"This cabin isn't so bad. But maybe they didn't get to it yet."

The rest of the ship was in as bad a shape as the command center. Plates and cutlery strewn all over the galley. Radio logs scattered in the communications section. Mattresses tossed over every bunk.

"It's terrible. I hate to see it like this," Hannah murmured. "As soon as the team gets here, we'll get it shipshape. This was Conner's last job, and he'd want it tied up and neat the way he liked it. He was proud of his work, and he was so excited about this damn sub. He thought it was beautiful."

"She is beautiful," Kirov said.

She shook her head. "Conner died here."

"The sub didn't kill him, Pavski did."

"I can't separate them right now."

"You can't blame every vessel for the deaths of the people who served on them. It's not logical."

"Screw logic."

He smiled. "Screw logic," he repeated. "Forgive my pragmatism. Remember, I'm only a poor sailor who had to earn his berth on the Silent Thunder by being able to reason and calculate. I find it odd that you can hate the sub and yet be horrified about its state of disrepair."

"Do you?" She turned away. "Too bad. I don't have to explain myself to you. We're on board. Let's get to work. There are at least two areas that Bradworth didn't manage to reduce to shambles."

"I'll take the turbine room." He began to roll up his sleeves. "You should be happy that I relegate myself to the depths. When is your team supposed to get back?"

"Probably not for a few days. I'll call them." She frowned as she watched him go down the passage. "Don't get impatient when you're searching. I don't want the team to have more mess than necessary to put back in order."

"I'm seldom impatient." He didn't turn around. "And if I find something, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Liar."

He laughed. "Then you'd better check up on me, hadn't you?" He disappeared down the stairs.

Find anything?" Hannah knelt beside Kirov's prone body near a large diesel fuel tank.

"Do you think I'd tell you? I'm a liar, remember?"

"How could I forget?" She crawled in beside him. "I drew a zero on the conning tower." She pulled on the panel of a pressure gauge. "How did you get this apart?"

"I told you I knew every job of every crewman. Vladzar took delight in making me crawl in here and run tests on these engines. It was claustrophobic and loud as hell."

"Why? It's a dirty job. After all, you were his stepbrother."

"That's why he did it. I wasn't to be spared. Sergai was always on the straight and narrow." He carefully lifted the plate and shined his flashlight into the interior. "Nothing." He put the plate back and screwed it in place and drew a deep breath. "Let's get out of here. This is a zero too, and I need some air."

"Evidently you still find it claustrophobic. I don't know how you passed the psychological tests that got you on this submarine."

He looked back at her. "I had Sergai to tell me the right answers, of course."

She shook her head. "You told me he was too straight and narrow."

His blue eyes were glinting with mischief as he grinned. "Caught. I stole them from the dean's office of the academy."

"Why would you even want to be on a sub if you suffered claustrophobia?"

"It wasn't an extreme case."

"What about the captain?"

"I think he suspected, but he never confronted me."

"Because he wanted you on the Silent Thunder."

"Yes, I think so. I hope so."

They walked forward three compartments and climbed the ladder to the conning tower. He stood there a moment breathing in the night air. "That's good."

He had admitted to weakness, but that very admission seemed a strength in this moment, she thought. It took an unusual man to accept his own faults with no excuses. And there was nothing weak about his appearance. His dark hair was tied back by a sweat-soaked bandanna, revealing the bold structure of his face. His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows, and his arms were corded with muscle. He looked tough and basic and vaguely primitive.

And… disturbing.

She tore her gaze away from him. "Yes, it is. It's hard to take a deep breath down there."

He cocked his head toward the scaffolding that bridged the gap between the conning tower and the museum's concrete walkway. "Then let's go to the café and get a cup of coffee. I promise I'll clean up in the restaurant washroom so I won't offend you."

She hesitated. Oh what the hell. A cup of coffee was no commitment, and she definitely needed to know more about Kirov. She had been surprised and intrigued by the glimpse of his past he had so casually confided. "You won't offend me. I'm as dirty and sweaty as you are." She smiled. "And I promise I'll use the washroom, too."

Kirov and the woman have left the sub," Agent Teague said when Bradworth picked up. "They've gone up to the café on the pier."

"Tell me about the body language. Chummy?"

"No. Kirov never changes, but I'd say she appears to be distancing herself."

Bradworth wished the hell she'd distance herself right off Kirov's radar. "Keep an eye on them."

"No problem. They're settled in a booth in the café. They don't seem to be anxious to go anywhere else."

"Don't assume anything with Kirov. He likes to run his own show. He'd like nothing better than to cut us out and go after Pavski on his own." He hung up the phone.

If Teague was right about Hannah's attitude, at least Kirov wasn't entirely having his own way with her. Not that he could be assured that coolness would remain intact. Kirov always used every weapon at his disposal, and he was good with women.

It would be okay. He just had to make sure that they were constantly under surveillance until he could remedy the situation.

That's good." Kirov set his cup down on the table and leaned back in the booth with a sigh of contentment. "It's amazing how comforting the small pleasures can be. When I was on the run before I defected, I didn't know whether I'd live through the next day, but whenever I'd get the chance to get a good meal or a shot of vodka or an excellent cup of coffee, it made everything okay for a while."

"Bradworth said you were searching for word of Vladzar."

He shrugged. "There was a chance he was alive. I kept hearing stories that he might be. It wasn't likely, but I had to try to find him."

"What made you give up?"

"I didn't. I still have contacts in Russia who will tell me if they hear anything." He lifted his cup to his lips. "But after the government toppled, and Pavski was put on the undesirable list, the odds were that Sergai would have surfaced if he was still alive."

"You must have cared for him if you risked your life by staying in Russia."

"He would have done the same for me. Family feeling is very strong among us Russians." He met her gaze. "And among you Americans. It's a trait we share. It's clear you loved your brother very much."

"Enough to resent the hell out of you and Bradworth playing games with our lives."

"And so you should. That was a terrible night." He looked down into his cup. "I tried to get to him and save him. I was too late. I had to make a choice."

She stiffened. "Choice?"

"More coffee?" He gestured to the waitress to refill the cups. "We should get back to the sub. I want to spend more time in the turbine room."

"Choice?" She stared at him as memories of that night rushed back to her.

Icy water. Drowning. Drowning.

Stop fighting me. I'm trying to help you.

She whispered. "You were the one who pulled me out of the water that night."

He shrugged. "You were unconscious. You would have drowned."

"So you let Conner die instead."

"I wasn't sure your brother would be killed. I knew you'd die. There are always choices to make in situations like that."