The SEAL’s Surprise Baby by Leslie North

18

Anderson dug in his pocket when his phone buzzed as he was walking home from the bakery. He checked the screen, a small part of him hoping that Violet had reached out to him. But he saw it was Allen Zimmerman. He answered and kept moving.

“Hey,” Allen said. “You home?”

“No, why?” An edge to the other man’s voice made Anderson tense.

“Something weird with the security system. We show an exit at 6:10…”

“That was me. I rearmed it when I went out.” Anderson had been careful to do that every morning, and he hadn’t been about to stop just because they’d captured the assailants yesterday.

“Yeah, we can see that, but the whole thing went offline ten minutes ago. Alarms, cameras, everything. You’re not there?” Allen asked again.

“No.” Anderson picked up his pace as his instincts started screaming a warning. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

“I’ll send backup. Be careful,” Zimmerman said and disconnected.

Anderson sprinted toward the house but, at the last minute, detoured down an alley. Approaching from the back felt right somehow. He jumped the neighbor’s fence and went over a second fence into his yard at a corner of the house where there were no windows. Crouching low, he moved along the side of the building to check the driveway and street, half expecting to see a black SUV. Instead, a blue Dodge Charger he didn’t recognize was parked at the curb. It wasn’t an unusual vehicle for the neighborhood, but the out-of-state license plates made it stand out.

Could be a coincidence, but Anderson didn’t think so.

He worked his way around the house’s periphery, looking in windows. The kitchen and dining room were clear, the small foyer and staircase empty. When he reached the living room windows, his heart nearly stopped. Violet sat on the coffee table, her hands tied behind her back with the sash from her robe. A man stood over her. He was in black tactical clothing and had a jagged scar on his cheek.

He was the same man who had come at Anderson when he tried to retrieve the IDs. Anderson took a closer look, and then it clicked. Rafe Solok. Anderson had seen him just once during his time in Moscow. He was one of Volkhov’s lieutenants, high up in the Wolf’s hierarchy… and a paid assassin.

Solok was talking, but Anderson couldn’t hear the words. They weren’t important anyway. The important thing was that Violet was still okay… so far. But knowing Solok’s reputation, that wouldn’t be true for long. And…

Anderson sucked in a breath. Nate. Anderson didn’t think for a second that Solok would spare the baby.

No way was he going to lose Violet and his son when he’d just figured out how much he loved them. God, he wished he’d responded differently when she’d poured out her heart the night before. He’d been too stunned, too clueless to realize that being with her was what he wanted. He wasn’t having that opportunity ripped away from him.

Anderson needed a plan. Trying to clear his head of emotion, he looked at the situation logically. He had to approach this as if it were a mission. First, he had to get in the house. The French doors that led from the living room to the deck were his best bet. From there, he’d be able to see Violet’s face, and Solok’s back would be to him.

Keeping his focus on the mission, he noiselessly circled the house until he could see Violet through the doors. Her eyes flicked over him, but she was too smart to give him away. He watched her say something to distract Solok. He almost smiled, so in love with her bravery and her brains.

* * *

Violet forced herself not to show her relief when she saw Anderson’s face come into view. She didn’t waste time wondering how he’d known something was wrong. Since being taken hostage, she’d been paralyzed with fear that he’d come through the front door and never have a chance against Solok.

“Your son is still sleeping? Lucky boy,” Solok commented in a casual tone.

Violet swallowed down the bile that rose when he mentioned Nate. It had been unrealistic to hope he was unaware of Nate. “He’s with Anderson,” she lied. “Far from here.” All she could do was pray that Nate didn’t wake up and cry.

“Do not try to fool me.” Solok waved a gun in her face. “I watched Commander Park leave, and he was alone. When I’m ready, I’ll have you fetch the boy. I like families to die together. It makes for such an interesting story in the newspapers.”

A chill raced through her, but she had to rely on Anderson to defuse the situation.

“I expect your lover will be home soon,” Solok commented.

“We had a fight,” she said, telling the truth this time. “He might not come back.”

“More lies. I tripped the alarm, so he’ll come running back. I’m sure he received an alert on his phone.”

She’d forgotten about the security system, but Solok had the details wrong. Rogers’s company would get the alarm, which meant they knew of the danger and, presumably, had warned Anderson. If she could just hold out a little longer, Anderson wouldn’t have to face Solok alone.

Gingerly, she twisted her wrist, catching the end of the tie that bound it. If she could work her hands free…

Before she could do more, she felt more than saw Anderson’s presence in the room. He’d entered through the kitchen and moved without a sound to the living room. His arms were spread wide.

What was he doing? Why hadn’t he used the element of surprise to attack?

But she knew why. Even though he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t put her life in danger.

“Ah, very good. You’re back.” Solok’s smile was predatory. “Why don’t you have a seat so we can all… talk.”

“I have a better idea,” Anderson said, his tone cool. “Why don’t you let Violet go and keep me.”

“This isn’t a negotiation. Sit.” The assassin indicated a chair to Violet’s left, his gun still trained on her. “Keep your hands on your knees.”

Anderson complied and turned to Violet. “Are you all right?”

“For now,” she said, her voice steady. As she spoke, she worked the knot behind her back. “You should have stayed away.”

“I couldn’t,” Anderson responded, meeting her eyes.

“How touching,” Solok sneered.

“Not at all.” Anderson swung his gaze to Solok. “Curiosity brought me inside. I wanted to know why you’re pursuing us. I can’t quite reason it out.”

“Perhaps the analyst can.” Solok touched her cheek with one finger.

“I guess I’m not as good as I thought. I have no idea.” She kept herself steady despite the vileness of his touch.

“Revenge, of course. The two of you destroyed my life in Moscow, destroyed my family.”

“Your family?” Violet prompted, feeling the tie loosen a little more.

“You sent Volkhov to jail. He was… he was like a father to me.” He turned away slightly as he spoke, but not enough that she or Anderson could risk a move. “He took me from an orphanage when I was fourteen and turned me into a man.”

“I’m sure his prison sentence isn’t long.” Russian mob bosses never spent more than a few months in jail.

“He’s dead.” Solok spun back in their direction, his eyes deadly.

“What?” The news shocked her. None of the intelligence she’d reviewed suggested that Volkhov was dead.

“The prison falsified records to hide the truth, but he is dead.” Solok looked anguished. “I claimed his body myself.”

“That’s—” Anderson started.

“We didn’t know.” She cut him off rather than risk that Anderson’s comment would incite Solok. It wasn’t time for that yet. She didn’t pretend sympathy, but she did want to keep Solok talking as she worked to get her hands free.

“So you see why you have to die,” Solok said, his tone sending chills through her.

“A family for a family,” Violet spoke quietly as the pieces clicked into place. Her and Anderson’s intelligence work had destroyed Volkhov and his syndicate, leaving Solok without a pack, so to speak. His “family” was gone, so he intended to kill hers: the ultimate revenge.

“Da,” Solok confirmed with a nod.

“May I ask a question first?” When he didn’t object, she went on. “What about the four men who attacked us yesterday? What was the intention with them?”

Solok waved his hand in the air as if dismissing something minor. “Those men were on loan from another syndicate. Disposable.”

“So why use them?” she asked, buying time to continue working the knot.

His wolfish smile appeared again. “So that you would think you were free. I like to surprise my prey. I like them to feel that they are safe before I attack.”

That explained the ease with which the men had been disarmed. They were sacrificial lambs, perhaps dangerous in their own way—but paid to fail in this case. She’d seen only part of the puzzle the night before. If she hadn’t been distracted by the tension between her and Anderson, she might have realized that they’d been lulled into a false sense of security.

She glanced at Anderson. He was coiled like a spring, ready to unwind. At any opportunity, he’d launch himself at Solok—and the assassin wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. She needed another solution. Getting her hands free wasn’t enough. She needed a weapon. And then it came to her. Just below where she sat, Anderson had kept a handgun in the coffee table drawer.

She’d objected to it because of Nate, but Anderson had reasoned that the baby wasn’t mobile and couldn’t get to it. She’d relented… but was it still there? Had Anderson packed up his weapons in anticipation of leaving?

It was a risk she’d have to take. With relief, she undid the last knot holding her hands behind her back. Seeing that her hands were free and seeming to sense she had a plan, Anderson drew Solok’s attention to him.

“You’ll be captured and tried for murder,” Anderson said.

“On the unlikely chance I would be taken into custody,” Solok said dismissively, “I would be extradited immediately.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Anderson taunted, leaning forward.

Solok didn’t seem unnerved, but he was a tiny bit distracted. She had to seize this opportunity.

Before she could act, Nate cried from his crib. Solok’s eyes went to the ceiling, and Anderson leaped forward, driving his head into the Russian’s stomach. Solok’s gun flew from his hand and spun across the room, out of both men’s reach.

Violet opened the drawer and retrieved Anderson’s gun, flicking off the safety as she lifted it. The men grappled with each other, making it impossible for her to get a clean shot. She waited, watching for an opportunity. Seconds passed. Solok had height and weight on Anderson, but the SEAL was quicker. When Anderson shoved Solok back, putting some space between them, she took the shot.

The bullet entered Solok’s chest high up on the right side. She hadn’t shot to kill, but to disable. The Russian staggered and went down. Anderson was immediately on him, flipping him over and yanking his hands behind his back. Solok yelled in pain, but Anderson didn’t relent until he had him secured.

Knowing that Anderson had everything under control, she lowered the gun. She was temporarily frozen in place, knowing that she should feel some compunction about shooting a human being. However, she had no regrets and no sympathy for the man who’d threatened Anderson, her, and their son. He would have killed them all. Now that the danger was over, she felt a wave of nerves and nausea roll through her.

Anderson stood and came toward her, but the squeal of tires out front and Nate’s repeated cries drove Violet into action. She went to the front door and opened it to signal to Rogers’s men that the danger was over. Then, without waiting for them to enter, she took the steps two at a time to reach Nate in his crib.