Page 95 of Darkest Deeds
Ava
Quantico, Virginia
Present Day
“Collusion,”the chief whispers, the impact of the word finally sinking in.
I glance down at my wrists. “The handcuffs weren’t really necessary, but then again, your agents were only following protocol, right, Carl? Well, most of them, at least.”
A bead of sweat trickles down the chief’s temple, and his right eye starts to twitch. For a moment, I almost feel sorry for him, then I remember we’re opponents, not allies. Still, it must be one hell of a hit to realize one of your own hung a price tag on his oath.
“You must be confused. Special Agent Schaeffer was trying to protect you, not hurt you. Gaheris was—”
“Just as guilty,” I finish for him. “Little Ava Chernova. So broken and stupid. Surely, she doesn’t have it in her to orchestrate a plan to simultaneously take out the man paid to blackmail her and the one paid to kill her.” I cock my chin, a smirk pulling at my mouth. “Or does she?”
He doesn’t respond, and I don’t expect him to. There’s not much of a response to being told you’ve been played for the last three hours.
Surprise, Carl. Bet you didn’t see that one coming.
Since Chief Dunning walked into this office, we’ve fought a strategic battle of words. Every time I close my mouth, his opens. The constant back and forth verbal tennis match has exhausted me more than anything I’ve been through in the past week, but I’m not about to forfeit the game now.
“Never tip your hand too early, pchelka. Take your hits and lull your enemy into a false sense of victory. Only then do you reveal your trump card. They’ll never see it coming.”
Three hours have passed since armed agents brought me to Quantico. Three hours since they sat me in this huge office like I had tainted their precious name. Like I was some brainless pawn in a bloodthirsty man’s vendetta. However, in those three hours, I played their little game, sparing no brutal or intimate detail. I’ve remained stoic throughout countless accusations, insults, ridicule, and threats, and not once did I falter.
But it ends now.
“Interesting. You had so much to say during our time together, Carl. I’m curious as to why, suddenly, I’m doing all the talking.”
I have to force myself to stay quiet. Even though my heart is pounding and all I want to do is throw my final card on his desk and dance around it, I keep my face impassive and wait, giving him enough time to tie the knot in the rope and hang himself.
Swallowing hard, he reaches for his neck and loosens his tie. “Did you just confess to double pre-meditated murder?”
“We aren’t talking about me, Carl. We’re talking about what you plan to do about the dirty agent you allowed to terrorize me for two weeks.”
“Miss Chernova…Ava,” he says slowly. “Even if what you say about Agent Schaeffer is true, you have no proof. The man is deceased. He can’t stand trial to speak for himself. I’ll have to write up a report on everything we’ve discussed and let a committee decide—”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Here it is. The moment of truth. I’ve crawled through hell and made it back to the other side. I’m standing on freedom’s doorstep, and all I have to do is push my way through. Nobody knocks in life and wins. It’s take or be taken.
And I’m done talking.
My gaze settles on the phone sitting on the edge of the desk. Unhurried, I lean forward and take it, feeling the chief’s eyes on me the whole time. Scrolling through the apps, I finally find the one I want and hit play. Within seconds, Ethan’s voice fills the office and my trump card drops to the ground.
“What did you do, Ethan?”
“Fuck, Ava, do I have to spell it all out for you? I told Sergei everything, starting from the raid. Of course, I may have embellished somewhat. I explained that after I arrested you, you said you’d give everyone what they wanted if I let you go. I could arrest Sergei, and Dmitry could get control of the Bratva. As far as he knew, I was doing my job, and my conscience got to me, but you and I both know I wasn’t going down for this.”
“You son of a bitch! You know that’s all a lie. You blackmailed me into helping you.”
“So? Who’s going to believe you? You’re a Russian mob whore, and I’m a decorated federal agent. Do the math, sweetheart.”
I playthe entire conversation recorded on my phone from right outside the pocket of my jacket. At the end there’s an eruption of gunfire and screaming and then silence. A shaky breath escapes me as coldness settles in my chest. I turn it off and lift an empty stare at the man sitting in front of me. His chest is heaving unevenly as if he can’t catch a breath, and he seems to have no idea what to do with his hands. First they clench together on the desk, then cup over his mouth, then fold on top of his head.
I’ve rendered him speechless. Then again, having egg on your face will do that to a man.
“The way I see it, you only have two choices, Carl. You can arrest me, and then I go to every media outlet from here to China and sell my story, or you can sweep this under the rug. No one knows what really happened but you, me, and my iPhone, which has a copy just in case,” I say swinging my phone in the air. “As long as you leave me alone, you can make Ethan a national hero for ridding the world of an elusive assassin and two notorious Bratva bosses and collect your commendation for orchestrating the whole thing like a good little boy. It’s your call.”