“His name is Kazimir Rybakov, not Roman Rostov,” Ian said. “But they could have changed his name. They wouldn’t have wanted Kat to find him.”
Mendez’s heart hammered. He forced himself to breathe deeply and slow it down. “You don’t know for certain it’s him.”
“No. But the resemblance is notable, wouldn’t you say? Not that we don’t all have a doppelgänger somewhere, which is why I hesitated. Kat would know, surely.”
Mendez thought of his very pregnant wife and his stomach twisted. He had to be logical about this. Resemblances happened sometimes. Uncanny ones, even. Didn’t mean anything. But what if…? “I can’t show her. Not yet. I don’t want her upset when she’s about to give birth.”
Not only upset but planning how she was going to get a face-to-face meeting with this boy.
“No, you can’t show her yet.” Ian nodded at the papers in Mendez’s hand. “I’ve given you everything I’ve found on him. It’s not a lot, but he’s twenty-one, he was orphaned at age twelve and put into state custody, and he joined the navy two years ago. He is currently stationed in Vladivostok.”
Twenty-one. Orphaned at age twelve. It fit, but that didn’t mean the young man was Mendez’s son.
“How did you find him?”
“How do I find anyone?” Ian asked with a shrug. “I work connections and take my time. But I have to confess this one was an accident. One of my operatives had a meeting with a Russian counterpart—and Kazimir was there. My operative thought the resemblance notable, so he let me know about it. Kazimir is officially in navy intelligence, but he’s probably also involved with the FSB.”
Anger and hope flooded Mendez in equal measures. Was this boy his son? Or was it just a coincidence. People could share similar features. How many times did you see a picture of someone who resembled a celebrity?
“What the hell am I supposed to do about this?” Mendez growled, more to himself than anything.
Ian looked grim. “I’m sorry, John. That’s why I debated telling you. I don’t know what you can do. It’s a tricky situation.”
Mendez held up the papers. “I can start here. I don’t have any assets in Vladivostok. And I couldn’t send them after him even if I did. My rules are different.”
Ian nodded. “Yes, they are. You’re a military officer and your organization is funded by the taxpayers. You can’t use them for personal reasons. But I’m a mercenary. I can do whatever the hell I want.”
“I envy you that sometimes.”
“You could always go into private contracting. Retire, hand HOT over to Ghost, and join me over at BDI. Or start your own firm.”
Mendez shook his head. “Don’t think I’d enjoy that, Ian. HOT is what I need and what I’m good at. I’ll leave the private contracting to you.”
“Your choice.”
He frowned. “I can’t go after this kid—but you can. I want to hire you. Get Kazimir Rybakov to DC if you can. If not, I’ll go to him. I need to meet him.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Your best is usually pretty damned good.”
Ian grinned. “I aim to please.”
6
Kat had more Braxton-Hicks throughout the day, but they weren’t regular so she didn’t worry. She’d been through this before, even if it was over twenty years ago. She called Evie Girard and talked to her for a while, then started working on dinner. Johnny called to say he’d be home early, so she peeled potatoes and carrots and sang along with the carols on the radio. Then she put the vegetables in with the roast she’d seasoned, covered the pan, and slipped everything into the oven.
Three hours later, the house smelled divine and Johnny came striding through the door, looking handsome and fierce in his military camouflage. She smiled at the stars on his shoulders. One star for brigadier general. Her general.
“Baby, what did you cook?” he asked as he set down his briefcase and came over to wrap her in a hug.
“Roast beef with potatoes and carrots. And onions. I’ve made gravy as well.”
“You shouldn’t work so hard at this stage of pregnancy.”
She smacked his arm lightly. “Stop it. I should do whatever I want to do.”
“I worry about you.”
“Don’t worry. I’m fine. This isn’t my first pregnancy and I’m not fragile.”
She met his gaze. Something flickered in those eyes. Something that was bothering him. But before she could ask, he lowered his head and kissed her. By the time he stopped kissing her, she couldn’t form a coherent thought in her head.
He led her to the big island in the kitchen, seated her on one of the comfy barstools they had there, and got to work putting dinner on the plates. There was French bread and butter too. He set those out, poured drinks—water for them both—and joined her at the bar.
“Any more contractions today?” he asked.
“A few,” she admitted as she buttered a slice of bread.
He frowned.
“They aren’t regular. It’s not time yet.”
“But you have your bag packed and ready, right?”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Johnny. You know I do. You’ve asked me every day for the past two weeks if I was ready. And I am.”
“It’s a habit. Sorry.”
“You’re used to running a huge organization and you like to make sure the details are correct. I get it. But you don’t have to manage me. I’m a grown woman who survived for years on my own. I’m fine. If I’d never been through this before, I’d be jumpier about it, but everything is normal. Promise.”
He looked troubled again. But he dropped his gaze before she could study him. “You’re right. But I love you and I can’t live without you ever again—so I worry more than I should.”
Kat settled her hand over his. He clasped her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss on the back of it. She reached over and palmed his cheek with her other hand. “I love you too, Johnny. I can’t live without you either, so I’m planning to do
