“Exactly,” I say. “I could disguise myself to look like her.”
Anton smiles with contempt. “Why would you help us?”
I shrug. “Debt repayment.” And more. I have my reasons, but I keep my face carefully blank.
Anton snorts.
“Look,” I say, “take it or don’t. I’m trying to be nice, but I don’t owe you anything. The job with Henderson wasn’t personal.”
At the mention of Henderson’s name, Anton’s face darkens with anger.
“Mina,” Yan says with a warning in his tone, “if we want your opinion, we’ll ask for it.”
“No,” Ilya says, “she’s got a point. Anyway, it’s not like we have a better idea.”
Yan turns on his brother with a cutting look. “Dimitrov will see right through her. She’s not even the same build or height as Natasha Petrova.”
Ilya frowns. “How do you know what Petrova looks like?”
“She’s been in the news enough.” Yan gets up and takes a bottle of vodka from the freezer. “Remarkably, there’s never enough evidence to warrant an arrest, which means ties in high places, such as the government.”
“Some say she’s the president’s mistress,” Anton adds.
Ilya leans forward, his curiosity piqued. “Which president?”
Yan fills their glasses with a shot of vodka. “Some say Russian, some say American, and others say both.”
Ilya whistles. “If the chick is that famous, it will be tough imitating her. Unless the meeting takes place on a video call.”
Yan takes a sip of his vodka. “Then what, wiseass?”
“I offer him a deal,” I say. “Private viewing. Just the two of us. His guards stay outside. Not an unreasonable request, considering how fragile the painting is. Even the carbon dioxide we exhale has a damaging effect on something so old. In the meantime, you’ll be in position.”
“He’s not stupid,” Yan says. “He’ll let you go inside first. The location will be monitored.”
“I can wear body pads and heels. By the time he realizes I’m not Natasha, it’ll be too late.”
Yan toys with his glass. “What about the painting? He’d want to see it before he agrees to a meeting.”
“I have a friend.” I shift my weight. “She makes excellent replicas. It will look real enough on a photo or video. We can fake the authenticity certificate.”
“This can work,” Anton muses.
“No,” Yan says harshly. “It’s too dangerous.”
“For who?” Anton’s tone turns snide. “For your waitress?”
Yes, there is a risk, but only if Casmir smells a rat. “I can pull it off.”
“She pulled off the Henderson job,” Ilya reminds them.
Anton downs his vodka and slams the empty glass down on the table. “I’m in.”
“Me too,” Ilya says.
“Looks like you’re outvoted,” Anton says to Yan.
Yan crumples his napkin in his fist. “This isn’t a fucking democracy. I’m the leader.” He jabs a thumb at his chest. “I’ll decide.”
“Will you?” Anton’s lips quirk. “In whose best interest? Ours or hers?” He gives me a dirty look.
Yan looks at me from under his lashes, his jaw bunching. After a moment, he says, “Fine, but I do the risk control.”
“I can live with that,” Anton says.
Ilya smiles at me. “You’re in, Mina.”
Not moving his eyes away from me, Yan says in a measured tone, “Don’t think for a second this makes you part of the team.”
“I’d never be so presumptuous.”
He lets it go, but I feel his gaze burn into the back of my head when I turn to scrub the pot.
After dinner, Ilya and Anton play a game of cards while I rinse the dishes and Yan packs the dishwasher. My mind is working at full speed. This will indeed be dangerous, but it beats being nothing more than Yan’s new toy. More importantly, this might give me a chance to let Hanna know I’m all right. I hate to make her worry. I also have to warn Gergo. The Delta Force men are dead, but the threat is far from over. If Yan digs a little deeper, he’ll discover my secret. And if he knows Gergo trained me, he’ll ask questions. If I’m to get a message to Hanna and Gergo, I need a measure of freedom—freedom the job with Casmir will win me. Plus, I could always use the money to pay for Hanna’s care.
Drying my hands on the dishcloth, I turn to Yan. “How soon do you want to make a move? With Casmir, I mean.”
He regards me suspiciously. “Soon.”
“My friend will need time to make a high-quality replica. A month, at least.”
“She has three weeks.”
“Impossible.”
He gives me a dark look. “Three weeks.”
“I know where to get quality material for the disguise. If we’re going to make it work, we need the best.”
“Let me know where, and I’ll pick it up.”
“My supplier won’t trust you. He’s right here in Prague. It won’t take me long. I can already meet with him tomorrow.”
I give a start when he yanks the dishcloth from my hand and grabs my wrist. Ilya and Anton look on quietly as he pulls me behind him to the room. The door has barely slammed when he pushes me up against the wall, my wrist still clamped in his iron grip.