“You can tell me what he looks like.”

“I can do better than that if you give me five minutes.” She grabbed the notepad and pen the hotel staff had left by the phone and began to draw.

“You’re an artist too?” He was starting to feel decidedly like a one-trick pony next to her.

She looked up from her sketch. “Not even close. But when you’re an archaeologist you spend your rookie year sketching what people dig up. I had to go from stick-figures to dimensional perspective in a few short months.” She went back to the notepad and smiled as she drew. “Here.”

She’d drawn a distinctive looking man. Which made his job easier. He memorized the face. “What does he wear?” he asked.

“I’ve only seen him a few times, and each time he was in a well-tailored slim-fitting suit.” She closed her eyes as if to visualize him. “A battered brown leather briefcase, like an heirloom or something. It doesn’t match his dark gray suits and white shirts and dark ties. But he always has it with him.”

He lay back on the bed and tried to formulate a plan. Not much of a plan, but he figured if he staked out the embassy, Peterson would show sooner or later.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and bit back a groan. His back was still sore, and frankly his joints weren’t what they used to be. Sometimes he felt like an old man when he got up. All the training and all the explosions during the past fifteen years had taken an unnatural toll on his body. Nothing a run wouldn’t fix…which would be fine if he were on vacation.

“Let’s see what the news says.” He clicked the TV on, pressing the VOLUME button quickly so it wouldn’t disturb the quiet ambiance between them in the small room. He looked back at her. Why couldn’t they just be simple? A couple who’d met at a grocery store, or through friends, or, fuck, even online. Finding someone like Molly was like finding a unicorn in a boot camp latrine.

“Try CNN,” she said. “I was wondering if Victoria might be on. You know how they plug into an affiliate’s news feed. Her channel is small, I think, but she’s on site, so this might be a much bigger story than fracking.”

He found the CNN World station at the end of what seemed like an endless stream of Greek and other European game show channels. His heart sank a little when he realized that the car bomb was in fact obviously the most interesting thing that had happened that day in Europe.

“Turn it up. I can’t hear.” Molly shuffled forward and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

He obliged.

“This terror attack has sent uneasy ripples through the international diplomatic community. The G20 meetings are supposed to be a major show of cooperation and solidarity, but this year, in Athens, tensions between Russia and the US seem to be escalating in an out-of-control way. Here’s Alex Bernard from the scene of last night’s car bomb attack. What do you know, Alex?”

“Well, Kathy, as you say, tensions are high here. We don’t know much. The Greek authorities are keeping most of the information to themselves. What I will say is that Russian law enforcement have been invited to participate in these investigations.”

“Isn’t that unusual, Alex?” the anchor in the US asked.

“Under normal circumstances it would be strange. But with Greece in debt to the European Union, and with Russia offering, unofficially, to cover their debt, the relationship between the two countries has never been closer. Which is causing uneasy undercurrents with the other EU countries represented here. Also, of course, it was the assassination of the Russian minister earlier this week that started this campaign of terror.”

Molly grabbed his hand and he stroked his thumb over hers. They kept flashing to footage of the exploded SUV.

“Thank you, Alex,” the anchor continued. “And with only just over two weeks to go until the world leaders descend on Athens for the leadership meetings, authorities are looking to wrap up this investigation quickly and bring the terrorists to justice.”

David turned the sound down a little. “I’m going to go out for a while, see if I can find Peterson. Will you stay in the hotel and wait for me? I think breakfast is served up on the eighth floor. But you should stay inside.”

“Sure, I can do that. Nothing like an excuse to lounge around, I guess.”

“Do you need anything?” he asked, as he went into the bathroom.

“Toothbrush and toothpaste. That’s all I need, I think. I have my phone, money, and passport in my purse. The only thing I left in my case was my fancy dress and shoes, toiletries and workout gear.” She shrugged. “Hopefully I’ll get them back at some stage?”

“I’m sure,” he lied as he bent to kiss the top of her head. “Take the battery out of your phone, so they can’t trace you. I’ll be back soon.”

CHAPTER TEN

Soon” didn’t come quickly. Molly had eaten breakfast, showered, changed into her sundress, washed and dried her panties, dried her hair, read the room’s magazines on the balcony, watched some Greek game shows that she made up dialogue for, and napped.

By three p.m., he still wasn’t back. She’d gone a little brown from sitting out on the balcony. She’d watched neighborhood people go about their everyday business, which sometimes included taking to the streets with a blanket filled with items they wanted to sell. The small road below her was filled with neighbors chatting and laying out their wares on the sidewalk.

She was starving. Breakfast had been yogurt and almonds with a few cute little pastries that she’d stuffed into a linen napkin and brought up to the room with her. She’d gone up to the restaurant as David had suggested, only to feel totally exposed. She had no idea who, if anyone, was looking for her, but she suddenly realized that she was scared every time someone looked at her face. Not a comfortable feeling. So she’d hauled her breakfast up to the room, locked the door, and put a chair under the handle. She had no idea if that ever worked, but they did it in the movies, so there was that.

She paced the room, wishing for David to come back. She felt safer with him. Even though she still wondered about him. He’d been perfect so far. He’d rescued her, loved her, and kept her safe. What else could a girl want? She felt everything with him. Maybe it was the situation, the fact that she had been thinking about him constantly for nearly a year, but she swore she was falling in love with him. She remembered what she’d said to her friend when she’d first seen David. “Can I keep him?” But it was clear that he still had a long way to go to feel like he could trust himself again. She wondered if it would be best to keep her distance until he could sort out the demons that seemed to haunt him.

She paced the small room, still wanting him to come back. Up and down in front of the bed. Her worst thought, one she’d been hiding in the back of her mind, was that this danger they were in, it was all her fault. She had dragged him into this, without a thought that he might lose his job, or just that she might fuck up his recovery. As this thought bubbled to the surface, she eyed the door, wondering if she should just leave and throw herself on the mercy of the US authorities. Leave David in peace. God knew he deserved it after all he’d been through in the war.

Up and down. Up and down.

David had been hanging out outside the US embassy in Athens. There was a lot of coming and going. He’d identified two other teams who were also staking it out. Russians, of course, and some other team. Probably the Greeks.

He’d done some shopping—a baseball cap for him, and a sunhat and a white lacy shawl for Molly, as well as the toothbrush and toothpaste she’d requested. Hats and jackets—or in this case a shawl—were the best things to be seen in if you thought there might be a chance of someone following you. Easy to whip off and discard, which meant harder to follow.