Rif finished his final set of one-arm push-ups on the floor of Thea’s hotel room while fending off the affections of Aegis, who kept nudging him. Exercise helped him sift through the facts and figure out what mattered. The Latin texts bothered him. The provocative behavior felt personal. He didn’t dare suggest it to Thea, but he wouldn’t put it past Nikos to orchestrate something like this.
After a long night of drinking a few years back, his godfather had confided in him that after Nikos had returned home from captivity, his behavior had become erratic and explosive. Christos had felt ill-equipped to deal with his son and tried to get him help. Nothing worked. According to Christos, the shrink had seemed ambivalent about his son’s chances of repairing the damage he’d suffered. Meanwhile, he’d warned Christos to expect further outbursts of violent anger as Nikos tried to heal.
Still, no matter how badly her brother acted, Thea couldn’t see the monster inside. Even when he blew up at family gatherings, even the time he had stormed off for hours on Christmas several years ago, she never seemed to change her opinion of him. In her mind, Nikos remained the twelve-year-old boy who had protected her as a child and paid for it dearly. Survivor’s guilt. Nikos’s presence was a constant reminder of what could have been her fate. From his own experiences, Rif could empathize.
He pushed himself off the floor and glanced at his Stocker & Yale P650 watch: 3:00 a.m. Damn, they’d better get some sleep. A last check of his e-mails. He turned to Thea. “A former Legionnaire I knew in Afghanistan is investigating Henri’s background in the Legion.”
She glanced up from her computer, dark shadows circling her eyes. She’d had the same haunted look after Nikos’s kidnapping twenty years ago. She’d been eight, Rif had been seven, Nikos twelve—children caught in a nightmare.
He wanted to comfort her, but that would likely get him the business end of the SIG Sauer he’d procured for her a couple of hours earlier. After the attack in the alley, he wanted them both properly armed. Screw the rigid Greek gun laws.
“You want to talk about what happened in the alley?” he asked.
“Absolutely not.” She started typing, her gaze shifting back to the computer screen.
She was more like dear old Pops than she’d probably admit. Smart, resilient, a survivor. Qualities both father and daughter had. Christos had used them to climb to great heights professionally and personally. He’d been a good godfather and mentor to him, too. In fact, Rif wouldn’t even have been born if Christos hadn’t saved his dad’s life. During the 1974 Turkish invasion of Cyprus, Christos, then a Greek soldier, had found Hakan alone, bleeding out in a barn. Despite being enemies, Christos had helped the young Turk survive, donating his own blood to replenish Hakan’s. Rif didn’t think his father would ever consider that debt paid.
“What about the latest text—any thoughts?” he asked, knowing better than to hope for a glimmer of suspicion about Nikos.
“Kidnappers usually get straight to the point, and the point is usually money or other demands. Waxing philosophical in Latin is an absolute waste of time, which could be deliberate. They might be keeping us engaged while they transport Papa somewhere. Once the story is leaked, it’ll be on every news station, so they’ll want a remote location to hide him.”
“The oil negotiations start in a couple of days. Of the potential scenarios, it seems most likely that someone doesn’t want Christos there.”
“That’s what my gut tells me. Dammit, we took every precaution with Papa—all members of his staff had intensive kidnap-prevention training.”
“This isn’t your fault, Thea.”
A loud knock sounded. He moved toward the door, Glock in hand, but Aegis beat him there. Who the hell was visiting at this hour?
“Thea, open the door.”
Aegis’s tail wagged, but the familiar voice sent bolts of tension ricocheting down Rif’s spine. He released the chain on the door and forced himself to point his Glock downward, aiming at the floor. He couldn’t treat this man as his enemy. Not overtly.
Nikos strode into Thea’s hotel room. His world had turned bright red, mottled with anger, and he struggled to regain control of himself. Aegis’s enthusiastic licks helped ease the pressure in his head, but even the ridgeback couldn’t totally dispel his rage.
He tossed the Greek newspaper at his sister’s feet. Eleftherotypia’s headline read: Oil Billionaire Kidnapped. “When were you planning on telling me?”
The fact that Rif was in her room irritated Nikos even more. Soldier Boy was always hanging off his sister, using any excuse to play the role of protector. But no one cared more about Thea than he did. Their blood bond was stronger than any friendship or past history with Rif.
His sister picked up the paper. “It’s true. Papa has been taken. I was going to call you, but then Rif and I were attacked in a nearby alley this evening. I have no idea how the papers found out about his abduction.”
Nikos inhaled deeply, studying the bruises covering his sister’s neck, her pale skin. She was obviously shaken. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. It took a lot to unsettle his sister. He kept stroking Aegis, soothing himself.