He moved to stand in front of the TV to command their attention. “I’m not here to talk about the news. I want to talk about Kira. Aren’t you even a little concerned about her?”
Reuben’s face shuttered. “She dumped you and went home.”
“No, she didn’t.” He faced Luka. The man probably didn’t give a damn about Kira, but his interest in talking to her had been real. He was the one who’d lured her here. “Kira is still in Malta, but Reuben doesn’t want you to talk to her. You might want to ask him why.” He gave it another beat and said, “And you might want a food taster, because you’re getting yellower by the minute.”
His words caused both men to turn red, but in Luka’s case, it was really a shade of orange.
“Leave, Fallon,” Reuben said.
Rand merely grinned. “Last chance to come clean, big brother.”
Reuben’s brow furrowed but he said nothing. Even though the camera was recording, Rand raised his right hand as though plucking a thread from his shirt and pointed the ring at Reuben. He snapped a bunch of pictures as Kira and her entourage of bodyguards in casual beach attire entered the room.
Reuben’s face went from smug to shock in the space of a heartbeat.
Kira was a glorious Valkyrie, entering battle. “I’m here to collect my pendant, Reuben.” She then faced Luka. “And I want my mother’s paintings.”
She’d known the demands would be fruitless. Reuben couldn’t return the pendant without admitting to their father that he’d abducted her and dumped her in a crypt. And Luka’s one string he had to pull was the paintings.
Still, they’d gotten what they wanted from the meeting, even if she hadn’t walked away with the necklace and paintings.
Life was precious. Rand was precious. She didn’t need a necklace to feel close to her mom. The hardest part was walking away without even seeing her mother’s paintings.
She knew that once she crossed the threshold, she’d never have another opportunity to see them. But it had been important to leave before the sun was fully risen in Virginia. Before Reuben knew how badly he’d been had.
They were deep in Laskin’s computer and phone network now, thanks to Rand’s work on Monday. They had threads of the conspiracy, and one conspirator. But Laskin wouldn’t be easy to snare. Not unless Maxim talked.
Without Maxim, they wouldn’t have anything to legally connect him to the attack on the base. It was Reuben who sent Benny after Kira. It was Reuben who declared he’d make a fine president of Russia just days after one failed coup and right before he launched an attack intended to put him in the seat of power.
And it was Reuben who, right before Kira had rattled his confidence by walking into his home theater, had called Laskin and demanded his support for a ministry position now that he’d pulled off the successful terrorist attack on two Navy SEAL bases.
As soon as the sun rose and Atlantic winds wiped away the clouds, Reuben would be toast, and Luka would go down with him.
Two hours later, Kira, Rand, and the Fire Team were back on the boat when Reuben made a frantic call to Grigory, a full 360 from his earlier crowing. They listened along with the teams in Virginia as the would-be usurper demanded to know what Laskin had done to spoil their scheme. The men spoke Russian while a translator provided English for the team.
Laskin’s words sounded cold in both languages. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but my maid confessed that you pushed her to send a message from Aleksandr’s phone to stop your sister from coming to Malta. This resulted in the attack on Little Creek that undermined your own plans for the fourth.”
Even now, Laskin was careful, making no claim on the attack. Did he know it was being recorded, or was he recording it himself?
At least they had Reuben.
“She’s lying to protect Aleksandr. He told me he didn’t want to marry Kira, so he sent Benny in to set her up as a conspirator. Her fingerprints and DNA would have been all over the bombs.”
“Benny? Who is Benny? And what bombs? What are you talking about?”
“This is Aleksandr’s fault. All of it.”
Laskin hung up without another word.
Later that afternoon, Kira, Rand, and the SEALs boarded a US military helicopter and flew to Sigonella, where Kira and Rand would catch a Navy transport flight to Norfolk while the Fire Team would catch a flight that would return them to their platoon in Rota, Spain.
The stopover at Sigonella was brief. In minutes she’d said goodbye to the SEALs and was boarding the jet with Rand. They were the only passengers for the long flight home. In Norfolk, she and Rand would be met by Navy officials, DIA, CIA, and FBI investigators, Homeland Security, and pretty much every other alphabet soup agency charged with protecting American soil and the US military.
Her part in the Malta affair was done.
She leaned against Rand as the jet took off, her mind swirling. This trip had begun with such hope and excitement when she first got her passport. She hadn’t known the seeds of excitement were being planted by a fake cousin, or that she was being lured by a father she didn’t know.
Her heart ached as she thought of her last words to Reuben before she left. “I’m glad I got to remember you, but sorry I got to know you. Still, I will always grieve the boy you once were.”
She had no words to offer Luka. She had no doubt he’d paid someone to poison Conrad, causing the stroke that hospitalized him and, when that failed, poisoned him a second time, killing him. It was probably then that the killer had stolen her portrait. Plus, she had those memories of fear that confirmed her belief that her mother would never have left and abandoned her son if the danger hadn’t been dire.
She closed her eyes as she held Rand’s hand and they flew over the Mediterranean Sea. She’d been in Malta for seven days. Just half the time she’d originally planned.
But in that time, they’d uncovered a conspiracy in time to stop it. And Rand had saved her. Again.
She hadn’t recovered a single piece of art stolen by Nazis—although she had identified several pieces in Luka’s and Grigory’s possession—but she had learned far more than she wanted to know about her parents.
She’d gained and lost a brother in that time.
And she’d fallen in love. That was the one part of her trip to Malta that would stay with her forever. The only souvenir she was taking home.
Chapter Sixty-Five
