"Who's your Russki friend? He doesn't belong here."
"You don't like my singing? It's a good song."
"I don't like Russkis."
Nick emptied his glass. "This Russki earned the right to be here. So why don't you go finish your drink. I'm trying to learn a song."
Two more men walked over behind the first.
"Trouble, Joe?"
"Just someone who needs to leave. You're leaving, aren't you, pal? With your Russki asshole buddy here."
Nick sighed. He stood. Korov swayed a little and stood with him. Lamont stood, his arm still in a sling. Ronnie stood up on his crutches. He held one loose in his right hand.
"You're drunk. Why don't you drop it before you get hurt."
"Oh, how scary," the big man said. "Two cripples, a Russki and an asshole."
He swung. Nick blocked it easily with his left arm and hit him with a hard right twice in the face. He felt cartilage break. The man went backward over a table. His friends came in fast. Korov decked one. Ronnie took out the other with his crutch. Lamont watched. The bar erupted into a brawl.
It took a while to sort out. When it was done, the four of them were on the street. They were told they were no longer welcome at The Point. They were a little worse for wear. Ronnie's shiny new crutch was bent. It made him hobble as he walked.
"I was getting tired of that joint anyway." Lamont's eye was swelling.
"Just like Moscow," Korov said. They walked down the street laughing.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
"What do you think?"
"Wow. This is great."
Selena stood with Nick in the living room of her new condo. Her condo, not theirs. Not yet. She'd had some things shipped from San Francisco. The rest was new. New paintings on the walls, new furniture.
She'd chosen antique rugs with geometric patterns of red and blue and cream. Stylized animals and trees and birds. The kitchen gleamed. A rack of shining pans hung ready over the center island and stove. She'd gone light brown leather for the chairs and couches. A few antiques, flowers. It was comfortable, inviting, a place you could live in and put your feet up. Selena was neat. She wasn't trying for House Beautiful.
"Wait till you see the bedroom."
"Why don't you show me?"
The bedroom was beautiful. A king-size bed with an elaborate headboard, soft pillows, smooth sheets. The Klee hung on the wall over the bed. They undressed. He held her against him. She reached down and took him in her hand. He felt life beating in her chest. Her body was warm. He molded against her, kissed her.
She pushed him down on the bed. She smiled and bent down to kiss him. He ran his hand down the taut curve of her back, over her buttocks. She lowered herself onto him. They made love slowly, taking their time. Afterwards they lay holding each other. She felt his heart pounding, unspoken tension in his body.
"Nice bedroom," he said.
"It's better with you in it."
"Selena…"
She got up and put on a green silk robe.
"I think I know what you're going to say."
She walked out of the room, came back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She got back in bed. They sat with their backs against the headboard.
"So what am I going to say?"
"You're not ready to live together, are you?"
Nick took a glass from her. "No, I guess not. I've thought about it. A lot. At least when people weren't shooting at us."
"Bad joke."
"Yeah." He drank some wine. "I don't think it's a good idea, that's all."
"Neither do I."
"You don't?" She'd surprised him.
"You still aren't over Megan."
"Megan's gone."
"Not in your head, she isn't."
"I don't compare the two of you, if that's what you mean. I don't do that."
"I know. But she's still in there. I can feel it."
"It's just different with you. I love you, but it's different."
"It should be. It has to be. But you have to choose."
As she said the words she wished she hadn't.
"Choose? Between you and Megan? Selena, Megan's dead."
"Yes. She is. So maybe you need to get over it."
"You don't know a damn thing about Megan."
"I know enough to know she's a ghost between us. I know it would be a mistake to pretend she's not there. I know I love you but I need more back. Until you can do that, I don't see what point there'd be in moving in together."
Selena felt herself getting angry. Damn it, this isn't how I wanted it to go.
Nick set the wine on the end table and got up. He began putting on his clothes. He put on his shirt, strapped the shoulder rig on. Put on his jacket.
"I'm sorry. I'm working on it."
"Let me know when you've figured it out." Her tone was bitter. She heard the door close behind him.
Damn it! Damn it to hell!
She refused to cry.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
President Rice looked at Harker and steepled his hands together. He had deep shadows under his eyes.
"The Pentagon?"
"Yes, sir. We went back in. Someone has removed all traces of Black Harvest from their computers. The scenario no longer exists. There's no trail, nothing to suggest it was ever contemplated."
"It could be CYA time on their part. Just in case someone made a connection in the press."
"I don't think so, Mr. President. Black Harvest was buried deep. No one outside the Pentagon could have found it. I suspect very few people over there even knew it existed."
"That is a very disturbing thought, Director."
"Yes, sir."
"It's very convenient, Lodge's suicide." Rice watched her.
"Yes, sir."
"That's all?"
She hadn't told him Hood had killed Lodge. Plausible deniability was sometimes more than a convenient phrase, regardless of the opinion of the media. Rice had created the Project to keep him informed, but in this case it really was something he didn't need to know.
"As you said, sir, it's very convenient."
Rice didn't pursue it. She didn't think he ever would.
"What do you think about Hood as the new DCI?"
That surprised her. "I think he would be an excellent choice, sir. He's up to speed on everything. He's well respected at the Agency. He's one of theirs. The transition would be smooth under him."
Elizabeth had briefed Rice on Hood's suspicions of a wider conspiracy crossing international borders. It hadn't made the President's day. She thought it was probably a factor in Rice's consideration of Hood as the next DCI.
"Director, it seems that every time you solve a problem something else turns up."
"Yes, sir, it does seem like that. I have a very good team. When you turn over rocks, things crawl out."
"I want you to pursue this. This possible conspiracy. You said Dansinger promised Lodge the White House."
She said nothing.
"Even in the current funding climate, that is not an easy thing to do. It takes more than money and influence. You still have to convince the American public."
"Apparently someone believes that's possible, Mr. President. Dansinger and Lodge were ready to kill millions of people to get what they wanted. Whoever is behind this didn't care much about that. I don't think anyone they tried to put in this office would care much either."
Rice rose. Elizabeth stood and waited.
"Find out who they are, Director."
"Yes, sir."
As she left the Oval Office she glanced back. Rice stood at the windows looking out over the White House lawn. Suddenly he seemed much older.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NIINE