Chapter 15
Carter
Atlantis Hotel, Washington, D.C.
Eighteen months earlier
Carter woke with a start, as he always did.
He was in a hotel room. An American hotel room.
He let his head fall back on the pillow.
Always took time to adjust to being back in the States, back in his own body.
Today he could wake up as Carter Beck and remain that way.
Next to him, Nika was still sleeping, smudges of black and red makeup on her face and the pillow—and probably his face too, along with other parts of his body.
They shouldn’t have gone there, of course—it would make the process of getting her sorted in her new country that much more awkward—but better to wake up beside her with morning-after regrets than to wake up wondering where the hell in the world she was.
And with the legalities cleared, he’d get to keep his career, even if his Russian alias had been compromised.
A position in some South American or African backwater could still be in the cards.
Not ideal, but it wasn’t a desk job at Langley.
He drove his fingertips along his temples, the pressure countering the pounding inside his head.
It had all gotten fuzzy somewhere between the relief at their safe arrival in the U.S.
and the uncertainty of what came next for each of them—courtesy of a good deal of vodka—a fuck-you to Russia, Nika had said as they’d toasted.
He’d made it clear sleeping together was a one-off—he remembered that much—but there’d be no sneaking out this morning and ignoring her calls.
“Morning, dorogoy,” she murmured, rolling over and skating her hand under the sheets until she found his thigh.
He caught her hand and placed it back on her side of the bed. “Morning,” he said, swiveling and planting his feet on the floor.
The sheets swished and she drew up behind him, threading her hands around to his chest and pressing her body against his back. “Come back to bed. I am not finished celebrating. Ah, I can’t believe I am in America! We did it.”
He stood, found his boxers and yanked them on. Whatever it was she did, she steadfastly refused to tell him. “Nika, no.”
“Oh, come on, we are good together. We will make this work.”
“No, we can’t.”
“Because you are scared. That is normal.”
“You don’t even know me. You know nothing about my life. Hell, I don’t know anything about my life anymore.”
She lay back down and linked her hands behind her head, entirely naked. “I know the person you are. That’s not something you can hide, not when working so closely for four years.”
“And that’s not enough to put you off?”
“I know you better than I have known almost anyone. And I have loved you for a long time.”
He rubbed his eyes with the fingers of one hand. “Nika, no.”
“Time for both of us to move on. We can start fresh, here in America. Together.”
“No, Nika. I’m sorry. If I’d known this was how you felt, I never would have let it go this far last night. I shouldn’t have anyway. I’m glad you’re safe, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need. You can make a good life here, but—”
“Yes, a good life. With you. You need someone who understands you. I understand you.”
“No.”
“We are married now. It is legal.”
“It’s not real, Nika. None of it’s ever been real. You’re married to an alias, not a person.”
“Last night was real. You cannot tell me you didn’t feel it.”
“No, Nika. I didn’t feel it, not like that.”
She pushed herself up and sat on her knees, facing him.
“You are just saying that because you will not allow yourself to feel. I know what this is like—it is what I was like after Yuri died. But that changed. You helped that to change. And I know you have real feelings for me. I can see it in your eyes.”
“I have a lot of feelings for you—”
“You see?”
“Let me finish. I feel responsibility for you. I feel guilty about pulling you into all this. I feel protective of you. I enjoy your company, your friendship. But I don’t feel that.”
“Because your head is clouded by your past. There is something below all that, I have seen it. I saw it last night—it was confirmation of what I have suspected all along. You need to let go of the past, like I did, and this is the kind of opportunity that comes once in a lifetime. I have left behind everything, everyone to come here with you. We have been through so much together, and once the stress of our operation is taken away, you will realize how perfect this is—you and me. I understand you, I understand your job, we can make a good life here. We make a good team, you cannot deny that.”
“It takes more than that. I can’t be with you, Nika. I’ll help you get set up here, we can be friends, but that’s all it can ever—”
“You have to let her go. Move on. Like I let Yuri go.”
“This is not about her.”
“Until you learn to open up to—”
“No! I don’t love you, Nika, and I never will, okay? This was a mistake. I’m gonna take a shower. And then let’s talk about what we’re going to do with you.”
“You make me sound like some pain-in-the-ass chore.”
“You know it’s not like that.”
“Someday you have to let yourself feel things again,” she shouted after him.
As Carter tried to drown his hangover and his guilt in the running water, he became aware of thuds, voices. He shut off the shower. They were coming from inside the room. He looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing more deadly than a hairdryer.
Someone hammered on the bathroom door, and the handle moved. He’d locked it to stop Nika from coming in naked.
“Beck?” A man’s voice. “You in there? Is he in there?”
“Wait, I’m coming out!”
Carter walked out wrapped in a towel, since he had no other option, to find a dozen people in blue FBI windbreakers in the room. Nika was dressed in a bathrobe. Her bra was hanging from a chair. Her panties were strewn on the carpet.
“What’s going on?” he said.
“Sorry to interrupt the celebrations.” Standing by the door with her arms crossed was Silvia Maldonado, one of his trainers from The Farm, now deputy chief of the CIA’s Central Eurasia Division. Next to her was a balding guy in a suit. FBI? “Must have been quite the operation to pull off.”
“What’s this all about? Her papers are legit. If they hadn’t been, we wouldn’t have gotten through immigration last night.”
“Yes, you almost slipped right through. I was surprised to see you’d checked in here under your real name. What were you planning next?”
“Checking in at Langley, like normal. Is there a problem?” He looked at Nika, who was being held by the arm by an FBI agent, her eyes downcast. “I thought this was all sanctioned, above board.”
Silvia stared at him like she was trying to see inside his head. “Sanctioned and expedited in very strange circumstances by someone who can no longer corroborate.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Moscow COS. His body was found overnight in one of our safehouses. Shot dead.”
“What?” He looked from face to face—every one wearing a don’t-mess-with-me expression, except Nika, who was still staring at the floor.
“He was last seen alive the day you left Moscow. Put some clothes on.” She told the agents to take him and Nika in separate cars. “Don’t let them talk. Use handcuffs—if we lose either of them, we might never see them again.”
“What the fuck? Are you arresting us? Whatever’s happened, we had nothing to do with it.”
“You’re not being arrested yet. But you’ll forgive me if I have the utmost respect for your ability to slip away into a crowd—given that I was the one who taught you how. Hence the precautions.”
Finally, Nika looked at Carter, her eyes hooded. Her mouth was shut in a tight line.
She wasn’t surprised by this. She knew.