“We will go to the boat as soon as we’re done here. Don’t be afraid, little mink.”
“Oh,Anton.” As soon as the name was out of his mouth, Ajax gasped in shock and shame. It had simply been there on his tongue, old and comforting. He knew it wasn’t Anton holding him. Heknewit. He just wished it was, maybe. But that was impossible, and it probably hurt Dmytro’s feelings.
Dmytro shot him a wry glance. “My name is—”
“Oh, God. I’msosorry. I just—The name just came out. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine,” Dmytro said gently. “I wish Anton was here too, more often than you know. Come. Bartosz says we can hide in the pantry until the police arrive to question us.”
Ajax went.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ajax
Ajax,did you like my bullets? Next time, I won’t miss.
“I phoned Zhenya.”Bartosz returned to the small storage room. He’d talked to the cook, who owned the restaurant, and the waiter who’d served them. Dmytro held his hand up for Bartosz to switch languages.
“This is agoatfuck,” Dmytro muttered in Russian. “You saw no one suspicious? Are you certain?”
“What does that mean?” Bartosz asked. “You doubt me?”
“Whoever shot at us is on top of our every move.”
Shoulders stiff, Bartosz glared. “You believeI’mbeing indiscreet?”
“Well, I know it’s not me. How could anyone follow us here?”
“It’s not me, brother. I’ve taken every precaution. Followed Zhenya’s orders to the letter.” Bartosz narrowed his eyes. “What about you?”
“I’ve done nothing.” Dmytro drew his jacket closed over Ajax’s shaking shoulders. “But I’ll get Zhenya to send someone to check us again for transmitters. There has to be something.”
“Can’t be on the car.”
“Exactly.” Dmytro didn’t want to believe it, but who else knew their position just then besides the three of them and Zhenya? “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Me? I’m not the one shooting fawning looks at thelittle mink.”
“It’s the job to take care of him.”
“You want him.” Bartosz switched back to English and directed a filthy look toward Ajax. “You told the girl who you are. Who else did you tell?”
Ajax’s jaw dropped. “I—”
“You gave her your name, and now this happens?” Bartosz shouted. “I’m sick of these so-called coincidences. It’s obvious what has happened here. The little shit is stirring the pot.”
“No way.” Ajax rose, gripping Dmytro’s jacket with both hands. “Nowayhave I done that. How could I? I have no idea where we are. I have no phone. No computer. Like it or not, this is on Iphicles, not me. You need to check your hardwareandyour people because this has got to be an inside job. And if I’ve figured that out, you can damn well bet Uncle Zhenya and my parents have too.”
“You’re mad.” Bartosz got out his phone. “I’m calling Zhenya again.”
“Anyway, as you pointed out,” Ajax reminded them, “whoever fired on us wastryingto miss us.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Bartosz argued.
Ajax lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. The pattern didn’t lie. “Duh. Of course they were.”
“How can you be so certain?”
