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  This wasn’t good.

  “Po-well.”

  She turned and saw a youngish man in a doctor’s coat standing nearby. He wasn’t the one who had treated her before, but she remembered seeing him help someone else.

  “Arm, please.”

  She moved to him and held out her arm. He used a gauze pad to blot away some of the blood, and gave the wound a closer look.

  “What happen?” he asked.

  “I fell,” she said. She pantomimed tripping.

  He looked at the wound again and didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t ask her a second time.

  “Come,” he said, as he turned toward the examination area.

  Alex chanced another look out the window. The small parade was passing through the isolation-area doorway.

  “Please,” the doctor said. “Come.”

  As Alex followed, she realized that the guard and the reception nurse were no longer around. The doctor pointed at one of the examination tables, and, as she sat down, he pulled the curtain closed around them.

  He said, “Do you not think easier to make new cut than open this one again?”

  “What?” she said, surprised. His English was a hell of a lot better than it had been a moment before.

  “You did this yourself, yes?”

  She shook her head and said, “Why would you say that?”

  “Look.” He turned her arm so they could both see the torn sutures. “If you fell as guard say, maybe one stitch break and come loose. You have two, and they are both cut. Look? You can see it.”

  She didn’t glance down, and instead kept her face neutral. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

  “You are lucky I working tonight. If Dr. Timko, he report you to warden. After getting into fight today, the warden have had no choice but to punish you. Then where you be?”

  “Traz?” she said, her voice low.

  “Who else you think?”

  “Are we safe talking like this?”

  “Infirmary cameras cannot see behind curtain, and not have microphones.”

  “What about the nurse? The guard? They could come back.”

  “Irina is my partner. She is occupying guard while we talk.”

  “Partner? You mean…you’re both Traz?”

  “Why not?”

  It had never occurred to her Traz would be two people. She shrugged and said, “Why are you talking to me now?”

  He frowned. “I thought you come to talk to me, yes?”

  “I came here so I could see what was going on in the yard.”

  The frown deepened. She told him she had just witnessed the prisoner he knew as A’isha Najem—the prisoner she was interested in—being moved.

  “You are sure?” he asked when she finished, suddenly concerned.

  “Absolutely.”

  “A moment, please.”

  He ducked around the end of the curtain and left.

  Once his footsteps faded away, the only sound she could hear was the click-click-click of a clock on the wall ticking off the seconds.

  She knew a lot of the inmates would’ve loved to be in her position right now—alone in the infirmary. Even though there were cameras outside this curtain, plenty of escape attempts had been started from considerably more difficult locations.

  The doctor returned after several minutes, his steps moving rapidly across the tiled floor. When he ducked around the curtain, she could see he looked worried.

  “You are right,” he said. “They take A’isha Najem and her cellmates to isolation.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “The official reason is disciplinary.”

  “Is there any way for me to get to her?”

  “You mean go to isolation?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked away for a moment. “Well, I guess there is, but it’s…”

  When he didn’t finish, she said, “Difficult?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve flown five thousand miles to purposely be put in a prison, and help break someone out who very likely won’t want to come with me. Define difficult?”

  Alex and the doctor talked for several more minutes, then she scribbled a quick message for Cooper and Deuce, and gave it to the doctor, whose name she discovered was Teterya. The note made no mention of pulling the plug on the mission.

  She wasn’t about to go through all of this for nothing.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The assassin spent much of the night thinking about what she had seen before the horn went off.

  She had tailed the North American woman during the dinner hour, saw her enter Building Two, and followed her up to the second level. She had waited in the shadows of the doorway between the blocks, and watched the woman approach El-Hashim’s cell then pause just outside of it to listen.

  That was when the assassin knew the North American woman was not one of El-Hashim’s associates.

  Not wanting to risk being caught, the assassin had headed back downstairs and outside. There she had witnessed the woman exit Building Two in a hurry, followed soon by one of El-Hashim’s bodyguards, and the confrontation that occurred.

  So who was this woman? And what was she up to?

  More importantly, how might she affect the mission?

  The assassin would find the answers.

  She always did.

  * * *

  VANKO LEONCHUK HAD worked as a guard at Slavne Prison for three years. Before getting the job, he wouldn’t have believed the things women were capable of doing to themselves and each other. They were almost as bad as men. He’d seen drug overdoses, suicides, more fights than he could count, and five straight-out murders.

  His sensitivities to such things had dulled quickly, so when he saw that the new prisoner’s arm was bleeding from the wound she’d received earlier that day, his only thought was to wonder if this was going to make him late for the barracks’ card game.

  She said something to him in her native tongue. German? English? He wasn’t sure which, but he knew what she wanted, and what he had to do.

  Annoyed, he escorted her into the administration building and up to the infirmary. When he opened the door, she rushed inside. He followed, hoping this wouldn’t take very long, but then he spotted the nurse on duty, and his whole mood changed.

  Irina was an excellent example of genetics gone right. Round hips; nice, succulent ass; flat stomach; and breasts that just begged to be kissed. Her face wasn’t bad, either, but Vanko wasn’t much of a face man.

  He could imagine what she’d be like in bed.

  Unfortunately, imagine was all he’d been able to do. Since she’d come to work at the prison, he’d asked her out at least four times. And each time, he had been met with a quick but polite rejection. She never told him why, but he assumed there was a boyfriend in the picture somewhere.

  So Vanko had finally stopped asking her. The lusting, though, didn’t go away. Maybe if she hadn’t been so polite in her refusal, he could have gotten angry about it and moved on. Women really knew how to toy with a man, and there was something about this one that refused to let him go.

  Now, here she was, looking as ripe and tasty as ever, smiling up at him as he approached her desk. “Vanko, how are you?”

  “Good, thank you. And you?”

  “Good, also.” Another smile, then she looked around him at the prisoner who wandered over near the windows. “A problem?”

  “She was the one in that fight earlier. It looks like her wound has reopened.”

  Irina seemed surprised at the mention of the fight. She looked at the woman again before saying, “Let me get someone to examine her.”

  When she returned, Dr. Symon Teterya was with her.

  “What’s going on?” the doctor asked.

  Vanko told him, then said, “She doesn’t speak Ukrainian.”

  “What does she speak?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, then, what’s her name?”

  Vanko didn’t like the attitud
e Dr. Teterya was giving him, but that wasn’t surprising. In Vanko’s view, the doctor had always acted superior to the guards. Of course, the real reason Vanko disliked him was that he got to work directly with Irina. Vanko wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but there was more than a little jealousy coloring his opinion of the man.

  “I don’t remember her name. She’s a new prisoner. Came in yesterday.”

  “Do you at least know what cell she’s in?”

  Of course Vanko knew which cell. He knew everyone’s cell. “One eighty-five.”

  Dr. Teterya nodded at Irina, who typed the number into her computer. In a low voice, she said, “Maureen Powell. Canada.”

  “English, then, most likely,” the doctor said. He strode across the room to the woman.

  Vanko couldn’t be sure, but he thought Dr. Teterya shared a quick look with Irina before he left. Vanko immediately forgot about it, however, when Irina said, “I could really use a cup of tea. How about you? Would you like to join me?”

  His gaze flicked toward the doctor and the prisoner. Teterya was examining the wound. “I should stay here.”

  It was protocol, after all.

  “Dr. Teterya will be fine. She won’t be a problem.”

  Vanko glanced at the other two again. Problem or not, having a cup of tea with Irina would be as close as he had ever come to a date with her. Besides, the break room was just down the hall. He could be back here in seconds if there was trouble.

  Irina rounded her desk and started walking toward the door. “If you’d rather, I could bring you back a cup.”

  “No. I’ll…I’ll come with you.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  * * *

  VANKO HAD TO work very hard not to stare at Irina’s chest as they sat at the small break room table and drank their tea. This was the longest he’d ever been alone with her.

  They talked about things two people who worked at the same place always talked about—their coworkers and bosses. It was funny. Irina was actually letting him do most of the talking, and seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. He didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to puff his feathers a bit, and let her get to know him a little better. Maybe if he renewed his attempts to get her to go out with him, the answer would be different this time.

  He was telling her about a prison yard fight he’d broken up the other day—adding a few flourishes, of course—when Irina jerked and pulled a phone out of her pocket.

  She took a quick look at the screen and said, “They’re finished.”

  A text from the doctor, Vanko thought, ending their break together. Yet another reason to hate the guy.

  After they returned to the infirmary, and Vanko took charge of Powell again, his friend Danya Sosna—another guard—arrived with a prisoner in tow who was clutching her stomach. He and Danya exchanged a quick greeting, then Vanko and Powell left as Dr. Teterya led his new patient to the back.

  When they entered Building One, Vanko couldn’t help but notice the looks Powell was getting from the other inmates. Powell had obviously made a mark on the rest of the population—and so soon, too. He’d seen it happen before, and knew she was either destined to be someone the others won’t mess with in the years ahead, or dead before the end of the month.

  After locking her in, he headed for the exit, and his thoughts turned from Powell back to Irina. Just a few more minutes in that break room and he would have asked her out again. He knew she would say yes this time, and could instantly picture their date—a decent dinner, heavy on the alcohol, then a cheap room in town where the night could really begin.

  Goddamn Dr. Teterya.

  Vanko checked his watch as he entered the yard. His shift had officially ended ten minutes ago. Not as bad as it could have been. He might not be at the barracks for the beginning of the game, but he could join in as soon as he got there and wouldn’t miss much.

  Irina. Drinks. A hotel room.

  The thoughts danced with each other as he crossed the yard and reentered the administration building. After passing through the checkpoint, he looked at his watch again.

  Maybe I can spare just a little more time.

  Instead of going to the locker room and changing out of his uniform, he headed back to the infirmary. As he exited the stairwell onto the second floor, he almost ran into Danya and his prisoner.

  “Finished already?” Vanko said.

  “I think she’s faking it,” Danya told him. He gave the girl a shake. “Aren’t you?”

  “No,” she said. She wasn’t holding her stomach like before, but she didn’t look particularly well, either.

  “Isn’t your shift done?” Danya asked Vanko.

  “Yeah. Just have one more thing to do.”

  Danya smiled knowingly and glanced back at the infirmary. “Still pursuing the impossible, I see.”

  Vanko blushed slightly. “Nothing is impossible.”

  Danya laughed, and pushed his charge past Vanko. “I wish you luck, my friend.”

  “Thank you.”

  Unfortunately, Danya’s doubt had taken some of the steam out of Vanko’s mission, and Vanko was no longer certain Irina would say yes. Giving himself a quick pep talk, he took a deep breath, and headed down the hall.

  When he opened the door to the infirmary, he was surprised to find no one there. He walked over to Irina’s empty desk and looked back into the examination area. It, too, was deserted.

  He wondered if she might be in the break room, and was about to go check, when he heard a low voice coming from the other side of the examination room. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but it sounded like Irina.

  Entering the examination area, Vanko walked toward the sound. There was another room beyond this that he had never been inside. The door that closed it off had a square window inset at eye level, but while Vanko could hear Irina’s voice, he couldn’t see her.

  Probably on the phone.

  He took a few more steps forward, and craned his neck to see if he could get a glimpse of her through the door’s window. Instead, what he saw was Dr. Teterya.

  Curious now, he moved in until he was able to see Irina standing next to the doctor. They seemed to be looking at a piece of paper the doctor was holding.

  “That’s all there is?” Irina asked.

  Dr. Teterya nodded.

  “Okay,” Irina said, “I’ll deliver it when I get off at four.”

  She took the paper from him and started to fold it.

  “I should do it,” he told her. “It could be dangerous.”

  “No. I’m off three hours before you. It makes more sense for me to do it.” Her voice softened. “Besides, the only dangerous part is here at the prison. I’ll be fine.”

  Vanko was confused. They were doing something dangerous? Something that was more dangerous here? And what did this piece of paper have to do with it? A little backchannel prison business, perhaps?

  If he had turned and walked away at that moment, he would have left it at that. If Irina and Dr. Teterya had found a way to earn a few extra bucks, who was he to get in their way?

  Everyone did it at some point, didn’t they?

  He certainly had. The television in his parents’ house had been fully paid for by a few errands he’d run for some of the prisoners.

  But Vanko hadn’t turned away. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. So he was looking directly at Irina through that small window when she put a hand on Dr. Teterya’s cheek and kissed him passionately on the lips.

  Now Vanko not only wanted to look away, but also tear his eyes out—to unsee what he had just seen. But he watched as the doctor pulled her into an embrace they had undoubtedly shared many times before.

  “You must call me as soon as you’ve dropped it off,” Teterya said when they finally parted. “I want to know you are all right.”

  “I told you, I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll call me. Promise.”

  “All right, I’ll call you.”

  Vanko backed quic
kly away from the door, his whole body numb.

  He had once thought that if Irina had been cruel to him, it would’ve been easier for him to move on. Well, she was definitely being cruel now, even if she didn’t realize it. He froze, an image in his mind of the tea they’d had together.

  He cursed to himself. She had only been pretending to be interested in him, leading him on for some reason.

  But what?

  The moment Dr. Teterya had texted her, their tea had ended.

  And that could mean only one thing.

  She had suggested the tea to get him out of the infirmary.

  Which meant that whatever their little business deal was, it must’ve involved the prisoner Powell. So had Powell purposely reinjured her arm so she could be taken to the infirmary to meet with Teterya and Irina?

  Anger began to boil inside Vanko, melting the ice that had numbed him.

  He had been played. First by Powell, then by his lovely Irina.

  He was a stooge, an unknowing errand boy.

  And he did not like it.

  As he whipped around to head for the exit, his hand bumped a clipboard sitting on a tray. It was but a few centimeters above the floor when he grabbed it, preventing it from clattering against the tile. He shot a look behind him, wondering if the doctor or Irina had heard anything, but the door remained closed.

  He carefully put the clipboard back and left.

  * * *

  IRINA EXITED THE administration building at twelve minutes after four a.m., climbed into her car, and drove out of the prison parking lot.

  As soon as she was out of sight, Vanko dropped his car into gear and followed.

  After clearing the main gate, Irina turned east at the highway. Vanko, who months earlier had learned the details of Irina’s life, knew that her small flat was to the west, in Slavne itself.

  Well, isn’t this interesting, he thought as he got onto the highway several seconds behind her.

  She stayed on the road only a few kilometers before turning onto a small lane. Vanko had driven this stretch of the highway thousands of times in his life, but he had never once gone down that narrow road. In fact, it was so insignificant, he couldn’t remember ever noticing it.

  He pulled to the side of the highway before reaching the turnoff, and considered what he should do. While his headlights wouldn’t have seemed out of place on the main road, Irina would surely take note of them on the much-less-traveled lane. But he really wanted to know what she was up to. She had fucked with his life, so he was more than ready to do the same with hers.