“I might be able to arrange something,” Federov said, “but I am powerless in this city now. I don’t live here, and I don’t know the right people. Further, I will be going back to Switzerland very shortly.”
But Guarneri started to laugh. He had a couple of young men in his organization who specialized at such jobs, he said.
“Your men need to be respectful as well as protective,” Alex said. “They should be married men with families and not inclined to socialize.”
“I have the right people,” he said. “They know better than to mix pleasure with business. They can arrange with her a time when she goes out each day. And they will accompany her. Maybe between the hours of noon and three. Then again in the evening when she desires it. They can also inspect her apartment when she reenters to make sure no one is inside waiting.”
“They’ll need to be armed,” Alex said.
“That goes without saying.”
Federov glanced at Janet, then back at Alex. He smiled. “What has this nice young woman done to get in such trouble with so many bad people?” Federov asked.
“She saw something. Or she thinks she did. That’s all I can tell you.”
“You work for a government security agency,” Guarneri said, probing gently. “I would be happy to arrange protection for her. But why can’t the government do it?”
“In this case,” Alex said, flattering them, “I trust you more than I trust them.”
Guarneri’s lips parted, and he flashed his expensive teeth. “Why do you trust me more? That’s a good one.”
“I trust you more, Paul, because you want my help in the future with your Cuban situation. I’m prepared to advise you informally on that, perhaps even accompany you to the island. That’s not something you can purchase or obtain somewhere else.”
She paused and, from his delighted expression, realized that she had pressed the proper buttons.
“Again, I need to maintain certain professional ethics. I won’t tell you how to break the law, and I refuse to advise you how to avoid the law. But I can guide you in ways to attain what you need within the law. That has an extra benefit to you since any profit you might obtain you will not have to hide.”
Guarneri nodded. Contentment came across his face. Simultaneously, a look of amusement went across Federov’s. Janet grinned innocently.
Then, “All right, then. We have an agreement,” Guarneri said. Guarneri lifted his wine glass and held it forward. A moment later, three other glasses clicked with his.
After dinner, they walked in pairs the short distance to the curb, Janet and Alex walking ahead, Federov walking several paces behind them with Guarneri.
“I’ve never been with such dangerous men in my life,” Janet muttered, “and never felt so safe at the same time.”
“Just go with the flow,” Alex said, “and don’t get too used to it. Hopefully, if I accomplish what I want to accomplish in Egypt, you’ll be safe when I return.”
Anthony, the driver, sprang from the car when he saw the young women approaching. He opened the door and ushered them and their escorts into his vehicle. They sat comfortably in the back as Anthony then navigated the traffic to Alex’s apartment building where both women got out.
In bidding each other good night, Federov stepped from the back of the limo and stood on the street with the two women. Guarneri remained in the car. Federov embraced Janet as a new friend. Alex clasped his hand and embraced him in a quick hug also, then turned to go.
But Federov held her arm. Impetuously, he pulled Alex back to him and fully surrounded her with his massive arms. He pulled her into a strong embrace. He planted his lips to hers and gave her a long powerful kiss, one she initially tried to resist. Then, for reasons even she couldn’t explain, she felt a tremor inside her, a feeling she knew she shouldn’t have felt, and her resistance melted. She went along with it. She completely let him have his way until, several seconds later, he drew back from the kiss and released her, astonished, into the cold night.
“See you soon again,” he said.
It took her a second to gather herself. “Soon again. Good night, Yuri,” she said. “And thank you.”
Janet and Alex walked to the doorstep of the brownstone. The limousine stood guard, not moving, till the women were inside.
“I think that big Russian hood likes you,” Janet said on the stairs.
“Much too much,” Alex agreed.
“Is that cool or is it gross?” Janet asked.
“Both.”
Alex stayed over in New York at the apartment on 21st Street. Later the next morning, she slipped off to a small Episcopal church, one she had always liked, near Gramercy Park, to meditate and say a small prayer. She always found churches particularly restful. When she returned to the apartment she noticed that there was a Lexus parked next to the curb in front of the steps to her brownstone.
Alex knew the driver was watching her. He was a rugged-looking guy with a very New York face, about thirty years old.
Just an interested male, she wondered, or something more ominous? This carried an echo of the block surveillance that her apartment building had endured in Washington.
Her hand drifted to her weapon as the Lexus window rolled down. But the man gave her an engaging smile and held up his hands to show that they were empty. He meant no harm. Cautiously, she approached the car.
“Are you Alex?” he asked.
“It depends who wants to know,” she said.
He had a Brooklyn accent so thick she could carve it with a knife.
“I’m Calo,” he said. “I work for Mr. Guarneri.”
“Ah, then I’m Alex.” They shook hands. “Keeping watch?”
“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “That’s what I was told to do. Nice day, huh?”
“Beautiful,” she said.
“Don’t worry none about your girlfriend. I’m equipped. See?”
He parted the front of his windbreaker and revealed a nine millimeter automatic holstered under his arm. The gun had a massive silver frame. A cannon.
“Just don’t get in trouble with the New York cops,” Alex said.
He laughed. “Hey, forget about it,” he said. With his other hand, he reached to an inside pocket. He produced and flipped open a NYPD badge. “I am a cop,” he said. “I moonlight in security and doing bodyguard work.”
“Beautiful again,” she said. “Stay safe.”
“Yeah. You too.”
She took the train back to Washington, arriving in the early evening.
The next morning, she was back in Langley and connected again with Thomas Meachum, the ID expert. From a file in his office, Meachum pulled an assortment of freshly minted new documents, all with the most recent photographs of Alex. On top was a forged Canadian passport in the name of Josephine Marie LeSage. It had been backdated to reflect an issue in 2008. Various travel stamps had been impressed into it from England and Ireland, in addition to Canada.