She wasn’t, as she’d told him haltingly one night when he’d asked, but it didn’t really matter because he would market her as a virgin anyway. There were ways to ensure the end buyer believed he’d gotten what he’d purchased.
He should not have lost his temper with her when she’d come to tell him she wanted to stop seeing him for a while. Had he not done that, she would have never run away. And she would not have taken his flash drive.
The mere thought of the theft twisted his gut into knots. It was not the only flash drive with the information stored on it—he’d lost access to nothing—but it still contained critical intelligence. Things he would not want anyone else to know.
It was encrypted, of course. But someone with skill could break it eventually. That was always the way of it. He knew because Zoprava funded a network of hackers in Russia, presumably to test the limits of his software but really to steal credit card numbers and other personal information from people around the world. They then packaged and sold that data to third parties who exploited it for gain. Of which he got a cut, naturally.
If someone like one of his hackers got ahold of the drive, they’d decrypt it in hours. He could not afford to take the chance.
Therefore, he needed Sophie back—and he needed that drive. Once it was secure, he would put her on a plane and send her to his private auction in Monte Carlo where she would be sold to some fat billionaire who would take her home and use her for his pleasure until he was tired of her. Then she would either be put into a brothel or killed. It mattered not to him.
His phone rang again and he answered, hoping it was news to put him in a better mood.
“She visited a shipping facility before she boarded the train.” It was Sergei’s voice. “There was a security camera.”
“And?”
“She mailed a package and she paid with a credit card. We don’t know where she sent the package yet, but Evgeny is trying to hack into the system. As soon as he does, we’ll have an address.”
Had she mailed the flash drive? Or something else? Whatever it was, he couldn’t afford to ignore this piece of information. She’d run from his office, stopped to mail a package, and boarded a train. Odds were good the package was something he wanted.
“How long will this take?”
“Evgeny says the network security is good. It will take some time to break through. A day, no more. He will call me when it is done.”
Grigori swore in both Russian and English. “As soon as you know, you will call me. I do not care what time it is.”
“Of course, Grigori.”
“Where are you now?”
“We’ve just landed in Baltimore at BWI.”
“Find her, Sergei.”
“I will.”
THE SAFE HOUSE was located in a small town on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. It wasn’t Waterman’s Cove, where Hawk lived with his wife Gina, but it wasn’t too far from there either. Tucked on a side street, the house was a small cottage in the older part of town. The street was lined with similar homes—small boxy houses with brick or wooden siding, cars in the yards, chain-link or wooden fences, barking dogs, and the glow of a cigarette coming from a porch or two even though it was late.
Hawk pulled around to the side of the house where there was a carport and a door leading inside. He put the vehicle in park and turned to look at Chase. “I’m sorry I can’t take this off your hands, but I just don’t have the manpower yet.”
“I get it, brother. Thanks for helping us this far.”
Hawk nodded. “The house is clear. One of my guys checked it out before we arrived, and everything is set. I’ll be back in the morning—with a passport for her,” he added, jerking his chin toward the backseat where Sophie appeared to be sound asleep. “I’ll need one of yours to make them match.”
Chase’s gut twisted. “Match how?”
He knew it made sense to pair them up, and he knew what the most likely version was. Shit, he didn’t even want to take Sophie with him, but there was no other way. There was no one to protect her while he was gone. It was too dangerous to leave her alone in a safe house, and far too dangerous to have Hawk take her home and stash her in his house with Gina and their kids.
Hawk merely looked at him. “You know how. It’ll go much easier if you play a married couple on your way to Paris for a romantic honeymoon.”
Jesus.
“Right. Shit.”
Hawk thumped him on the shoulder. “Come on, you’ve had to do worse for the job. Besides, the two of you will figure it out.”
“Yeah, we’ll figure it out.” Chase rummaged in his bag, fished out a passport—he had several, as they all did—and handed it to Hawk. “You think Mendez will have a shit fit?”