Our Honored Dead (Stephanie Chalice Thrillers Book 4) by Lawrence Kelter Read Free Book Online

eyes sparkled. “Putinka? Very nice. Where did you get that?”
    “I buy it online. I can’t drink the crap they sell in the American liquor stores.” Kozakova broke the seal and poured half a glass for each of them. She lifted her glass and toasted, “ Budem zdorovy.”
    “Yes, he concurred. “Good health.” He took a big swallow and savored the vodka as it coated his tongue and ran down his throat. “This is heaven. It’s expensive?”
    “Expensive? No. It’s half the price of that goose shit everyone else drinks.”
    “So what were you working on?”
    “Security codes.”
    “What kind of security codes?”
    “Better you don’t know.”
    “You’re such a bitch. Who brings you meals when you’re locked away in your apartment like a slave all night?”
    Kozakova gnawed through the pastrami sandwich as if it were kindling being fed through a wood chipper. She looked at him pointedly. “If I don’t tell you, it’s for your own good.”
    “Yeah, fuck you, Anya.”
    She finished the last bite of her sandwich and drained the contents of her glass. “Don’t make such a sad face. I changed my mind; I’ll give you sex.” She stood and walked behind Vetrov. She caressed his neck with her long fingernails. “You showered today?”
    He cursed her with his eyes. “Of course I showered. You think I’m an animal?”
    “Give me a minute, sexy man, I’ll go wash up.”
    Vetrov waited until he heard the bathroom door close before he jumped out his chair. The computer screen was still filled with code. He inserted a flash drive into the USB port and copied Kozakova’s program. He was not her intellectual equal, but like her, he was an engineer. Alone, back in the solitude of his apartment, he would be able to decipher her genius and make it work to his advantage. He withdrew the flash drive just as the bathroom door latch clicked open.
    “I’m ready,” Kozakova called to him. “Come into the bedroom, Marat, and bring the vodka.”
    He slipped the flash drive into his back pocket and buttoned it for good measure. He picked up the vodka bottle and took another drink. He felt himself stir as he swaggered toward her bedroom.

Chapter Twelve
     
    I woke up in a great mood. I was happy. As was recently the case, I was ravenous. Brilliant sunshine streamed through the window, and my lover was lying next to me in bed. The air was filled with the wonderful aroma of Ma’s sauce. They’re not kidding about the appetite thing. I was in my fourth month, and my hormones were out of control. I felt as if I could eat twenty-four hours a day. I still could not understand why I didn’t weigh three hundred pounds. God is good, my friends. God is good.
    It dawned on me (right after I drooled from the aroma of Ma’s sauce) that I didn’t live at home with my mother any longer. Ma’s sauce had an incredible bouquet. I can still remember standing in the kitchen as a child and marveling at the incredible food that she was preparing. It was impossible to forget.
    But if Ma wasn’t in the kitchen, who was?
    I pulled back the sheets. “Huh?” I was wearing a red apron and . . . well, that was about it. I looked around for my slippers, but they were missing. In their place was a pair of cherry red pumps. This was not a modest pair of shoes. They had platforms and spike heels. They were man-killer shoes, the kind a woman wore when she had romance on her mind. I checked the label—they were Manolo Blahnicks. Wow, this really was an outstanding morning.
    I slipped into them and stood up. I examined myself in the mirror. The apron covered my baby bump, but boobs and ass were poking out everywhere. I checked to make sure that Gus was still asleep. He was. Idiot, I thought, do you have any idea what you’re missing? Gus was definitely going to be mad when he learned what he had missed. I was dressed for one thing and one thing only, but as mentioned, the Hunger God was in command, so instead of jumping on Gus and riding him like