Jude froze. First steps were a bitch, but if he was going to do this, he had to let her go. He transferred her to King’s hold and walked into the house. They had set a tarp on the floor of the living room. There was a huge hole in the ceiling, and once the clouds had cleared from the rain earlier, the moon shone through, giving them enough light so they didn’t have to set anything up.
The original structure had been built well over a hundred years ago, and time and Russia’s climate had taken over. Weathered walls and floors, furniture moldy and falling apart—the place had an ancient, broken feel. It probably wouldn’t last much longer, but it was perfect for their purpose. There were ghosts in this house, and even more now with Ella’s presence.
King placed her in a chair in the middle of the tarp. He blindfolded her—Jude thought for effect. She’d have to rely on her other senses, and when a body was stressed, those senses could lie. Ella had been a wonderful CIA analyst, but like Rook’s Vivi, she hadn’t exactly been a dyed-in-the-wool soldier.
Rook wound long lengths of rope around Ella’s torso and each leg, strapping her in place. She could move—Jude was sure Rook hadn’t tied her tight enough to cut off circulation—but she couldn’t escape. Rook was a master of knots. Jude steeled himself to remain impassive. Those ropes represented so much.
They told of failure and betrayal. Love and lies.
“She’ll wake soon. We didn’t give her enough to keep her out for very long,” King murmured as he walked to the other side of the room and leaned against a doorjamb, facing Ella.
Rook moved to the opposite side, taking up much the same position. Jude moved to behind her and waited.
The air felt charged moments later, and Jude knew she was awake. He tamped down his body’s response to her by force of will alone. His pain at her betrayal helped him.
Silence reigned. She’d obviously decided she’d let this play out. King took a step toward her, and she straightened in her seat.
What was she feeling? Trapped? Did she know the fear Jude had felt when he’d thought her dead? Why did it bother him that she might understand that?
King walked until he was standing beside her. Ella’s chin notched in the air.
“Just say something,” she demanded roughly. Her voice was strained and gravelly.
Jude found himself wanting to give her a sip from his canteen. He fisted his hands and crossed his arms over his chest, holding himself back.
“What are you doing in Russia, Ella?” King asked in a bored voice.
“Oh, you know, touristy things. I’ve never spent much time here, and so…” she said with a small, gruff laugh.
King laughed with her. Then his voice lowered as if Satan himself were speaking through him. “What are you doing in Russia, Ella?”
She cleared her throat. “I told you, I wanted to see Russia.” She coughed, and Jude lowered his arms, almost walking to her, but her words stopped him. “Let’s see, I know you’re here. I’m guessing Dagan and, hmmm, Rook? Yeah, Rook’s here too, isn’t he?” she questioned in a polite tone. Making everyday conversation, huh?
“I’m here, Ella-Bella,” Rook informed her in an easy tone. Rook had a soft spot for women.
“Rook, how’s your wife? You know, I meant to talk to you about that in Beirut a few weeks ago. You have got to control her better. She’s really nosy, and she’s sticking hers in places where it might get lopped off.”
Rook straightened at the underlying warning in Ella’s voice.
She laughed again, the sound ricocheting off the walls of Jude’s heart. “I won’t hurt her, but Dresden is a real bastard, and he does his best to watch every move she makes.” She turned her head so she seemed to peer over her shoulder, and Jude was grateful for the blindfold that kept him from seeing her eyes. “Hey, Dagan, Rook know you’re pumping his wife for information on me?”
“He knows,” Rook said before Jude could reply. The man threw Jude a look that told him to keep his mouth shut. Jude ground his back teeth together.
“Aww, scared of Rook, Dagan? Since when are you scared of anyone?” She seemed to taunt him.
“He won’t bite the bait, Ella,” King said. “Now tell me why you’re in Russia.”
“How about I tell you to kiss my ass, team leader? How about that?” Ella intoned. “If you hadn’t left me to Dresden, none of us would be in this!”
Finally a truth from her. Her words, the pain in her tone, scored Jude. It was the one question he’d not allowed himself to dwell on—had they left her to Dresden? Could they have saved her?
King moved then, sweeping the front legs of the chair with his foot and causing her to fall back. He caught the chair inches from the ground. Ella gasped and then laughed, the sound shrill after the pain of her admission. “Take off the blindfold, King. If you want to talk to me, this isn’t the way. I seem to remember saving your ass in Spain. Oh, and the ass of your woman… I saved that too. Doesn’t that merit at least some civility?”
“The same ass you put in play to begin with.” King grunted but lifted the chair, reaching for the blindfold and removing it. Ella blinked a few times, accustoming herself to the low level of light. Jude moved around to the side of the chair and watched her, arms still crossed, fists still clenched.
“Really, all I did was confirm what Loretta Bernstein had already given Dresden.” She tilted her head. “Can you guys not just leave well enough alone?”
“Not when it involves Dresden. And not, apparently, when it involves you,” Rook said conversationally.
Ella sighed, making sure it was loud and conveyed how put out she felt. “I just want to live
