Blood Stone

Chapter 1: The Offer

The café in Prague's Old Town had survived two world wars and a communist occupation, but Carmen Ortiz suspected it wouldn't survive the conversation she was about to have.

She sat in the corner booth, her back to the exposed brick wall, watching the door through the reflection in her coffee. The establishment was nearly empty at this hour—just an elderly couple sharing strudel near the window and a young barista who seemed more interested in her phone than her customers. Perfect.

Carmen was thirty-four, with dark hair cut short enough to fit under a tactical helmet and eyes that had seen too much to ever fully relax. Her leather jacket concealed the knife strapped to her ribs, and her boots were the kind you could run in, fight in, or climb in. She'd done all three in the past month alone.

The door opened, admitting a gust of November wind and a woman who looked like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine. Tall, blonde, dressed in a charcoal coat that probably cost more than most people's cars. She moved with the careful precision of someone who'd been trained to notice exits, sight lines, and threats—the same training Carmen had received years ago in places the U.S. government would never acknowledge existed.

"Ms. Ortiz." The woman slid into the opposite seat without offering her hand. "Thank you for meeting me."

"You paid for the privilege." Carmen took a sip of her coffee. It had gone cold, but she didn't let that show. "The fifty thousand in my Zurich account bought you exactly one conversation. Make it count."

The woman smiled, and it didn't reach her eyes. "My name is Ingrid Halvorsen. I represent a consortium of interested parties who wish to acquire a particular item."

"I don't do acquisitions anymore. I'm retired."

"You retired six months ago after the incident in Marrakesh. Since then, you've taken three jobs—the Vandermeer heist in Amsterdam, the extraction of Dr. Kovalenko from Belarus, and the rather spectacular theft of the Qing Dynasty jade from that collector in Singapore." Ingrid's smile widened. "Retirement seems to suit you poorly."

Carmen kept her expression neutral, but internally she was reassessing. This woman had done her homework. The Kovalenko job had been off the books, a favor for an old friend. The fact that Ingrid knew about it meant she had access to intelligence networks that shouldn't exist.

"What do you want?"

Ingrid reached into her coat and produced a slim tablet, sliding it across the table. The screen displayed a photograph of a diamond—but not just any diamond. It was the size of a golf ball, cut in an unusual twelve-pointed star pattern, and even in the photograph, it seemed to pulse with an inner crimson fire.

"The Crimson Titan," Ingrid said. "Four hundred and twelve carats. The largest red diamond ever discovered. Current estimated value: somewhere between three hundred and four hundred million dollars, though the truth is, it's priceless. There's nothing else like it in the world."

Carmen studied the image. She'd heard of the Crimson Titan—everyone in her world had. It had been discovered in a Siberian mine eight years ago and had immediately vanished into private hands, never to be seen publicly again.

"It's owned by Viktor Petrov," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Correct."

Carmen pushed the tablet back across the table. "Then I'm not interested."

"The fee would be twenty million dollars. Ten upon acceptance, ten upon delivery."

Twenty million. Enough to disappear forever, to buy that vineyard in Argentina she'd been dreaming about, to finally stop looking over her shoulder. But some jobs weren't worth any amount of money.

"Viktor Petrov controls half the mineral wealth in Siberia," Carmen said. "He has a private army of former Spetsnaz operators, connections to the FSB, and a reputation for making problems disappear—permanently. Three years ago, a British journalist wrote an unflattering article about him. They found her body in the Thames, and the autopsy showed she'd been kept alive for days before she died." Carmen shook her head. "I'm good, but I'm not suicidal."

"We're aware of Mr. Petrov's... methods." Ingrid's voice remained perfectly level. "That's precisely why we've come to you. You're the only one with the skills and the experience to pull this off."

"Flattery won't change my answer."

Ingrid leaned forward, and for the first time, something genuine flickered in her eyes. "Ms. Ortiz, my consortium has been trying to acquire this diamond for three years. We've approached it from every angle—legal challenges, corporate espionage, even attempting to buy it outright. Nothing has worked. Petrov won't sell, and he's protected by layers of security that would make the Kremlin jealous." She paused. "We need someone who can do what we cannot. Someone who can get inside his fortress and take what we want."

"Why? What's so special about this diamond that you'd spend years and millions trying to get it?"

Ingrid's expression flickered, just for a moment. "Let's just say that some of my clients have personal reasons for wanting to see Petrov lose something precious to him."

Carmen studied the woman across from her. There was more to this than a simple theft—she could smell it. But twenty million dollars was twenty million dollars, and the truth was, she was getting tired of running. Tired of the constant vigilance, the sleepless nights, the knowledge that one mistake would be her last.

"I'll need complete intelligence," she heard herself say. "Everything you have on the mine, the security systems, Petrov's personal schedule, his staff, his habits. I'll need equipment and transport—top of the line, no questions asked. And I'll need to assemble my own team."

Ingrid's smile returned, triumphant. "Of course. You'll have access to our full resources."

"One more thing." Carmen held up a finger. "If this goes wrong, you don't know me. We've never met. And if I find out you've set me up, if this is some kind of trap, I will find you. And what Petrov does to his enemies will seem merciful compared to what I'll do to you."

Ingrid didn't flinch. "Understood."

They shook hands, and Carmen felt the weight of the decision settle onto her shoulders. She'd spent years building a reputation as the best in the business—the thief who could steal anything from anyone. Now she was going to put that reputation to the ultimate test.

She just hoped she'd live long enough to spend the money.