The Romanov Ransom (Fargo Adventures 9)

Sam couldn’t understand a word, but he definitely understood the terse tone. She glanced down at the key in her hand, then closed her fingers around it, saying, “Tatiana’s our concern, not theirs.”

“Give it to him. I trust him to do the right thing.”

It was a moment before she opened her hand, allowing Sam to take it.

The sirens grew closer. “You and your wife should go,” Viktor told Sam. “We can direct the investigation to keep you out of it. Better for you to find answers to help Tatiana than spend hours being questioned.”

Sam took another look around, searching for Guardsmen lurking nearby. No one seemed out of place, the expressions he saw on the faces of bystanders a mix of curiosity and concern. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Viktor, looking paler by the second, nodded, as Felix supported him. “I’ll be in touch. Find that phone,” he said as the first patrol car pulled up. “Get out of here.”

Sam wiped his bloody hand on his pants, took his backpack from Remi, then casually stepped with her into the crowd of onlookers. The two weaved their way through, people parting around them, then pressing together again, unaware they were even involved. As the police were stepping out of the car, they were nearly a half block away, melting into the pedestrians who either weren’t aware what was going on, or had lost interest.

When they reached the corner, Sam stopped. “Tatiana’s phone was sending out a signal from around here.”

“Aren’t those things notoriously inaccurate?”

“It gives the general vicinity. It’s a start. You take this side of the street, I’ll take the other. But keep an eye on what’s going on over there. If anyone looks like they’re coming this way, we’re out of here.”

Sam crossed over as Remi glanced back toward the crowd, grateful that no one seemed to be watching them. When she turned back, Sam was already on the other side, walking along the curb, checking the street and the sidewalk. She did the same, hoping that if they did find it, it hadn’t been run over too many times. After several minutes of searching, she was about to suggest that they call, hoping they might hear it ring. When she looked over, Sam was bending down behind a parked car, picking it up.

“Found it!” he called out. He waited for a car to pass, then crossed back over. The screen lit up when he tried to gain access. It was locked. He glanced down the street toward the hotel, seeing someone pointing their direction. “Time to get out of here,” he told Remi, leading her around the corner, stopping as they came face-to-face with two men, both armed with knives.

47

Sam recognized the man on the left from the alley in Marrakesh. The other, a stranger, leered at him. “I was hoping to run into you again,” the stranger said, his accent reminding Sam of Gustaw’s. “Too bad I missed you on the train.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Sam said, stepping between the men and Remi. No way could he get to his gun before either man threw their knives at him. He angled his body, allowing his backpack to slip from his shoulders, catching the strap with his right hand. “What is it you want?”

“The key,” he said. “Hand it over.”

“And you think I have it?” Sam replied, eyeing the man’s knife.

“The Russian woman told us.”

Sam swung the heavy pack against the robber’s arm. The knife flew from his grasp, striking the door of a parked car, then falling into the gutter.

The second man jumped forward. Sam blocked that strike with his pack, using the weight to push him back.

The first man scrambled to the curb, reaching in the gutter for his knife, as Sam slammed his partner’s head into the vehicle’s hood. The metal dented, and Sam grabbed his collar, pulling him back, swinging him down on top of his partner.

As the two stunned men lay there, Sam took Remi’s hand, leading her down the street. He glanced back, seeing both men trying to pull themselves from the ground.

—

“WHAT WENT WRONG?” Remi asked as she and Sam reached their car.

“If I had to guess, Felix and Nika’s presence at the restaurant.”

“That doesn’t make sense. How would Rolfe or his Wolf Guard even know who they are?”

Exactly what Sam was wondering. One possibility came to mind. “The Guardsman must have been in Kaliningrad. He could’ve seen them at the museum. Maybe he was one of the men who shot at us at the castle.”

“Poor Tatiana.”

“She got the key to Viktor,” he said, checking the rearview mirror as they took off. So far, their assailants weren’t following. “Like he said, a bargaining chip. It worked to get back Zakaria.”

“You think it’ll work a second time?”