Chapter Twenty-Four

The nose of the kayak ran up on the sand, and Ivy climbed out onto the narrow strip of beach. The early evening sun baked the sand. Heat emanated in waves. This was the hottest day she’d experienced in Palau so far, the temperature over ninety degrees and the humidity at ninety-five percent. She wanted to go back to their cave and swim in the cool waters of their hidden pool.

But she had data to field-check, and after an afternoon full of revelations, she needed to focus on work as she processed her reaction. The readings on this island had been promising. There might be another cave here. That was what mattered right this moment.

Dimitri tucked the kayak in the trees, then together they used branches to erase their trail. It wouldn’t pass close inspection but would do for the cursory glance of a passing kayaker. Thank goodness they could count on the evening rain as they moved closer to Palau’s rainy season.

They slipped into the canopy of the small mushroom-shaped island. Conversation had been strained since Dimitri explained his situation.

He planned to surrender, and she could see no way out for him.

She wanted to build an emotional wall that would make the inevitable somehow acceptable. If only she were a computer, she could build that firewall with code. She knew exactly which commands she’d use. Once it was written, she’d type the final command: RUN. And her heart and mind would be safe.

But no such code existed, because Patrick was a dickhead and she was all too human.

And now here she was, helping Dimitri march toward his death, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. She could take the boat now and head to Koror, and he wouldn’t stop her. She knew that right down to her soul.

Which meant she was committing treason in helping him.

No. The US attorney general ordered me to help him.

Yeah, but helping didn’t include sex. She’d crossed the line when they’d had sex after she knew exactly what he was.

No turning back. The problem was, she didn’t have a map for the road forward either.

Everything was a vicious dead end.

“Thinking about it doesn’t help,” Dimitri said quietly.

She hated the way he seemed to read her mind. “Maybe Raptor could send a team into Russia and extract your sister and nephew?”

He grunted. “You think I haven’t thought of that?”

She sighed. “I suppose you’ve considered everything.”

“Repeatedly. I’m locked in but good. For the record, my sister doesn’t even know where she and Yulian are being held.”

“I might be able to extract that information. If you were able to get online with her again.”

“The dark web—which is how we were able to chat—really doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m familiar with the dark web. There is always a way to force computers to give up secrets. All you need is time.”

“Time is one thing we don’t have. It’s a moot point anyway—Sophia was given access to a computer so she could tell me what happened, but she hasn’t been in touch with me since. I have no way of contacting her. This time, I have to play by my puppet master’s rules.”

She frowned. “Is he here? In Palau? Keeping tabs?”

He shrugged. “I assume so. I wouldn’t know, though. As I said, I don’t know who is running things now.”

“Because the man who raped your sister is dead. You don’t know who took his place.”

“That man was killed years ago. I knew his replacement and was in direct—albeit coded—communication with him until last November. It appears he paid a steep price for my apparent defection. What I don’t know is who replaced him.”

“So it could be anyone.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t suppose he could have been on Liberty the other night?”

“No way. I’m already doing his dirty work. He wouldn’t risk himself that way.”

“Who do you think the Russian was, then?”

He shrugged. “Probably one of the mafiosi who sold old Soviet weapons to your ex.”

“He said ‘underestimate the Hammer, and you’re dead.’ Who—or what—is the Hammer? Could that be your new boss?”

“It’s possible. It also could be a reference to the old Soviet Union, or a code name for someone in his organization. The Russian wanted to take Liberty. Maybe he had orders from someone higher up—the Hammer—to take the boat.”

“I suppose we’ll never know.”

It was a good reminder that Patrick’s former allies were still searching for her and CAM, and she was exposed away from their safe haven. She cleared her throat. “Let’s go. I need botanical samples for teaching CAM the signatures, and I want to see if there’s a cave in the northwest quadrant.”

Now he’d out-and-out lied when he could have told her the truth, but he’d long since passed the point of no return. They had to work together to find the magic elixir so she could click her heels and go back to DC. The truth about his other work for the GRU would only turn her against him.

Jesus, why couldn’t the Russians have held on to their damn high-tech toy? He suspected his mysterious new boss was the dumbass who let the AUUV slip from his fingers, hence the high pressure on Dimitri to recover it at all costs.

He followed Ivy through the thick vegetation that covered the limestone island, watching the sway of her ass as she climbed the steep hillside.

“Careful,” she said, pointing to a nearby tree. “That’s poison tree, and the trunk is coated with sap.”

He paused and studied the tree. He’d heard of poison tree but hadn’t come across one until now—at least not knowingly. He’d never suffered a rash and so assumed he’d been lucky, but now he realized he had come into contact with a few—but they hadn’t been weeping sap like this tree.

“The problem is the sap?” he asked.

She nodded. “The leaves can trigger a rash—like poison oak or ivy—I hear you don’t want to stand under one in the rain. But the sap is much worse. Contact with the sap can lead to blisters. Bad ones. Often like a second-degree burn.”

All at once, his body flooded with adrenaline. “The sap causes burns? Real, actual, second-degree burns?”

“So I hear.”

“Sonofabitch,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

“The guy who stole the AUUV—he had what looked like first- and second-degree burns over seventy percent of his body. It’s believed the burns killed him.”

“Well, he was tortured, right?”

“He was, but burns like that…that’s not a way to get information. Waterboarding. Starvation. Sleep deprivation. Tried and true methods that cause suffering but don’t tip the scale toward actually dying. The guy was burned—and my source said his interrogators claimed they didn’t do it.”

“They could just as easily be lying to cover their asses.”

“That was the consensus. When he was taken, there were no blisters. So it was assumed his interrogators were overzealous and burned him to get him to talk.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Photos. Video. Reports. I was given everything I’d need to find the AUUV—except money, a boat, and actual mapping equipment. I was expected to come up with those on my own.”

“And so you did.”

“Nothing prepared me for you, for embroiling an innocent in my shitstorm.”

She held his gaze before returning to the key point. “Poison tree doesn’t kill. It’s a rash that blisters, like poison oak.”

“A severe reaction combined with torture? The stress alone could overload a heart. Best speculation, the poor guy went into cardiac arrest, and his interrogators didn’t know what to do. No medics, no one who would recognize the signs that the stress was too much for him. This wasn’t a sanctioned operation. The front office of GRU wasn’t running the show. We’re talking third-string hacks doing damage control. And the poor bastard died.”

“And you think he was exposed to poison tree?”

“It’s possible. If so, the exposure was severe.”

“But the blisters didn’t develop until after he’d been taken into custody.” She frowned. “A severe rash like that means he either brushed up against a sappy tree or was standing under one in the rain.”

“Or he buried the AUUV in the roots. Either he didn’t know what it was, or he knew poison trees would be avoided at all costs, making it a damn good hiding place.”