Triple Terror Read online

  Gabe faced Lizzie, ‘We’re going, sweetheart.’

  Lizzie pouted, ‘Awww. No fair. I want to stay.’

  It was time for big sister to intervene. Nina placed her champagne glass on the table in front of her, rose, and stepped forward so she could embrace her sister. In Lizzie’s ear, she whispered, ‘Go home with Gabe. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too!’

  Nina laughed at Lizzie’s enthusiasm and pulled away. Carrie took her place in the hug. Another excitable ‘I love you’ escaped Lizzie’s lips.

  Gabe chuckled, ‘All right, it’s time to go.’

  Lizzie’s expression turned serious as she turned to Gabe, and slurred, ‘Je t’aime, my widdle mountain heart.’

  Nina laughed. Gabe’s surname, Montcoeur, translated as mountain heart in French. The English version had become Lizzie’s special nickname for him, especially when she was … feeling extra relaxed.

  He grinned and leaned toward her mouth slowly, tenderly, as if they had all the time in the world. Before touching his lips to Lizzie’s, he whispered loud enough for them to hear, ‘Je t’aime aussi, Elizabeth.’

  The incident pulled a memory forward: Andrei doing the same thing to her many years ago. Except he’d told her he loved her in Russian. It had sounded so exotic. Her heart had throbbed from it—still did a little. He’d stared at her in a penetrating way, as if he could see directly into her soul and knew all her secrets. Then he’d seized her into his arms and said, ‘I want to kiss you’. Her legs had felt like they were made from wobbly, unset jelly. She’d managed to nod her approval. When his warm lips had met hers, it had felt like her heart warmed and expanded to include his. Nina looked away. Andrei deserved none of her brain cells.

  Nina watched Gabe direct Lizzie out the door. Her middle sister gave an exuberant wave before the door closed behind her.

  Carrie turned to her, ‘You want another drink?’

  The look on little sister’s face told her she desperately needed the distraction. Her heart clamped with sympathy for her sister.

  This night had to be hard for her. A couple of months ago should have been Carrie’s wedding day. Except her fiancé, Rake—in both name and behaviour, had cheated on her. The ensuing break-up had been devastating for Carrie.

  Little sister needed her again.

  Nina reached for her glass, still on the table, and sculled the contents. ‘Sure. Why not?’

  Maybe it would help keep her mind off a particular Russian-Australian Olympian.

  Carrie gave a grateful smile, and said, ‘I’ll be back.’

  ‘Okay.’ Alone, a thought occurred to her. She hadn’t told Lizzie anything. ‘Damn.’

  She wrinkled her nose. It was too late to do anything about that. She peered over at Carrie. She didn’t really want to go through this twice.

  That’s just a convenient excuse.

  She sighed. She couldn’t keep putting it off.

  Tomorrow.

  She would get up early and go check on Lizzie. If she arranged for Carrie to be there too, she could tell them at the same time.

  The instant she’d convinced herself that was the right course of action, Carrie returned with a drink in each hand. ‘Drink up. The night has just begun!’

  * * *

  Vodka. That’s what he needed. After a couple of glasses, he would be able to clear his mind of Nina. No matter what he’d done, her image and memories had continued to pop in his mind throughout the day. Even during the briefing phone call with his leader, when he’d told the man there was nothing to worry about because Nina had refused to speak with him. The conversation had caused another déjà vu type experience for him. He’d said the same thing all those years ago …

  Vodka!

  He exited his dorm at the back of The Snow Globe and walked in the direction of the city centre. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking before he reached it. Bright lights, crowds of people, and noisy chatter filled his senses.

  He stepped inside the first place that seemed like it would sell alcohol. Jazz music filled his ears. Excellent. Somewhere he could relax. He marched straight toward the bar and waved to get the barman’s attention.

  The man approached with a smile. ‘What can I get you, mate?’

  ‘Your most expensive vodka. As cold as possible.’

  They never served it cold enough for his liking in Australia. Or anywhere else he’d travelled outside of Russia.

  The barman pulled him from his thoughts by asking, ‘Straight?’

  Of course. He was Russian, wasn’t he? Had the man missed his accent?

  He resisted the urge to scoff and in his politest tone, answered, ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  A short wait later, Andrei had the drink in his hand.

  He positioned himself on a stool at the counter, lifted the shot in the air and declared in Russian, ‘To love!’

  He downed the shot and let the liquid forge a warm path down his throat.

  ‘Want another?’

  He turned to the barman and nodded, ‘Why not.’

  As he waited for the drink, Andrei swivelled in his stool in the direction of the jazz band. The singer, a man in a black pinstripe suit, was standing at the front of the stage crooning.

  ‘Here you go, mate.’

  Andrei smiled, paid the barman, and gulped the shot down. He placed the empty glass on the bar then sat back to listen to the words of the song the man was singing. About a girl he wanted to forget …

  He let an ironic chuckle loose and said aloud, ‘Me too.’

  The barman grinned but said nothing. He was probably used to people coming here to drown their failed love tales away. His plan of coming here to unwind and get a certain woman from his mind had backfired. Even the songs were lining up to remind him of her. He ordered a third vodka. A fourth. Then a fifth.

  Finally, the crooner moved on to another song.

  ‘You need another?’

  Andrei faced the barman. ‘I’d better not.’

  If he had too many drinks and acted like a fool, the Australian Olympic Committee could kick him out of the team. It was one of the more strictly enforced rules. There was no point in hanging about. Especially since the universe had a sense of humour tonight.

  He rose from the stool and turned.

  As he did, his eyes locked on to the familiar sapphire-blue ones belonging to Nina Farris. The expression on her face was something between panic, irritation, and confusion. He was certain his own face showed the same.

  She blurted, ‘What are you doing here?’

  There was no animosity in the tone, just curiosity.

  He nodded at his empty shot glass still on the bar. ‘Drinking. You?’

  ‘Celebrating Lizzie’s engagement.’

  She pressed her lips together, which showed him she hadn’t meant to divulge that information.

  He pretended he hadn’t noticed and smiled in response. ‘Really? Tell her congratulations from me.’

  She gave him a tense, closed-mouth smile then her eyes seemed to … he couldn’t quite place the emotion he was getting from them. Hurt?

  She looked away and said, ‘I’ve got to go.’

  Yes, definitely hurt.

  She whirled around as an overwhelming impulse made him call out, ‘Nina, wait.’

  She didn’t; she kept walking. He couldn’t tell if it was because she hadn’t heard him over the singer or because she’d chosen to ignore him.

  Probably the latter.

  He tried to run after her, compelled by the same impulse, but was thwarted by a firm hand across his chest. He turned his head and saw the person it belonged to: Carrie Farris.

  Oh-oh.

  He’d met Carrie and Elizabeth Farris in Russia too. They’d come to support their sister at her first Olympics. Naturally, all three sisters had been his targets and he’d had to make a profile on each of them. Carrie had always been stand-offish and suspicious of him. Once again, like Marcel, the fact she could sense BS made him like her. Lizzie
had been friendly and welcoming, which had been impossible not to find appealing too. All three of them had a lot to offer. Just not for Russia. They’d been ‘true blue’ Australians. Which is what had been in his final report.

  Drawing him from the recollection, Carrie screwed her face up in visible contempt as she snarled, ‘Don’t even think about it, arsehole.’

  ‘I just—’

  ‘You just need to stay the hell away from her.’

  With that, she spun and bolted after her sister. All he could do was stand and stare. Like the morning in The Snow Globe, so did everyone else.

  So much for staying under the radar.

  * * *

  ‘Nina, wait.’

  She stopped and faced her little sister. It took her by surprise when she felt tears rolling down both of her cheeks. Why was she crying? A distantly familiar burn in her heart hinted at the answer.

  Carrie pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t cry. He’s not worth it.’

  Nina nodded as sobs escaped. I know … but why doesn’t my stupid heart?

  This morning, she thought she’d been fine seeing him. It was true that the physical attraction for Andrei had still been there, but she’d felt in control of her heart.

  So what had happened just now? Why had she felt so out of control?

  Maybe the alcohol had loosened her defences against him. Or was it the way they’d almost settled into a normal conversation? Had that made her remember what giving in to his charm led to: being lied to, being made to look like a fool for believing he had feelings for her when he didn’t, being treated like a casual, meaningless nothing?

  A tug in her stomach told her it was all of that.

  Carrie pulled away and focused on her. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Carrie sent her a scrutinising look. ‘How long have you known he was in Cairns?’

  Of course little sister would pick up on the fact that Nina’s reaction hadn’t been one of shock at seeing him.

  Nina sighed, ‘Let’s get back to my place and I’ll tell you everything.’

  * * *

  Hurricane Nina was gone. The title suited her—she’d blown into his life and flipped everything upside down eight years ago … and the fallout was still affecting his life. The crooner darted interested sideways glances at him through his latest song.

  Andrei nodded at the barman, ‘Thanks,’ then made as swift and graceful an exit as he could under the circumstances.

  Outside, he peered around, but couldn’t see Nina anywhere. He threw his hands up in frustration and exhaled. She was gone.

  Alone, the reality of what he’d been about to do hit him. He frowned. What would he have done if he’d caught up to her?

  He was supposed to be staying away from her as much as possible. That was both his and the FSB’s rule. He had to get a grip and stop these silly impulses he’d been giving into. Yes, it was hard seeing her hurt and in pain, but Nina believing the lies was the best outcome for all involved. Succumbing to the urges would only lead to serious trouble for him and more heartache for both of them.

  It had been idiotic running after her. How would he have explained it during his next check-in call? He’d told them there was nothing to worry about, that his romantic feelings for Nina were buried in the past.

  He frowned when he realised running after her because she was upset suggested otherwise.

  What would he have said to her anyway?

  He couldn’t tell her who he worked for or who he’d been before meeting her. He couldn’t tell her that she and her sisters had been one of his mission targets either. She would really hate him then. Nina could be overly protective of Carrie and Lizzie. She thought she despised him now, but that opinion was based on lies. The truth was a whole other matter. But lies were all he could ever offer her, and she deserved so much more than that.

  There was another side to all this too. While he had the truth to hold onto, he could pretend his life had meant something to someone once. That he’d been worthy of love for one instant. It seemed silly, but some days biathlon and the memory of Nina’s love were the only things that kept him going.

  She was mad at him and always would be. He deserved that response. It was the best thing for all involved. Getting intimate with Nina again was a mistake he could not afford to make twice. Staying out of her way was the only solution.

  She hates me.

  He grimaced at the pain that rumbled through his stomach with the thought. Not the first time that had ever happened. He rubbed at it until it disappeared.

  Once more he reminded himself: it was either hate him for the lies or despise him for the truth. He knew which one he preferred. There was nothing he could do to change it …

  An apology would be a good place to start.

  He hesitated on the thought and scoured his memories. He couldn’t place a time when he’d apologised for his behaviour. Even when he’d told her he didn’t love her, the words ‘I’m sorry’ had never been used.

  The fact they hadn’t spoken since that day in Russia had meant he’d never had another opportunity. It was clear she was still hurt by what he’d done to her.

  His hands had been tied back then. He’d been forbidden from talking to and contacting her, he still was now …

  With one exception. He’d been permitted to talk to her so long as it’s necessary to maintain your cover. All he had to do was wait for the perfect excuse to talk to her. One that his leader would find acceptable. So long as it didn’t break any rules—they didn’t have to be alone when he did it and he could keep it strictly professional and not get emotionally involved—why couldn’t he do it?

  At a bare minimum, she deserved an apology.

  A lightness passed over him as the intention firmed in his mind.

  He smiled. I can do this.

  It stunned him when he suddenly frowned with a new realisation.

  He didn’t know how to apologise.

  His miserable parents had never said the words to him. Not for any of the times he’d been beaten during their drunken rages; not for the times he’d been left starving and begging for food on the streets because alcohol had been more important to spend their last rouble on than their son; not when he’d been forced to go out and pickpocket or steal to get food. Not ever.

  When he’d turned thirteen and life at ‘home’ had been too unbearable to endure anymore, he’d left to live on the streets. The same had applied there. Nobody apologised for screwing you over.

  When he’d joined a street gang for a modicum of safety and regular meals, sorry had been a word used by the weak or the dead.

  There’d been no room for sorry in his job at the FSB or his biathlon training either. Only orders and obedience.

  He sighed and pushed the memories of the past away. This wasn’t his parents, or the streets, or his job. It was Nina. The only person who had been loving and kind to him. As soon as he spotted an opportunity, it would be done.

  Chapter 6

  Nina perched herself on one of the stools at the breakfast bar in Lizzie’s unit, and asked, ‘How’s your head this morning?’

  Lizzie groaned and lifted a hand to her brow. ‘I am never drinking again.’

  Carrie laughed, ‘Yeah, right. Australia Day’s coming up. Doubt you’ll sit that one out.’

  Lizzie threw her a look that Nina knew to mean ‘shut up’. She smiled to herself. She was going to miss this banter when she was in China without them. If she was being completely honest, she wanted their support in dealing with the games, the investigation, and Andrei.

  She sighed, and hadn’t realised she’d done it aloud, until Carrie asked, ‘Everything okay?’

  Nina faced her. The look on Carrie’s face hinted that she was talking about Andrei. Nina flashed a forced smile and nodded in answer. Then she glanced at Lizzie, who was giving her an expectant stare.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  There was no point lying, she would know.
/>   Nina drew in a breath. ‘I have something to tell you.’

  ‘Oh, no. Why don’t I like the sound of this?’

  Carrie quipped, ‘Better brace yourself. It’s a doozy.’

  ‘Oh, God. What is it?’

  Nina licked her bottom lip and focused on her little sister, ‘Actually, you only know half of it, Carrie.’

  They’d gotten so sidetracked with the Andrei issue last night that she’d ended up being too tired to admit the rest of it.

  Carrie frowned and crossed her arms in front of her, ‘Okay …’

  Where did she start? Bad news or worse news first?

  She turned her attention to Lizzie and blurted, ‘Andrei’s in town.’

  The expression on her sister’s face fell. ‘What? Since when? I mean, we knew he was in Australia, but Cairns …?’

  ‘Yes. From what I have managed to guess, I think it’s been about three months.’

  ‘Three months? And he never said a thing? How have we not seen him in that time?’

  Nina shrugged, ‘I don’t know. He’s been here training with the Olympic team.’ Lizzie’s forehead wrinkled, ‘What, as a coach?’

  ‘No … as a competitor.’

  Silence passed for a few seconds then Lizzie piped up. ‘Hang on. Are you saying he’s living here to train?’

  Carrie nodded, answering the question herself, ‘I told you it was a doozy.’

  ‘But why Cairns? Why not New South Wales or Victoria? Or Tassie?’

  Nina shrugged, ‘I asked him, but he didn’t …’

  Oops.

  She cut herself short and flicked a look between her sisters. It was another thing she hadn’t mentioned to Carrie last night. Before she could take it back, she noted that both sisters had caught her slip of tongue.

  Carrie gasped, ‘You’ve spoken to him before last night?’

  ‘I have.’

  Lizzie added, ‘When?’

  ‘Yesterday morning.’ She paused then mumbled, ‘At training.’

  ‘At training?’ Confusion flecked Carrie’s features.

  Lizzie frowned. ‘What does that mean?’

  Nina inhaled then exhaled slowly. It was full confession time.

  ‘It means … I’m in training because I’m going to the Winter Olympics.’