Order of Protection Ch. 66-70

She looked over at me, recognition then shock hitting her face as she saw through my disguise. "Бета Полина, ты жив!" (Beta Polina, you're alive!)

"I am. We should get out of view, though."

"Of course, Beta." She opened the door and walked to the elevator, I followed along, careful not to show much to the cameras in case anyone was watching. The Moscow police weren't as advanced in surveillance and facial recognition use as the West, but you never knew who might be watching. Soon we were in her nineteenth-floor apartment and she was making tea. "What may I do for you, Beta? Your photograph and that of your mate are everywhere, you are the highest-ranking members not captured yet."

"Shura is dead," I said calmly. "Alpha Yuri is no longer in control of the Pack. I have a plan, a plan to avenge my mate's death, and for that I need your help. You will help me, won't you Elizaveta?"

"Of course," she said. "I owe you everything." She did, too; her brother had been captured by a Colombian cartel when a drug buy went bad. The Moscow Pack lost their entire team in the firefight and was ready to bomb the safe house to kill them all. Her brother would be collateral damage.

Yuri sent me instead. I tracked him to the safe house being used, then seduced one of the guards in a local bar. He brought me in past the security, no one checking my tight dress for weapons or thinking a tiny thing like me was a danger to anything but a man's virginity. I bathed the house in their blood, methodically working my way through with my knives until they were all dead. I then drove her brother out of there, along with a trunkload of cash and a shipment of cocaine. "How is Pascha doing?"

"Good," she said. "He found his mate last year, a nice girl from Tallin. I suspect you are not here to discuss family, Beta. Please, how may I serve you?"

"I need access to the basement levels of the Moscow Pack House," I said. "Myself and four hundred pounds of high explosives."

"When?" I smiled to myself, most people would ask why or react in shock, but Elizaveta just needed to know how to serve. Yuri had wanted to recruit her to his Pack, but I had talked him out of it. Elizaveta was still a member of the Moscow Pack, but she did my bidding when I asked.

"When the Council chair is there, along with Javier and Patrick. The more leadership, the better," I said.

She sat back, sipping her tea. "They are arriving tomorrow. Their will be a celebration dinner with the Pack, and they will be staying late for meetings. The following morning Francois leaves for Paris, but Alpha Viktor and Mischa return to Kstovo late that night."

"Security will be tight."

"Yes, but the Pack will be busy. I am attending the dinner, then at eight the watch changes. I'll be in the security control room until midnight."

"Perfect," I said. I handed her a burner phone. "I will call you on this when I have what I need. I will need your help to access the building and get to the basement. Once I am in place, you need to leave and never come back." I handed her a card, it held an account number. "This will cover your escape. Travel, hide, I don't care, but you can never come back to this Pack again."

She looked down at the card. "I have had an escape planned since Yevgheny died. Do not worry about me, Beta, I will be fine."

"I know you will. This you do for me, it squares our account." She stood and gave me a hug, when I pulled away it was the end of my emotion. "I'll let myself out."

"Good luck, Beta." I walked out the door, keeping my head down as I took the elevator back to the parking level. I still had a lot of things to assemble; I needed a delivery vehicle, uniform and identification. It was going to be tight, I needed to buy the explosives and detonation timer, get them boxed up, and get into the basement before the Kstovo Alpha left the building.

If revenge is a dish best served cold, it is very cold in the Moscow winter. I would bring the entire Pack down for what they did to my mate.

Ch. 68

Jessie's POV

"I sign this and I'm in the clear?"

"Yes, and I recommend you sign it immediately," Charles said. He and I were sitting in a conference room at the US Attorney's offices in Minneapolis. "Mrs. Andrews and her boss have agreed that justice would not be served on balance by pursuing charges. You, John and Patrick will be listed as cooperating witnesses in the Federal investigation into a sex slavery ring. In exchange for reimbursement of search costs and the information you all have provided, and any testimony required at later trials, you three have been granted limited immunity from prosecution."

"What is limited immunity?"

"It means that the acts you have already admitted to are immune from prosecution, but any acts not admitted to as of you signing are not immune. It's a good deal."

I thought about it as my pen hovered over the paper. "What about the war? We blew things up, killed people, hell it was a war."

"That has been hidden from humans, all evidence was removed by Alpha Sven's Pack. The dead will be documented as natural deaths over the next few months, allied doctors and law enforcement will bury it as is our way. You don't have to worry about your acts coming back to you, the Council and the Alphas are on our side."

I signed the paper. The bill for the search operation came to $152,282.87. "Yikes," I said as I looked at the itemized list. "How do I pay this?"

"They accept a cashier's check, Visa or Mastercard," he said with a smile.

I dug through my purse and pulled out the debit card I'd been given with my Swiss account. "I can scorch the hell out of this, I guess."

"Come on, let's take care of this with the clerk then deliver the paperwork to the AUSA." My hand was shaking as I signed the credit card receipt; my mother's entire estate was a fraction of what I'd just paid. In the end, it wasn't really my money, and the fake death kept me alive and gave me a vacation with my mate. We returned to her office, where I thanked her for coming in on the weekend. I was glad I could get this all done so quickly. We shook hands then headed for the elevator.

"Are we still on for Moscow?" I had Skyped with my probate lawyer, Olga Alexandrov, before we left for this meeting. She told me the death of Yuri would clear the way for a hearing on my father's estate. The documents I had were enough, along with the DNA tests, to prove my claim, but I needed to be formally declared a Russian citizen.

"We leave in two hours for Washington, DC. I have an appointment for you at the Russian Embassy. I have to say, the Ambassador was thrilled to hear you were coming in and claiming your heritage. He promised they would issue you a Russian passport within hours." The door opened, and I could see our Pack members waiting on the other side of security. Behind them, a group of reporters, cameras and paparazzi was waiting for me. "Sorry about this. Word got out you were alive, and you must have been spotted."

"Should I say anything?"

"The less you say, the better," he said. "But you can't be seen as hiding, either."

We pushed through the doors, and immediately were surrounded by his people and police that had been called in to assist with crowd control. "JESSIE! WHY FAKE YOUR DEATH?" The man and other reporters were shouting out questions. I put my hand on Charles, stopping and looking at the gathered cameras.

I took a deep breath and tried to smile. "A few months ago, my life was forever changed when I found out the truth as to my heritage. My mother was sweet and innocent, at least until Yevgheny Zubkov took an interest in her and raped her. Instead of supporting his baby, he had my mother killed and I was sent to America for my own safety." I looked around, taking comfort in the people from the St. Croix pack around me. "My father was a vicious mobster, who wanted me dead as well. I never knew him, and I am nothing like him. His brother was no different, putting a bounty on my head so he could take his brother's fortune, an inheritance that is rightfully mine. He tried three times to have me killed, and for my own safety I had to fake my own death. I apologize to those who spent their time looking for me, but it kept me alive and that I will never regret. I have paid restitution for the cost of my search, and the matter is closed."

"Jessie, will you be moving to Russia?"

I thought about it. "I only found out my heritage recently, and I didn't have enough time in my brief visit there to satisfy my curiosity. I plan to visit, but I grew up here and I plan to stay here."

Another reporter pushed forward. "Jessie, how can you accept a fortune from a father who did this to your mother? Isn't the money tainted?"

I laughed. "Money has no inherent morality, it is neither good nor bad. The people who have it can use it for good or evil. It is my inheritance, and I will make it a force for good. Thank you." They continued shouting questions as we walked off, the men making a wedge until we reached the vehicles with the darkened glass and got in. I buckled up as Charles and Stan sat with me. "How did I do?"

"You're a natural, Jessie," Charles said. "You hit all the right themes without saying too much." Our car pulled out, one vehicle ahead and two behind. "Are we headed to the airport?"

"Soon, but we have a stop to make first. You are no longer a college student working tables at a bar, you are one of the richest women in the world. Your wardrobe needs to reflect that," Stan said. "I've made arrangements for a private fitting at Macy's."

We pulled into the parking lot, parking near a freight elevator where a store manager was waiting. "Is this really necessary?"

Charles nodded. "You saw what happened at the courthouse, your name is all over television and the gossip pages. You became rich and desirable overnight, and many will seek to take advantage of that or get close to it. Don't be shocked if some humans try to woo you, either."

I snorted. "I'm mated, Charles!"

"We know that," Stan said, "But right now you're not even wearing a ring. Don't worry, John is having the same fun right now. He's picking up a ring now and we will formally announce your engagement in Moscow when he meets us there. You can get married over there, or when we return."

Such romance.... Not. As a girl, I used to dream of the moment when their love gets on their knees and asks her to marry him, the big wedding I might have with the fairytale dress and the packed church. Instead, I got bitten on the neck while he was banging me into a puddle of quivering limbs underneath him. I reach up and feel the mating scar, smiling to myself. I wouldn't change a thing, and a wedding will only be for the humans since we are already tied together for life.

The doors open, and I am escorted to the manager. "Good morning, Miss Donato. My name is Natalie, and I will be helping you with my assistant Mary. If you would?" A short ride later and we were in a well-appointed room with a couch, bar and an elevated carpet platform surrounded by mirrors on three sides. The ladies were very efficient, taking measurements and then bringing in carts with clothes I'd never dreamed about owning. Dresses I'd only seen in magazines. Lingerie that made me blush but feel so beautiful. An hour later, bags of clothes and shoes were being packed into leather suitcases. I was dressed in a skirt, white blouse and jacket with a pair of Jimmy Choo heels and Agent Provocateur hose and lingerie. "You look amazing, Miss Donato. You make anything I hand you look like it was made just to show you off."

"Thank you, you've been wonderful." She let Stan and Charles in, and I smiled when I saw their jaws drop. We were escorted back to the cars and driven directly to a private jet for our flight to Washington. Along the way, I was briefed by Charles on what to expect at the Embassy.

A limousine with Russian diplomatic plates picked us up and drove us to the Embassy. The door is opened, and a handsome man in his forties, dressed in an immaculate suit, extends his hand to me. "Welcome to the Russian Embassy! I am Cultural Attaché Boris Levtovsky, and I will be your guide tonight Miss Donato, or would you prefer Klishnina?"

I smiled, his English was perfect. "Jessie, please. I haven't known my birth name long enough to respond to Natalya. Спасибо, что встретили меня (Thank you for meeting me.)"

"Я рад приветствовать вас в вашем доме (It is my pleasure to welcome you to your home). You are learning the language, excellent!"

Charles and Stan had come up next to me. "Yes, but I'm not that good yet. May I introduce my foster father, Stan Larsen, and my lawyer, Charles Thompson." They shook hands and he led us inside.

"We will be dining with the Ambassador and some invited guests tonight," he said as we walked into the beautiful building. "Your bags are being brought to the guest rooms, but we have some business to attend to first. If you'll step in here, we will get the photograph and paperwork done for your passport." We stepped into a small office and the clerk greeted us with a smile. I took a photo, and he made copies of my Russian birth certificate and adoption papers. "Your passport will be ready before the dinner. You have dual citizenship now, we would never turn away one born in our country. I would hope you grow to love it as much as I do."

"That's very kind," I said. "I certainly enjoyed visiting my mother's home and town, and I would love to see more of the Embassy if there is time."

"Of course, Jessie. Stan, Charles, would you like to join us?" They did, and Boris was an amazing guide; introducing us to people, showing us the antiques and history of the Embassy, and making us feel at home. All too soon, I had a Russian passport in hand and we were back in our room to dress for dinner.

All eyes turned to me as I entered the ballroom, Charles and Stan at my sides in their tuxedoes. I was wearing a formal ball gown I had fallen in love with at Macy's. It was a coral color gown with a wide fake-diamond band just below my breasts, falling into a mermaid shape to the floor. The top was strapless, the built-in support enhancing my breasts. Paired with matching heels, I felt like a princess as I looked down at the room where the guests were waiting. "Announcing the arrival of Miss Jessie Donato, formerly Natalya Klishnina, and her escorts Mr. Stan Larsen and Charles Thompson, Esquire, of Minnesota."

The guests applauded as we walked down the stairs into the room, and Boris brought us to the reception line. We met the senior staff, finally the Ambassador. "Welcome home, Jessie," he said with a smile.

"Thank you, Ambassador Mendev," I said as I came up from my curtsy. "Boris has been very helpful to me, and I am very happy to have a chance to meet you all and learn more about my original home." The three of us circulated and drank champagne, meeting Ambassadors and VIP's from other countries. It was only a the end that he pulled me aside.

"Jessie, I know your life has changed greatly in these past few months, and it must be overwhelming at times."

"It has been a whirlwind," I said.

"I saw what you said in Minneapolis. I just have to say, you are young, rich and free. Do not dismiss your heritage easily; you are a citizen of Russia as well, and Russia would like you to learn about her before you make decisions about where you will live for the rest of your life. There is so much to learn and experience, and Russia is a better place with you in it," he said. "You have already done so much for us. If there is anything I can do to help you out, please ask."

It wasn't what he said that made me nervous, it was what he didn't say. "Thank you, Ambassador. Your people have been so welcoming, and I'm looking forward to being in Moscow soon."

"You will not regret it. The Moscow Pack will be better off with you at the helm, and your John is a good man. My parents are in that Pack, they have been praying for a leader like you to restore it to its former glory. I can feel your strength, you truly have the Alpha power to do the job. Only you have the heritage and strength to do this, to keep the evil men who rose to power in your father's generation from taking over again. Please, Natalya... take the place you were born for."

Ch. 69

John's POV

I've spent a lot of sleepless nights in uncomfortable places before, but this was by far the worst.

The yappy dogs never stopped barking at each other.

The floor was uncomfortable and dirty.

I was out of communication with anyone, and away from my mate. It was the last part that really got me. I had planned to leave at sunrise with the others, taking a private jet to Moscow, and instead I was stuck here in puppy prison. Patrick, who was supposed to have taken care of all my paperwork, was going to get beaten black and blue the next time we sparred.

"Well, Beta, did you survive the night?" Larry sounded WAY too cheerful.

I growled, he probably enjoyed a huge feast and slept in a comfortable bed. "Barely. Tell me you've gotten everything straightened out and you're coming to spring me from this place." There was no answer. "You are getting me out, right?"

"We ran into a little roadblock, John. When we looked over your papers, we realized the veterinarian had signed your health certificate more than fourteen days before we arrived. It's my fault, really; Patrick told me to make sure I had current papers, and I just brought a copy without checking the date."

This was fixable. "So have Alpha Sven bring Doc along, he's a registered veterinarian too. He signs the papers, and I'm gone."

"Not happening. The only person here is a clerk who takes care of the dogs and answers the phone on weekends. Plus, it appears that now that you are in quarantine, only the Customs vet can allow you in. We even thought of flying you back, but your health certificate would be expired there, too. You'll just have to wait until Monday morning."

This CANNOT be happening. "What about Jessie? She's flying in to Moscow and I'm not there to protect her!"

"She is leaving with Alpha Stan on a direct flight from Dulles to Moscow in a few hours. She'll arrive there about midnight our time. I spoke with the Alpha, he has security arranged on both ends. She made quite an impression last night, I hear. The photos? Oh my Luna, you are a lucky man, but letting all those drunk Russians near her when she's dressed like THAT, probably a good thing you weren't there."

Now I was really pissed. "What do you mean dressed like THAT? That's my MATE you're talking about!"

"Yep, and now you're not so focused on the shitty living conditions you are in now, are you?" Fucker. "I'll show you the pic on my phone when I get there. She went shopping back home, spent a whole bunch of money on a new wardrobe, and she looks like a movie star and she's going to be almost as rich as Oprah. She must have been beating guys off with a stick."

"You know, Larry, your counseling skills leave a lot to be desired."

I felt his amusement. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes or so. I had the chef box up some braised tri-tip, unless you'd rather have Purina One." This went on, me getting more and more pissed, until finally I saw the door open and Larry came through with a stainless-steel bowl and a box. He dumped the food into the bowl and slid it through the opening. I was so hungry I ate it in about thirty seconds flat. "Good boy." I growled at him, still mad at his teasing. "The lady said I could spend time with you, but she can't unlock the gate. I saw a hose by the door, how about I give your palatial digs a cleaning?"

"Do that. While you're at it, shoot some water at those yappy dogs, they kept me up all night." I moved to the front left of the cage, and he mixed soap into a bucket and tossed that through the grates onto the walls. He then used the sprayer to clean as best he could from the outside.