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Krakow, Poland
Thursday, 28 January, 5:00 p.m.
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The tracking device imbedded in Ivana's arm made it easier to decide which hotel to book our rooms at. We would stay in Krakow for at least one night. I found it strange that she didn't stay with Piotr but then again, I doubted he had a permanent residence anywhere; not in his line of work. Liam booked us two suites at Hotel Stary during the flight from Moscow, and I had even spent time in the cockpit with Rowan. Perhaps I did overcome my aviophobia.
The hotel itself is best seen in person. I added it to my bucket list of places to one day visit when murder wasn't my reason for travelling. If everything went according to plan, there wouldn't be time to enjoy the spa. Or the indoor pool with its exposed brick walls, which look more like an old bunker or wine cellar.
A knock on the suite's door reminded me why we were here and not home with Ainsley. Liam opened the door, his SIG in hand.
She looked young enough to be my older sister, older than Lizzie, but not old enough to be a grandmother depending on whether Piotr protected his wild oats.
"Your mother said you want to see me." Ivana took a seat in the sitting area.
I joined her on the other loose standing chair, Aidan sat on the chair at the desk, while Rowan and Liam stood with their weapons in hand.
"Please put away your weapons. Ivana is here as our guest." I turned to her, offering my most sincere I'm-not-going-to-kill-your-son smile. "Can we get you anything? Coffee, room service? You must be exhausted after all the connecting flights to get here from the Maldives. I promise not to keep you long."
Ivana studied my face. "I never knew Heather has a daughter. You don't look like her."
"I'm not her daughter."
Ivana laughed, by the sound of it when she wasn't assassinating people or stealing stuff, she filled her lungs with nicotine. "You play her games. Even though you don't have her brown eyes, the same emotion swirls in yours. What do you want? I don't know what to call you, and I know you won't give me your real names. Even though we technically work for the same organisation." She crossed her legs and placed her hands on her lap.
"You can call me Kelly; it's the name I gave your son."
If I hadn't studied her every move I would've missed it. Ivana brushed her thumb against her stomach, but said, "I don't have a son. Or a daughter."
I showed her my teeth and placed my hand on her forearm. "You do. And for future reference, don't touch your stomach when people mention your son. It's something a woman will notice, especially one you suspect is Heather's daughter. It's an instinctive gesture because of all the times you touched your stomach while pregnant with him. You chose the name Piotr for him, didn't you? Or did Ivar name his son?"
Ivana smiled, shaking her head. Her eyes not filled with kindness. "You're good, I'll give you that, but you're also very wrong. I never had a child."
I stood and retrieved a still taken from the video footage recorded of Piotr's face when he had removed his mask, thinking he would get more from me than a bullet in his head. Ivana stared at it. Emotion played in her blue eyes.
"We can do this the long way or the short way. Heather might have the patience to sit with you for three days; for me, three hours will push it. So, let's do this from the beginning. You had sex with Ivar, got pregnant, gave birth to a son here in Poland, and called him Piotr. A friend of yours adopted him and raised him, but you and Ivar played an important enough role in his life that he got the BSS dragon tattoo."
I held up another photo for her; one of Piotr's right hand. "Perhaps you should've told him not to get something this recognisable on his hand." If not for a sleeve covering my tattoo, I wouldn't have been so cocky.
"I don't understand what you're trying to get at. The man in the photo isn't my son." Ivana rested her elbows on the chair's leather armrests. Forced boredom visible on her face, but I saw beyond the mask.
Aidan handed her the DNA results. He told her about the cigarette butt and the DNA Heather had collected from her during their three days together. Ivana stared at it and shrugged. "So, what? I gave birth."
"Woman, do you want to see my patience level when we get to three hours?"
She didn't respond to my threat but turned to Aidan when he spoke. "We've linked Piotr to twenty-five murders and one attempted murder. As the murders were committed in various countries, I will see to it myself that he receives the death penalty. Kelly, how are you going to kill him?"
"Blood eagle. The one we did in Moscow this morning was fun." I showed her photos of Jefferson's body before the explosion, but after Aidan and I had performed surgery on him. With a forced grin on my face, I returned my mobile phone to the pocket at my right knee. Why women bother with handbags is beyond me; cargo pants are much more convenient.
A tear slipped down her cheek and Rowan placed a tissue in her hand. She thanked him without looking at him. I waited. She remained silent.
"I'm hungry, let's order room service. Ivana, what can we get you? Seeing as we're going to be here a while we might as well eat, before I slap an old lady. My parents raised me better than that. Don't get me wrong, I might not slap you, but I will shoot you. Think about Piotr and the grandchildren he might give you one day. I don't need to cut him open or crack his ribs and pull out his lungs. Answer all my questions and it won't come to that. But first, we eat."
I ordered room service and left Piotr's photo next to Ivana. She didn't move but glanced at it while we waited in silence for our food. My stomach growling through an interrogation would've come across as amateurish. That's one thing I'm not.