“If this is what it feels like to be your son, I’ll pass.”
“Fair enough.” Ivan smiled knowingly, like a child with a secret. “So? Aren’t you tempted, even a little, to kill me?”
He only bothered to ask the question because he knew Lyon well enough to know he would never do such a thing, not because of any affection Lyon might still harbor for him, but because it was an impossible move with only one outcome.
Checkmate.
The only advantage Lyon had was that the same was true for Ivan, for Russia. Lyon was pakhan now. To execute him without cause would be to cause revolt in the ranks.
“Not at all,” Lyon said. “It will be more fun to let Moscow deal with you when you don’t deliver.”
“I have delivered.” Ivan’s voice was louder now. “It’s done.”
Lyon shook his head. “You made a mistake.”
Ivan smirked. “And what mistake is that?”
“You let me accumulate pawns, bishops, knights.”A queen.“Now you have to take them to win.”
Ivan’s nod was almost deferential. “I look forward to our game.”
“And I as well.” Lyon turned to go.
“They’re coming, Lyonya,” Ivan said behind him. “In fact, some of them are already here, others on their way. If you’re very clever, and I know you are, you might negotiate a retreat.”
Lyon turned to face him.
His old friend. His mentor. The closest thing he’d had to a father in fifteen years.
“Let the game begin.”
45
Kira held tighter to the handle in the Audi as they hit a pothole.
Lyon spoke from the darkness behind her blindfold. “Sorry. We’re almost there.”
She hadn’t been thrilled about the blindfold, but Lyon had seemed uncharacteristically nervous when he told her he had something to show her. She hadn’t had the heart to disappoint him, although she was beginning to second guess the decision.
She was beginning to feel queasy, something that had been happening more often in the week since the attack. She didn’t know if it was the painkillers — safe for pregnancy, her doctor said — or the pregnancy, but she didn’t want to lose her breakfast in Lyon’s car, especially since she hadn’t yet told him about the baby.
Musa was dead — she’d heard that through Zoya’s grapevine, and Lyon had confirmed it by saying Musa would never hurt her again — but there were rumors of more trouble. Rumors of involvement in the Chicago cell by players in Russia, although Lyon hadn’t told her that himself.
Everything was in flux. She had no idea how he would greet the news of her pregnancy. Better to wait to tell him, let things calm down, see where they stood when the dust settled.
Finally, they came to a stop. The car grew quiet and she heard Lyon open his door.
“Wait right there,” he said. “I’ll help you out.”
She could move on her own now, although she was still sometimes surprised by a rogue jab of pain from some forgotten part of her body, but the blindfold definitely complicated things.
Her car door opened and cold air rushed into the heated interior.
Lyon took her elbow and helped her to her feet. “Come on, I’ve got you.”
He moved her gently a few feet forward and she heard the car door shut behind her.
“Ready?” he asked.