet and padded to the door. The woman was leaning into her cart, searching for something, and the security guard was nowhere to be seen. As she stepped out of the room, Zoe’s heart thumped when the maid looked at her, gaping in surprise. If she acted uncomfortable or scared, it would be the end of it. Zoe smiled at the maid and winked, straightening her blouse and vest. Immediately, the woman smiled and winked back. It seemed that it wasn’t unusual for Anton Vasiliev to have strange women in his room after all. He wasn’t that afraid of his wife, damn liar.

  Inside the elevator, it took several attempts for her to push the button to the right floor, and when the right light finally came on, she leaned back and grabbed the rail as if it was a lifeline. Reaching her floor, one quick look at the polished metal panel told her that she still looked profession
al, although a little flushed.

  As if nothing had happened, she walked out and went straight to the meeting room. Lance was still there, glaring at her.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Female problems. Satisfied?”

  And again, her tactic worked, as it seemed to be reason enough to leave her alone without asking embarrassing questions. Going back inside, she saw Archer was sitting at the table with Vasiliev. When he saw her coming back in, he stood, took two quick strides and he was on her, voice low and menacing.

  “Where were you?”

  Zoe knew that if she acted out of character, looked scared or anxious, he would be unstoppable. “I needed air. Finch was acting like an ass and I wanted to slap him, which wouldn’t have helped your negotiation with Vasiliev at all.”

  For a moment, Zoe feared she hadn’t been convincing enough. He leaned forward, so close she could feel his body heat. “Don’t put yourself in danger, do you hear me? Steer clear of Finch. You’re mine.”

  And before she could comprehend the words, he kissed her.

  Zoe seriously thought that one of Archer’s kisses was a lethal weapon. It was like a reset in her body, where her fear and her anxiety were consumed by his contact, disappearing completely. And now, there wasn’t any possibility to ask where Finch had gone without raising suspicions. To be honest, in that instant, with the man possessing her lips, his hands all over her, plastered against his hard body, she didn’t care. Nothing mattered, because now she was on fire, as possessed and as powerful as he was. That was the magic of Archer Blackwood.

  When he let her go, the look he gave her was clear. Don’t go out of my sight again. She wasn’t about to contradict him this time. He led her to the living room area, and one look at Vasiliev made her blush like a tomato. Gone was discretion it seemed.

  The men sat again, and the talks continued, but Zoe couldn’t focus on it. She was way too aware of what was in her bag and who it belonged to. Probably one of the reasons why it was difficult to look at Vasiliev without feeling shame. But again, it couldn’t be helped. If a simple key could save her baby brother, she would steal all of them in the world.