“This is highly classified, Colonel,” Walker said. “The storm threw our operative’s schedule off, we lost track of him, and he missed a check point. We’d have contacted you sooner if we knew where he was. Fortunately, the Coast Guard picked him up and your office contacted us. Your assistance is most appreciated.”
“Gentleman, may I go now?” Yuri said, edging toward the door. Walker glanced at Colonel Braun.
“Unless you have any objections?”
“I still maintain that he’s a terrorist,” Braun said.
“Colonel, does the name Stanislav Lunev mean anything to you?” Walker asked.
“Soviet intelligence defector, yes.”
“Not just any defector—he was the highest ranking GRU member ever to defect. His claim that Soviet suitcase nukes had already been deployed in the U.S. was true. Our man here is posing as an eastern bloc arms dealer, helping us flush out potential threats to national security. At the same time, he’s taking discovered devices to classified sites for deactivation and analysis.” Walker turned to Yuri. “How’s that going?”
Incredible luck, but what should he say?
“I’m glad to be back on track, sir.”
Walker returned his sharp gaze to Colonel Braun.
“Satisfied?”
“Marginally.”
Eyes narrowed, Braun moved aside, giving Yuri a wide berth. Still incredulous at his luck, Yuri was escorted out of the building by a pair of black-suited men who handed him his wallet, cell phone, fake passports, everything.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Colonel.”
26
AS SHE FELL, THE RAGGED WOMAN neither screamed nor let out any other sound. The laws of physics would try, convict, and sentence her to a watery grave. The angel laws, on the other hand…
Casting discretion aside, Nick flew down, wrapped his arms around her, and whisked her back to the shoulder of the Coronado Bridge’s island-bound right lane.
Astonished, she opened her eyes, and tried to form a sentence.
“What…Who are you? I thought…”
Nick released her and stepped back, still holding her trembling shoulders.
“Easy there.”
“Where did you come from!”
Nick projected the construct of a parked BMW pulled over in the outermost lane. Over his form, he’d constructed a casual pewter-colored jacket over a black T-shirt and a pair of Calvins—zeitgeist and all that rot.
“You’re safe now,” he said. But she shrugged free and tried to shove him out of her path.
“You had no right!”
“I just saved your life.”
“You have no idea—why couldn’t you just mind your own business?” She headed back to the edge, slapping Nick’s arm away when he reached out to stop her. But when she got there, instead of making another attempt to jump she leaned against the lamp post, covered her face, and began to cry. Or laugh, it was hard to tell.
He got close. Another good look at her might shed some light on why he’d suddenly decided to jeopardize his career by saving her.
“It figures I would lose it.” She felt around her neck.
“Lose what?”
“The jade pendant my father gave me when I was little. He got it from the Forbidden City in Beijing.” She looked up, blew a tangle of hair away from her mouth. “Probably worth more than my life.”
“Are you all right?” Nick said.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I just tried to jump from the Coronado Bridge, also known as the third deadliest suicide bridge in the nation.”
“How’d you get up here? There aren’t any pedestrian paths.”
“For a twenty-dollar tip, cabbies don’t mind dropping you off wherever you want, no questions asked.”
“Hmmm.” He gave her a head to toe once-over.
She too looked at herself, her tattered clothes and grimy hands, which she wiped on her pants.
“Yeah, well…I figured blowing my life savings on a cab ride to end my life had a poetic ring to it.”
“Are you going try jumping again, or shall I tie you up?”
“I don’t think so.” She let out a long breath. “Not tonight, anyway.”
Following her lead, Nick exhaled—a most satisfying feeling when occupying a physical form.
“Come, now. It can’t be as bad as all that.”
“How would you know?”
“Tell me.”
She stared wordlessly at him for a good three seconds.
“No.”
“Why not?” he said.
“I’m tired.” True enough. Weariness tinged her voice.
“Of course.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think I could spend another night in the shelter.”
“Say no more.” He gestured to his construct-BMW, gently took her arm, and led her to the passenger side door, which he opened for her.
“A gentleman, no less. What are you, from the last millennium?”
He couldn’t help smirking.
27
JON NEARLY LOST HIS BALANCE when he entered Maria’s hotel room with her lips firmly pressed against his. In the process of steadying himself his left foot hit the door with enough force to shut it.
He found himself suddenly short of breath, his heart racing, his mind in torment. He’d only meant to accompany her to her room for safety’s sake. Now every nerve, every cell in his body screamed, Do what’s natural. It’s the way God created you. You want this. You deserve this!
Maria leaned back and met his eyes.
“What’s the matter, Jon?”
“Nothing, I just…” This was pathetic. He could never do this. It wasn’t fair to Elaine, it wasn’t fair to Maria. It was wrong.
“Maria, I’m really sorry that I…” A sudden wave of regret warmed his face, ears, neck.
“It’s okay,” Maria said. “We’re just two people in need. Two consenting adults.”
Knowing better, Jon turned toward the door. From behind she pressed her warm body against his back.
Pain filled his heart.
Pangs of guilt wrung from the agony of going too far, only to deny the release of the fire he had so foolishly kindled.
No one will ever know…
That voice, those words—he recognized them. They weren’t completely his words. He had slipped into a state of elective moral blindness, but now that he could discern that inner voice intermingled with his own he was able to squeeze his eyes shut and pray.
Dear God, forgive me…
// COWARD! YOU’VE GOT A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG WOMAN STANDING BEFORE YOU! DO WHAT FEELS RIGHT! //
“Jon? Don’t worry, okay? It’s just for tonight. Nothing more.” Maria smiled—which further eroded his defenses. “I’m a big girl and I won’t be coming around messing up your life. One night, then I’ll love you from a distance. I promise. No strings attached.”
// SHE’S YOURS //
Give me strength, Lord.
He turned and gently pushed away.
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” A torturous pause. “I see.”
Jon mustered the courage to meet her eyes.
“This was entirely my fault. Whatever problems I might be having with my wife, this is wrong.”
She was trying not to cry, but he could imagine how humiliating it must be for her to put herself out there only to be rejected.
“You’re right, you’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking.” She sighed. Her shoulders fell. Finally she looked up and put her hand on his face tenderly. “You’re such a good man. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that, you really—”
She pulled him close and pressed her lips against his desperately.