“Nika, the work you’ve done here, the risks?—”
“It’s okay,” she said, though evidently it wasn’t. “I understand how it works. And yes, I understood all this when I chose to become involved. It’s just… Back then I did not care so much if I died. Maybe I even wanted to die. But now that it could be a possibility…” She channeled a little more energy into the smile. “Anyway, it does not matter, I do not want to be seen to defect. I must not do this in any way that will raise suspicion, for the sake of my contacts. I cannot be seen to be getting favorsfrom your embassy.” She folded into his side, as if sheltering from the biting northerly. “But I have done the research. With my qualifications, my background, I do not qualify for an American visa as Annika the Moscow tour guide. This must look legitimate, genuine. Something that has come about naturally from this job.” She slid a pointed look up at Carter. “For example, falling in love with my colleague and marrying him.”
His stride faltered. “Nika, we can’t. We would never get away with it.”
She rested a gloved hand on his chest. “We can get away with anything your government wants us to get away with. Please, you must do this for me. You said yourself—you plan to never marry again for real, after what happened to your wife.”
After what happened to your wife. Like the sonavabitch he was, he’d used his wife’s disappearance to earn Nika’s trust, though obviously he’d changed the facts. He’d lost his wife, she’d lost her fiancé, so he understood her desire for something good to come from it, to make Yuri’s death worthwhile. Some bullshit like that.
“I am not asking for a real marriage. You will be free to do whatever you choose. I’m merely asking you to save my life. I will pay you everything I have. I will do anything you w?—”
“Nika, shh,” he said, aware that the birthday girl in the tour group was eyeing them curiously. “I’d do it for you in a second if I thought it would work, and I wouldn’t take a ruble. But it can’t work. It’s not feasible that we could get you a visa so quickly, if at all. That alone would confirm any suspicions the FSB may have. And you know it’s not my call whether the CIA helps you.”
“Butyoucan help me, I know you can. And you are a persuasive person. You must help me.”
As they neared the steps to the cathedral, he pulled her aside and took her gloved hands in his, drawing their chests close.“Nika, you know that if it were up to me, you’d be on the next flight out, but?—”
She silenced him by sliding close, tiptoeing, and kissing him on the lips. He had no choice but to play along, goddammit, feeling awkward as all hell. Rejecting her would create even more of a scene. She released him with a smile that to the outside world might appear as triumph but he knew to be desperation. If she’d been blown, the Russians would never let her leave the country. If they were both caught, he’d likely be tortured before being tossed out on his ass, persona non grata. She wouldn’t be so lucky.
She sank back down, not that there was much difference between Nika on stilettos and Nika on tiptoes. Her eyes shimmered. Twenty feet away, the birthday girl nudged her husband and smiled indulgently, as if to say, “See, I was right about those two.”
“Marry me and take me to America. It is the only way. You know what they do to people like me. What they did to Yuri. Do not leave me to die.”
Chapter 4
Alice
Present day
The chest of the man who couldn’t possibly be Anderson Holt brushed against Alice’s back. “Okay, Alice,” he said. “I’m gonna open this door. But you gotta look cool. We need the kids to say they saw you leaving with your boyfriend. Yourlegendarily sharpboyfriend.”
No one in the world, let alone a teenager, would believe a guy who looked like him was dating her. “Shouldn’t we call the police or … someone?”
He scoffed like she was insufferably naive. “Not until I know more. Act normal, now, for both our sakes. Worst-case scenario, you can tell the cops later that you have no idea what’s going on.”
“Idon’thave any idea what’s?—”
“Though, to be frank, the cops are way down your threat list.”
“The cops are a threatto me? Am I in trouble with the law?”
“Thanks to your moonlighting, we’re on the radar of about every authority in the U.S., and a few in Russia—as well as a few less-official bodies.”
“And where do you come in my threat rankings?”
“Depends.” She tensed. “Hey, I’m messing with you. I’m low. Fifth. Maybe sixth. Ready?”
Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door and led her by the hand through the throng of students, a bodyguard leading a celebrity through paparazzi. She tried to stay close to him, like a girlfriend would, practically tap-dancing in her heels to keep up with his long stride.
“Back in a minute, guys,” she called back, as cheerfully as she could muster. “Work on your scripts.” She glanced up at the security camera along the corridor.
“Don’t worry,” he said quietly, “I’ve taken the system offline.”
“That makes mesomuch less worried,” she said, deadpan.
He laughed quietly as he pushed the door to the boys’ bathroom and coaxed her inside, his hand dropping hers and brushing her lower back again. Two students looked around, one zipping up in alarm. She snapped a palm up to shield her view.
“I can’t be in here,” she whispered, digging her heels into the linoleum.
