Eric Van Lustbader by The Bourne Deception

Author:The Bourne Deception
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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When Arkadin approached Joškar, she spat at him, then turned her face away.

All her four children—the three girls and the dead son—were clustered around her like foam surrounding a basalt outcropping rising from the sea. They, the living, little ones, rose up as he approached as if to protect her from an assault or an unwanted intrusion.

Tearing off one shirtsleeve, Arkadin leaned in and dabbed the blood off her face. It was when he touched the point of her chin to turn her face back toward him that he saw the deep bruises on her face, the welts on her neck.

Rage at Oserov flared anew inside him, but then he noticed that the welts and bruises weren‘t recent—he was certain they hadn‘t been made in the last several days. If Oserov hadn‘t caused them then, in all likelihood, her husband, Lev Antonin, had.

Her eyes met his for a moment, and in them he saw a bleak reflection of the bedroom upstairs, filled with both her intimate scent and her abject solitude.

―Joškar,‖ he said, ―do you know who I am?‖

―My son,‖ she said, hugging him to her breast. ―My son.‖

―We‘re going to get you out of here, Joškar, you and your children. You don‘t have to be afraid of Lev Antonin anymore.‖

She stared at him, as dumbfounded as if he‘d told her she was getting her lost youth back. The crying of her youngest girl brought her around. She looked at Tarkanian who, with her car keys in one hand, had slung Oserov over his shoulder.

―He‘s coming with us? The man who killed my Yasha?‖

Arkadin said nothing, because the answer was clear.

When she turned back to him, a light had gone out in her eyes. ―Then my Yasha comes, too.‖

Tarkanian, bent over like a coal miner, was already carrying his heavy load to the front door. ―Leonid Danilovich, come on. The dead have no place among the living.‖

But when Arkadin took Joškar‘s arm, she snatched it away.

―What about that piece of filth? The moment he killed my Yasha he died, too.‖

With a grunt, Tarkanian opened the door. ―We don‘t have time for negotiation,‖ he said brusquely.

―I agree.‖ Arkadin took Yasha into his arms. ―The boy comes with us.‖

He said it in such a tone that Tarkanian gave him another of his penetrating looks. Then the Muscovite shrugged. ―She‘s your responsibility, my friend. All of them are your responsibility now.‖

They trooped out to the car, Joškar herding her three confused and shivering daughters. Tarkanian placed Oserov in the trunk and tied the lid to the bumper with a length of twine he‘d found in a kitchen drawer so that his compatriot would have fresh air. Then he opened the two doors on the near side, and went around to slide behind the wheel.

―I want to hold my son,‖ Joškar said as she urged her daughters into the backseat.

―Better that I take him up front,‖ Arkadin said. ―The three girls need your undivided attention.‖ When she hesitated, pushed the hair back from her son‘s forehead, he said, ―I‘ll take good care of him, Joškar.

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