Safe and Sound E-Book

Lucy Felthouse

• Herausgeber: Lucy Felthouse
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Kim is within touching distance of her goal – but is it already too late?

Kim Medhurst, ex-British military intelligence officer turned scientist and climate activist, is in a race against time. With help from her four men, she’s researching how to make the ygrene – the mysterious power source she retrieved from a remote Scottish island – a viable alternative to fossil fuel. An unexpected visitor recently bought them a little extra breathing space, but they’re painfully aware it won’t last forever.

Despite their hard work, the whole thing looks set to crash down around their ears when the greedy megalomaniac they’ve been desperate to avoid shows up on the Greig twins’ doorstep. While Kim and the gang would happily lay down their lives to stop the ygrene getting into the wrong hands, Kim would prefer to steer clear of violence. Their latest visitor claims he only wants to talk, but he’s brought goons carrying hardware, and Kim wouldn’t be Kim without a backup plan.

Will good prevail against evil, or have all the gang’s efforts and sacrifices been for nothing?

Safe and Sound is the third book in The Dreadnoughts reverse harem romance series.

Leseprobe

Safe and Sound

The Dreadnoughts Book Three

By Lucy Felthouse

Text Copyright 2022 © Lucy Felthouse.

All Rights Reserved.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the aforementioned author. This book was created without the use of AI. Scanning by AI for training purposes or derivative works is strictly prohibited.

Warning: The unauthorised reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s written permission.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

About the Author

If You Enjoyed Safe and Sound

Chapter One

Kim Medhurst

Kim gaped at the phone in Taylor’s hand, mouth dry and heart pounding. While she’d fully expected Orlov’s men to show up on Jota’s doorstep at some point, she hadn’t expected the man would send his own son. Or that the son in question, rather than attempting to storm the gates or trying to get in some other way, would simply mooch up, cool as a cucumber, and press the intercom button.

Shock and confusion rendered her incapable of deciding whether Maxim Orlov’s polite and very ordinary arrival was a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, perhaps it meant aggravation and violence were off the table. Maybe discussions and negotiations would be the name of the game instead. God, I hope so. Just because they were ready for and capable of aggravation and violence didn’t mean that was what they wanted. Though it would be a departure from Orlov Senior’s usual form, judging from recent experience.

On the other hand, however, it was possible Maxim Orlov being at the gates was a distraction tactic. The suspicious part of her mind envisioned his goons leaping fences, forcing their way through hedgerows, hustling through the woods, weapons at the ready and drawing ever closer to the house. No, she reminded herself. While the leaping fences and forcing their way through hedgerows weren’t outside the bounds of possibility, if anyone was in the woods, she’d know about it by now, weapons or not. So either the goons remained outside the perimeter of their security measures, or they weren’t here at all.

Chastain clearly had no such doubts. The instant Orlov Junior had introduced himself, Chastain had immediately shoved tactical vests at everyone before slipping into his own. Now he was poised for action, his lips set into a grim line.

The others had put on their vests. All except for Taylor who, to his credit, remained calm as he spoke into his phone, “Aye. I’m aware o’ him. How can I help ye?”

There came a pause, then, “I would rather not discuss this while I am standing out here. May I come inside and talk with you, please?” Orlov, too, remained calm, though she detected a smidgen of frustration in his tone.

The five of them exchanged glances. Kim picked up a ‘hell, no’ vibe from Chastain, Smith and Joshua. Once again, Taylor was the outlier. The difference, of course, being that he could see Orlov on the camera. She slipped into the vest Chastain had handed her, then retrieved her phone and pulled up the relevant feed.

Immediately, it became clear Orlov was alone at the gates. He looked around their age—mid-to-late thirties—was dressed ordinarily and, while it was possible he had a weapon or weapons secreted about his person, he certainly wasn’t standing there ready to unleash hell on them. His body language was pretty relaxed, too. So he was either a superb actor or was genuinely here just to talk. Maybe, just maybe, diplomacy could resolve this situation. Stranger things had happened, after all.

She flicked to the other camera on the lane and soon had eyes on what had to be the man’s method of transport. A sleek, dark-coloured Mercedes sat at the mouth of the lane—possibly he hadn’t wanted to bring the expensive vehicle onto the gravel and risk the stones flipping up and damaging his paintwork. But then, what were a few chips or dings to a man with the money he had access to? He could buy a whole new car without noticing the difference to his bank account, never mind worrying about what a repair bill would cost.

Unfortunately, it had been long enough since Orlov had passed the motion sensor that the light at the end of the lane had switched off again, meaning all Kim was left with was the camera’s night vision capability. Despite the high-end technology, she couldn’t make out whether anyone was in the rear of the vehicle or not—it would have been difficult enough with ordinary windows, but the fact they were blacked out made it impossible. But she couldn’t see anyone in the front either, which suggested Orlov didn’t have a driver with him—he’d made this particular journey by himself. Or he’d driven the vehicle, anyway—there was a chance he was the driver, and perhaps his father was in the back of the luxury Mercedes, poised for the next stage of his dastardly plan. Kim rolled her eyes at her own wayward thoughts. He’s not a bloody Scooby Doo villain. This is real life, not a sodding cartoon. She locked her phone and shoved the device back in her pocket.

“One moment, please,” Taylor said, then tapped the screen, presumably to shut off contact with the intercom so Orlov couldn’t hear their conversation. He donned his tactical vest, then swept his gaze over each of them, before letting it land on Kim and stay there. “Well, what do ye all think? Far as I can tell, the wee fella’s alone and unarmed, and he doesnae look as though he’s here fer nefarious reasons, but we cannae be too careful.” He paused, looked back at Smith, then sniggered. “All right, I take it back. Maybe we can be too careful—a bulletproof man wearing a bulletproof vest is a wee bit of overkill, isnae it? Bloody hell, mate!”

Smith dropped his head to look at his torso, then lifted it, a grin on his face. He shrugged. “It’s so easy to forget about these powers. I haven’t been using them like you guys. Not much call for being bulletproof in Accident and Emergency, even in London—thank God. I’ll ditch it then—no point carrying extra weight just for the sake of it.”

Kim suppressed a smile as he began to manoeuvre out of the vest, amused and reassured she wasn’t the only one experiencing such issues. Then something occurred to her. She held out a hand to Smith. “No, wait.” As they all turned to look at her, she continued, “While I agree a bulletproof man wearing a bulletproof vest is overkill, it’s also sensible in this scenario. Orlov might be perceptive enough to notice he’s the only one not wearing a vest and wonder why. Plus, if something happens and Smith catches a bullet, it’ll look pretty damn suspicious when he hasn’t got so much as a mark on him, won’t it? Unfortunately,” she gave Smith an apologetic smile, “if you want to keep your powers under wraps, it’s probably better to leave the vest on. Hopefully this is all completely irrelevant, but…” It was her turn to shrug.

Taylor tutted loudly and smacked his own forehead with the heel of his hand. “Aye, o’ course! Ye’re right as always, Kim. Christ, there’s always so much tae think about wi’ all this stuff, isnae there? Thank God we’ve got yer massive brain on our side, or I reckon we’d be royally fucked.”

She scrunched up her nose. “Oh, come on. The rest of you aren’t exactly thick. In fact, you’re some of the smartest people I know. Anyway, instead of exchanging compliments, perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand. There’s a young Russian man at the gates and he wants to come in to ‘talk’.” She lifted her hands, palms up, and spread them wide. “What do we do?”

“Put a bullet in his fucking head and be done with it,” Chastain all but growled. His shoulders were hunched, his brow was drawn low and he clutched his firearm, clearly ready to use it at a moment’s notice.

Kim shot him a frown. “Now who’s going for overkill?” she scolded, then shook her head, ignoring the scowl she received from Chastain in return. She sighed, then let what was in her brain spill from her mouth, given the absence of suggestions from anyone else. “For what it’s worth, I wholeheartedly vote against putting a bullet in his head. If he shows himself to be a threat to our safety, then we’ll act accordingly. But, short term at least, I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. We’ll frisk him, of course, make sure he’s not carrying, and we should keep our ears primed for alerts from our phones in case he’s merely here to provide a distraction, but I think we should hear him out.”

She raised her eyebrows and peered at the others, inviting their response.

Smith jumped in. “I’m with Kim. I’m not saying he’s above board, and he could just be trying to play us. But equally he could genuinely have something to say. He might not even be here on his father’s say-so.”

Kim hadn’t even considered that. Silly, really, given she knew better than most that being related to someone didn’t necessarily mean you were of the same mindset. Though if that were the case, then Orlov Junior’s presence definitely brought more questions than answers. None of which they’d discover by leaving him hanging about outside. “Anyone got anything to add? Any objections? Thoughts?” She glanced at the twins, who hadn’t provided any input as yet.

“No’ really,” Taylor said with a shrug. “I cannae help feeling suspicious of the wee fella, but as long as we’re careful, we’ll be fine. It’s not like he can take the five of us out wi’ his bare hands, is it? Not even before we had our powers.”

Joshua nodded. “Aye. I agree. We’ll gi’ him a frisking a prison guard would be proud of, then we’ll hear him out. Go from there.”

“I’ll frisk him,” Smith said, getting to his feet. “If he whips out a gun and shoots me point blank in the face, he’ll be the one who gets hurt. Especially if he’s unlucky with a ricochet.” He grimaced, presumably at the thought of what that scenario could do to a non-bulletproof man, then made for the front door.

“Ye’ll need help wi’ the barricade.” Joshua stood and fell into step behind his friend. “Just make sure ye stay between me and him until ye’ve checked him out. I might have a bulletproof vest on, but if he shoots me in the head, I’m done fer.”

Kim remained where she was, her heart rate picking up pace again as Smith and Joshua headed out to God only knew what. She grabbed the gun on the table in front of her, then pulled out her phone and checked the gates’ camera feed, where Orlov waited, his hands now shoved deep into his pockets and shuffling from foot to foot, presumably to keep warm.

She turned to Taylor. “Let him know someone’s coming, if you would, please.” No sense showing their hand too soon by having her speak to him. Maxim Orlov, while he’d happily given his own name, hadn’t asked who he’d been speaking to, or requested anyone specific. Hadn’t even mentioned Kim. So there was a possibility he didn’t know she was here. Perhaps, to him, this was simply a way of digging for information on her whereabouts. Maybe he planned to offer the others money to help him find her.

Taylor gave a nod, then did as she asked. “Hello? Mr Orlov? Just tae let ye ken someone is on their way tae let ye in. They’ll be checking ye fer weapons first.”

The tinny response came, “All right. That’s fine. I don’t have any weapons on my person.”

“We’ll be the judge o’ that, mate,” Taylor muttered darkly, having closed the app and pocketed his phone. Then, to Kim, he said, “Please dinnae take this the wrong way, but do ye think it might be an idea tae… not hide, exactly,” he fidgeted, his discomfort clear, “but get out o’ sight? And I dinnae mean wi’ ye powers, either, because if ye need tae reappear, that could get tricky. I just cannae help wonderin’ if this Maxim Orlov even knows ye’re here. He hasnae mentioned ye. O’ course, he could just be trying tae lull us intae a false sense o’ security, but I figure, why gi’ it tae him on a plate? At least until we ken why he’s here.”

She smiled softly, unable to summon up any irritation at his protectiveness. It was from the heart, because he cared, rather than because he thought she couldn’t look after herself, so how could she be mad at that? She’d likely say the same, were their roles reversed. “Don’t worry, Taylor, I was just having a similar thought myself, to be honest.”

She paused as something else occurred to her. “Hang on.”

She checked the gates’ camera feed again. Smith and Joshua hadn’t arrived yet, so she had a little time. After switching to the browser, she did a search for Maxim Orlov. Couldn’t hurt to check—he’d been so comfortable giving out his name, despite having to know it wouldn’t exactly be favourable in these parts, that a sliver of suspicion had wormed its way into her brain.

He checked out. Providing the man outside hadn’t hacked the site and inserted his own photo alongside Maxim Orlov’s name and pertinent details, that was. Though he could be a doppelganger, she supposed. She sighed and shook her head, cursing the sliver of suspicion that now refused to let her be. Later she would do a full background check, using sources that couldn’t be interfered with, even by the savviest of hackers. But for now, she had to make some quick decisions. She flipped her phone onto silent mode, no vibration, and stashed it in her pocket once more.

“Okay,” she said, standing and stuffing the gun into her waistband. She pushed her chair neatly back under the table, hoping to give the illusion it hadn’t been used, then grabbed her now-empty beer bottle and put it in the recycling bin—though there were so many bottles littered haphazardly across the table’s surface that removing a single one made no difference whatsoever. “I’ll hide in the pantry and keep the door open a crack, so I can hear everything that’s going on. Taylor, do what you do best, all right? Let him say what he’s come to say, then, if you’re not happy with what you hear, question the crap out of him. Tie him in knots—figuratively, that is—if you have to. And Chastain?” She waited until he met her eyes, then fixed him with an earnest look. “Don’t kill him. Please? Not unless something catastrophic happens that makes it completely unavoidable, okay?”

Chastain scowled, then softened. He held his hands up, his firearm still in his right. “Okay, okay. I promise not to kill him unless it’s completely unavoidable.” Then, after Kim had flashed him a thankful smile and turned to head for the pantry, he added, “Can’t promise not to hurt him, though.”

Certain he was baiting her, Kim refused to rise to it. She carried on walking, and only when she was out of sight, surrounded by tins and packets and the scents of herbs and spices, did she allow her smile to widen into a full-on grin. Chastain could be an arsehole at times—okay, the majority of the time—but the more she’d got to know him, the more she’d come to realise his heart was in the right place. Mostly. Also, his bark was worse than his bite, and despite his fighting talk, he wouldn’t kill someone without provocation.

She just hoped there’d be no provocation. Hoped Orlov Junior was here with wonderful news, some magical solution to their predicament that meant everyone would leave this conversation happy. And in one piece.

Her thoughts flew to the ygrene, sequestered in darkness, much as she was, only a few feet away in the twins’ safe. She considered, and not for the first time, how much trouble such a small lump of matter could cause. Maybe a different group of people would have ditched it by now, deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle.

Not this group of people, though. She and the gang of men—The Dreadnoughts, she corrected herself with another smile—weren’t that easily deterred. All their hearts were in the right place, and their hearts, as well as their heads, were telling them that letting the ygrene go to someone else simply wasn’t an option. The risk of corruption, of violence, of mass death, possibly on a global scale, was too great.

The only course of action that was acceptable to any of them was for Kim to carry on doing her work, seeing this thing through to the end. And if that meant going up against a Russian oligarch and his son, and anyone else the Orlovs brought to their door, then so be it.

She’d never expected this project of hers to become so complicated, so dangerous, but there was no going back now.

It’s a bloody good job this is going to be worth all the hassle, in the end. She hadn’t heard any commotion indicating Orlov had arrived in the house, so she allowed herself a small sigh. I just hope the end will arrive sooner rather than later. For various reasons, she hadn’t made as much progress over the past few days with her research as she’d wanted to. With any luck, Orlov’s visit would be short and sweet, so she could have something to eat then head to bed for a good sleep, ready for a full day’s research tomorrow.

She wasn’t the only one thinking about food. From her position in the pantry, she heard Taylor sigh, too, followed by, “He better no’ be here fer long—we still havenae had dinner.” He snorted. “I’m so hungry that if this wee Orlov fella looks tasty, I may well be tempted tae have a nibble on him.” There came an almighty series of clinks and clanks as one of the men—Taylor, she guessed—cleared the beer bottles from the table and put them on the worksurface.

Chastain huffed a brief laugh. “Just be grateful the food’s in the slow cooker, not the oven, otherwise the only thing on offer would be charcoal. And I think even you might draw the line at that, mate.”

“Aye. I suppose I would,” Taylor replied, his tone wistful. “What’s in there, anyway? I didnae get chance tae ask, since Orlov showed up practically on our tail. It smells good.”

“Beef stew.” Chastain paused. “Hey, the timing is pretty suspect, isn’t it? If you’d arrived in a vehicle, I’d have said it was almost a certainty he followed you. But unless his vehicle is powered by… I dunno, whatever the fuck you’re powered by, or something similar, there’s just no way. It’s impossible. Kim—”

He didn’t get chance to continue, since at that moment the sound of the front door opening and closing, followed by a cacophony of footsteps rolled along the hallway and into the kitchen. Kim tensed, and crept her right hand around to grip her firearm. Even though her conscious mind hadn’t yet decided what Maxim Orlov’s reason for being here was, it seemed her subconscious was gearing up for an altercation. Maybe Chastain’s comments about the timing of Orlov’s arrival had tipped the scales in favour of suspicion.

“Hmph. Looks like the show’s on the road,” Taylor muttered.

“I can’t wait to hear what he’s got to say,” Chastain added. Kim didn’t need to be able to see his face—the disdain dripping from his voice was loud and clear.

She gritted her teeth and mentally willed him to keep his cool. They needed to know exactly why Maxim Orlov had come all this way, and if Chastain went all alpha on him, there was a chance the Russian would clam up.

“Just through here,” she heard Smith say.

Louder footsteps and the rustle of clothing told her the three men had entered the room.

“He clean?” Chastain snapped.

“Yes,” Smith replied, the tiniest hint of exasperation probably only evident to those who knew him. And who could blame him? There was no way he would put the rest of them at risk by not thoroughly frisking the man.

“Good,” Taylor put in. “Glad tae hear it. Now, Mr Orlov,” there came the scrape of chair legs over the floor, “why dinnae ye take a seat and tell us why ye’re here. I’m Taylor, by the way. This is my brother, Joshua. And my friends Aidan and Jason.” He was being almost painfully polite, his tone sickly sweet. It was the sort of voice you might use if you found yourself trapped in a cage with a predatory animal, hoping to charm the creature into not hurting you. Or at the very least keeping it calm until you could find a way out.

She noted that while Taylor had given their first names, he hadn’t mentioned anyone’s last name—though she was sure Orlov would have worked out Taylor and Joshua’s, given the sign for their business at the entrance. He’d likely known all four, anyway, before he even put a toe over the Greigs’ property line.

Kim herself was doing her very best to stay calm. Given she couldn’t see what was going on, it was imperative she heard everything. And to ensure that, she needed to keep her heart rate down—an erratic pulse thumping in her ears was a no go, as was breathing too loudly. The latter being doubly important, in case Orlov also happened to hear her.

“It’s good to meet you all,” Orlov said. The chair legs scraped again, followed by several more—presumably most of the men had taken a seat at the table, though she’d bet her last pound Chastain was still glowering in the corner. “I will cut to the chase, as the saying goes. I believe you gentlemen know Kim Medhurst. I am looking for her, because I would like to discuss with her an item she has recently acquired.”

“Oh?” Taylor said, sounding surprised. “And what might that be?”

Kim smiled, confident Taylor wouldn’t give anything away. He hadn’t admitted to knowing her, or to having knowledge of any item.

Orlov paused. Kim wished she could see him, his facial expression, his body language. But she simply had to trust the others were keeping a close eye on what she couldn’t. They’d all been trained on this kind of thing, after all, just like she had. What she wasn’t sure of was how often they’d had to call it into practice—if at all.

Finally, the man sighed. “Okay, there isn’t time to waste, so I’m really going to cut to the chase now. I believe, no, I know, Ms Medhurst recently came into possession of an energy source of some kind. And I suspect you—and she—are aware my father would also like to possess the aforementioned energy source.”

Shit! Kim bit her lip, rapidly losing the struggle to keep her heart from pounding. Fortunately, the silence in the kitchen was so acute she had no trouble at all making out what Orlov said next.

“The problem is, my father is… shall we say, old fashioned? He sees this item as a threat to everything he has held dear for much of his adult life, and therefore seeks to destroy it. I, on the other hand, want to make sure that does not happen. So I am here to find out exactly what Ms Medhurst has in mind for the energy source and, providing our ideals match up, do everything in my power to ensure she achieves her goal.”

Now Kim fought against jelly-like knees. Maxim Orlov wanted to help her?

Unable to stay silent a moment longer, she burst out of the pantry, drawing five startled gazes.

Chapter Two

Taylor Greig

Taylor recognised even his gift of the gab wouldn’t be able to put a spin on this one. Orlov undoubtedly knew what Kim looked like, so trying to pretend she was someone else was pointless.

Kim herself quickly put paid to any ideas—genius or otherwise—he might have dredged up, anyway. She held her hand out as she approached Orlov, completely glossing over the fact she’d just jumped from a pantry. He suppressed a grin. That’s my girl. “Hi. I’m Kim Medhurst. Call me Kim. Pleased to meet you.”

The smile on her face was polite enough, but the tightness around her eyes told Taylor she wasn’t nearly as pleased as she said she was. In fact, she was full of doubt, but doing an excellent job of hiding it. Certainly Orlov wouldn’t have a clue.

The man in question seemed to shake off the shock of her sudden appearance, then leapt to his feet, took her hand and shook it. “Maxim Orlov,” he said, giving a slight bow. “I am also pleased to meet you.” The epitome of gentlemanly manners. Fucking creep.

Orlov had his back to Taylor, so it was perfectly safe for Taylor to narrow his eyes as he wondered precisely what the wee fella was about. Even if they were to take what he said at face value, there was still plenty which didn’t add up. For example—what did he have to gain from helping Kim with the ygrene in the first place? When you threw in the fact this also meant going up against his own father… well, it just didn’t compute.

There was also a chance this was all some elaborate charade, concocted in order to… do what? Storm the place and rip it apart, looking for the ygrene? Take it by force? Orlov hadn’t known until a few seconds ago Kim was even here, much less the location of the energy source he clearly knew next to nothing about. Unless he’d been lying, of course.

Even if Maxim Orlov was on the level, there was still the matter of his extremely coincidental timing to consider. No, there was something not quite right here, and Taylor wouldn’t rest until they’d got to the bottom of it. He stood as Orlov and Kim seated themselves. “Can I get ye a drink, Mr Orlov?”

“Please,” he replied, seeming to drag his gaze from Kim in order to focus it on Taylor, “you must call me Maxim. All of you.” He glanced around to encompass the others, then back to Taylor. “And yes, that would be wonderful, thank you.”

Any dealings Taylor had had with Russians in the past had involved more fighting than socialising, so he hadn’t the first idea what the proper etiquette was. He shrugged to himself. The man was in Scotland now—he’d get what he was given. “Nae bother. What would ye like? Tea? Coffee? Water? We’ve got a few beers…” He wafted a hand at the empty and half-empty bottles on the worksurface.

“Tea, please.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow. Was he just trying to ingratiate himself with them by pretending he liked tea? Talk about stereotyping. “O’ course. What kind would ye like? We have breakfast tea, earl grey, green, lemon, ginger, camomile…”

Orlov chuckled. “Goodness, you are well stocked.”

With a shrug, Taylor replied, “I dinnae drink any o’ the stuff, except fer breakfast, but we keep it in fer our guests.” The enormous sign on the lane announced the function of this place, so there was no point trying to hide it. The likelihood was that Orlov had already known what he and his brother did for a living before he’d turned up on their doorstep. In fact, if he was even half as smart as Kim, he knew plenty about all of them. He hoped it would soon be time to start returning the favour.

“Breakfast tea is fine, thank you,” Orlov said.

Taylor inclined his head and crossed the room to start making a pot of tea, shooting the slow cooker a longing glance as he did so. At this rate, it’d be less dinner, more midnight snack.

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. While the kettle boiled, he retrieved the biscuits, snagged a couple for himself, and placed the tin on the table. Then he turned back to his task, thankful it didn’t take much brain power, since his grey matter was focussed on the question of whether the Russian man sitting at his kitchen table was friend or foe.

Now she was out of hiding, it seemed Kim was perfectly happy to work on finding out. “So, Maxim,” the brightness in her voice was put on, but convincing nonetheless, “tell us more about what brings you here. I hope you’ll forgive my bluntness, but how is it that you and your father have such opposing views?”

Taylor spun around, mouth full of biscuit, eager to see Orlov’s physical reaction to Kim’s question.

The man stiffened momentarily, his face impassive. Then he broke into an almost chilling smile and shot back, “I am sure you know yourself, Kim, that familial ties do not always equal identical opinions.”

Now it was Kim’s turn to stiffen. Was he generalising, or did he know more about Kim’s past, her relationships with her parents, than she’d told even them? She nodded. “Yes, that’s true. I apologise for making assumptions.”

Orlov gave a careless toss of his head. “No apology necessary. Let’s move on from the whys, anyway. They are not important. What is important is that my father is determined to get his hands on this energy source of yours and destroy it. I am equally, if not more so, determined to ensure it is deployed and producing green energy as soon as possible.”

“And you think you can help with that?” Kim replied, not quite managing to hide the tiny squeak of incredulity at the end of her question.

Taylor realised she hadn’t actually given Orlov any information. Hadn’t confirmed or denied the existence of the ygrene or her part in its discovery. He bit back a smirk, turned and poured the now-boiling water into the teapot as he swallowed his mouthful of biscuit.

“Yes, I believe so.” He paused as Taylor placed the teapot on the table, followed by mugs and the usual teatime accompaniments, then gave a nod of thanks. “But I do not wish to give you the wrong idea. I have no scientific ability whatsoever, nor do I wish to take any…” his brow creased as he cast about for the word he wanted, “esteem away from your discovery and research. I merely seek to assist with the final stages of the project. That is, selling it to the right person or company so it can then be of benefit to the entire planet—if not directly, then indirectly.”

Kim said nothing. Instead she lifted her arm and rolled her hand in a ‘go on’ motion.

Taylor, now back in his seat at the table, watched Kim’s face carefully as he stirred the contents of the teapot, then began pouring into the assembled cups. He recognised the curiosity in her eyes, but it went hand in hand with suspicion. Understandably, she was still wary of Orlov and his motivations. A quick glance at his brother, then the other two men, revealed similar wariness. Chastain remained standing, unwilling to relax even one iota.

Orlov wasn’t stupid. He smiled, murmured a thank you as he took his cup of tea and flavoured it to taste, then said, “You don’t know me, therefore your caution is completely understandable. However, the very fact I am sitting here, weaponless, while the five of you have both body armour and guns, must give you some indication of my honest intentions. After all, any one of you could kill me in an instant if someone attempted to gain entry to this property, long before anyone could come to my assistance.”

Kim remained steadfastly silent.

God, she’s good. She might have burst out o’ the pantry like a bat out of hell, but she’s certainly got her poker face on now.

Equally cool, Orlov took a sip of his tea, then continued, “All right. I see I am not going to get anything out of you until I show my hand.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “The vast differences between myself and my father are what have ultimately brought me here. He is much older than myself, of a different generation, a different mindset. He and his contemporaries have been sitting on enormous oil, gas and coal reserves for much of their adult lives and have therefore lived lives of extreme luxury. They haven’t had to worry about anything for years—decades, even. Before then, many of them, my father included, had also experienced abject poverty and hardship, which I believe drives them to cling tightly to their current lifestyles, no matter the cost.”

He paused for another sip of tea, then took a biscuit from the tin. “Of course, the cost is becoming more and more apparent with every passing day, but we have not seen the worst of it yet. My father, and men like him, won’t live to see the worst of it. Their advancing years, coupled with the money they’ve lavished on cigars and cigarettes, alcohol, food and women, mean they may not even live to see things any worse than they already are—indeed, several of my father’s friends have died in recent years. The rest are fat, drunk and happy, and wish to remain that way for the rest of their days. Unfortunately, in their eyes, the rise of green energy threatens that. But the movement up to now has been slow enough that it hasn’t concerned them too much.

“Now, though, things are different. Your new source is a game changer, could wipe out their wealth in an instant, and it’s got my father scared. And when he is scared, he goes on the offensive. To him, this means protecting his assets, and the way to do this is to destroy your discovery. He is thinking only of himself and the relative short term, because that is all that affects him. He does not care about climate change, about what will happen in years to come. Honestly, I’m not sure he even believes it’s a real thing. He is blinded by greed, and nothing anyone can say will change that. Trust me, I have tried. And, since I failed to change his mind, I was left with no choice but to directly oppose him. Therefore, I did everything in my power to ensure I found you before he did. I may, thanks to my father’s obscene wealth, have grown up in the lap of luxury, but that does not mean I think it’s okay to let the world burn around us for the sake of holding on to that wealth.”

Orlov, unsurprisingly, seemed talked out. He ate his biscuit and drank some more of his tea while the others exchanged glances, expressions of shock, disbelief and yes, still wariness, on their faces.