Chapter 8 #2
Markov smirks. “I’d kill for a lot less.”
I snort, but a part of me can’t decide if he’s joking or not.
He steers us to a vacant shop with little seats on a paved patio out front and a small menu. My mouth waters at the smell of newly-baked pastries and the rich, warm scent of fresh-brewed coffee.
“I don’t have any money with me,” I tell him.
He gives me a withering look. “Have you not figured out by now that I’m a very old-fashioned husband, Vera? You won’t pay for anything with me. Let’s get coffee and food so we can head back and get ready before your first session.”
We’re both covered in sweat, and my hair’s a mess, but no one seems to mind. I predictably choose an Americano to his classic black espresso, and we buy a few traditional sweet buns.
As we leave, Markov looks both ways, up and down, practically in every darkened doorway and behind every bush. I’m not sure why he’d think anyone would follow us here, but if they did, they’re invisible.
“Why are you constantly checking to see if anyone’s following us?”
“Vera,” he grunts.
“I know. I know it’s your job, but no one’s here. No one’s followed us.”
“Anyone good at what they do can practically blend into a crowd,” he says tightly. “Believe me, I’m very good at it myself.”
Finally satisfied we aren’t going to be bombed, shot at, or abducted in the near future, we walk back to campus, eating our sweet buns and drinking our coffees. “Tell me about the work you’ll do today,” he says, sipping his coffee. I’ll have just enough time for a quick shower before we meet.
“I’ll have to check back to the itinerary to see what’s next.”
“Can you tell me the gist of it?”
“Of course. How much did you understand of what we discussed last night?”
His brows furrow. “Let’s just say I gathered that you were all scientists,” he begins. God, he looks so adorable when he gives me that look. It’s the only time I’d use the word adorable or cute about him.
I fill him in in layman’s terms as best I can.
“So today could be any of those things. A simulation where we’re in the middle of a war-torn area with a soldier who has just been brought in with life-threatening injuries.
A high-stakes threat where our mock environment’s been hit with a biological weapon.
Or disaster response to a natural disaster and we have to allocate resources and set up triage areas.
Advanced trauma support training. Our training involves everything from staying calm under intense pressure and trauma to learning how to do things like parachute, building shelter to survive, and mental resiliency. ”
“Ahhh,” he says, nodding. “So that’s why you brush your teeth with your left hand.”
I’m not sure why it pleases me so much that he actually connected that or freaks me out that he misses nothing. “Right. Doing small things with a non-dominant hand will help you grow resilience. It’s similar to the whole ice bath thing.”
“Got it.” He shrugs. “Well, I can definitely help you with disaster response and trauma support if you need me to feign a few scenarios. Happy to fuck up that asshole American so you can bring him back to life.”
“I’m not sure that will be necessary, but thank you for being so helpful,” I say as we make it back to campus.
“Stay back when I check things out.”
This time, I don’t push back or argue. It would be stupid not to go along with him, and a moment later, he gives me the green light.
We get ready quickly, but we’re the last ones to arrive. I’m surprised when he actually comes inside with me.
“Irina said I could.”
“Oh, really?” Why is she being so amenable? Then a thought crossed my mind. “Markov,” I whisper. “Did you threaten her?”
His gaze grows thunderous. “No. Do I need to?”
My heart thumps and I shake my head. “No, please don’t.” I glance at the time. I can’t discuss this any more.
Jake smirks at my damp hair and wrinkled top that didn’t travel so well. I kind of rushed in the end, but I figured it would be fine since we’d be covered in a lab coat.
I suddenly hate the way he looks at me, that smug expression on his face, but I quickly forget him when Sophia comes up beside me. “I’m so thankful there’s another woman here,” she whispers. “We’ve made many advances in women in STEM, but you know.”
I do know. We still are very much in the minority, at least in some places.
“I’m a little jealous you’re here with your husband,” she says with a smile. “How did you two meet?”
Shit. I forgot what we decided on. I stare at her and wildly try to come up with a way to change the subject. We said we wouldn’t say it was school, but that we met. . . online dating!
“Oh, we met through an online dating thing,” I finally say. “I avoided them for a long time, but you know. It gets lonely, and those algorithm matches can be spot on.”
I can feel Markov behind me, listening to everything I say.
“Oh, I love it,” Sophia says. “Takes the drama and guesswork out of the equation!” God, if she had any idea. Markov coughs into his hand. I kick him under the table.
Irina and Morozov walk in, so we both stop talking as they lay out our plans for the day.
“Now,” Morozov says, his eyes twinkling.
He’s totally in his element and loving it.
“After basic orientation and the overview of our goals here, we’ll outline the modules we’ll be studying.
We’re bypassing our standard introduction since all of you seem to have such great rapport.
We don’t want to waste time with any of the icebreakers we typically use to warm the team up and will get right to it. ”
Fine with me. I hate that stuff. I’m ready to get busy.
“Great rapport,” Jake scoffs under his breath to me. “Some were accepted because Mommy and Daddy could pay, and the rest got in to satisfy some quota. Not very impressive.”
I press my lips together and don’t respond.
“And which might you be, Vera?” Jake asks, his tone casual but edged with provocation as he leans closer to the lab table, eyeing the vials of biological agents we’ve been given to inspect.
I give him a withering look and turn back to the task at hand.
Markov, who has been quietly observing from a short distance, narrows his eyes, sensing the tension. I shake my head at him. Suddenly, Jake, perhaps to demonstrate a misguided point or to taunt me further, begins to gesture animatedly with his hands, dangerously close to the vials.
“Be careful!” I can’t help but exclaim as his sleeve brushes against a particularly delicate setup.
But before he can finish, Markov intervenes. With a swift motion, he steadies the vials that Jake’s careless movements had nearly toppled. The room goes silent, all eyes suddenly on them.
“Thank you,” Irina says. “You must be more cautious. This isn’t a place for reckless behavior and those of you at this caliber ought to know that.”
With a scowl, Jake gets up from the table and walks away. Markov glances my way, his gaze sharp and protective. My heart beats faster not only from the near-miss but from Markov’s look. He’s here to ensure my safety in every sense of the word.
Wordlessly, he gets up as well and follows Jake.
Uh oh.
I open my mouth to protest but don’t want to cause a scene. My heart, however, hammers rapidly in my chest at the thought of what Markov might be doing.
The rest of the group is occupied with observations, noting things down on their lab sheets, but I’m hyper-focused on Jake and Markov. Markov leans in, washing his hands in the sink while Jake dries his. Jake’s ears are beet red, and he looks like a terrified child.
Oh, God.
They come back and Jake walks to the front of the room, says something in Irina’s ear, then takes his leave.
“Markov,” I hiss. “What did you say to him?”
Markov’s eyes darken when he shrugs, but he responds quietly. “Do not worry. I didn’t overstep.”
“Markov. . .” I give him a pleading look.
Leaning over, he whispers in my ear. “I told him under no uncertain terms what would happen to him if he disrespected my wife again. And then I casually suggested that he wasn’t feeling well and could maybe take a bit of a break from this morning’s rotation.”
My jaw drops even as warmth spreads through me.
He stood up for me.
No one’s ever done that before.
The next second, I realize he just threatened a coworker.
“Markov, this is a crucial lab, though. This is where they decide which of us gets chosen for the leadership roles for the rest of the program.”
Markov only shrugs. “I know.”
“Vera?” Irina says with a smile. “We’d like you to lead our fieldwork.”