Chapter Ten
February, Stockholm
Jack could think of a thousand other places he would rather be right now. Instead, because of previous dealings with the attaché to the ambassador, he'd been sent on the mission. He glanced around the embassy ballroom as he sipped his champagne; the attaché was nowhere to be seen. Stifling a sigh, he smiled at his companions and feigned interest in the conversation.
He was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck pricked in warning, but he gave no outward reaction. He looked casually around the room again, his gaze caught by a woman on the opposite side of the dance floor.
She smiled, and Jack fought to restrain himself from immediately moving towards her. He excused himself from the conversation, and slowly made his way around the room, stopping once or twice to greet people.
She waited, holding two glasses of champagne. When he reached her, she handed one to him, then clinked the glasses together.
"You've taken quite a risk coming here," he said.
Irina's smile widened before she calmly sipped her champagne. "I'll take care of the cameras on my way out."
Jack studied her appreciatively; her black dress had one shoulder – covering her bullet wound, he realized – and clung to her curves like a second skin before flaring slightly at her hips. Her other shoulder was bare and before Jack knew what he was doing, he reached up to touch her, running his thumb along her collarbone.
"How are you?"
"Fine," she said. "Where'd you find Aisha?"
"The hospital. She was one of your nurses during surgery." He handed their glasses to a passing waiter, then led her to the dance floor. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer."
She shrugged lightly, then moved closer to him as he slid one arm around her waist. "I understand. But I'll get my revenge on you – Nurse Ratchet has nothing on Aisha."
"I knew she'd take none of your nonsense."
Her eyes twinkled. "She's working for me now. Next time something happens to you, I'll make sure she takes care of you."
He laughed, pulling her even closer. He contrasted the image of her now – alive and beautiful – with the woman bleeding in the Afghani desert, and again felt that same panic well up inside him.
"What's wrong?" Her eyes narrowed in concern.
"I'm just glad you're okay."
She smiled again, briefly, before her expression grew serious. "I've been hearing things."
"Oh?"
"Karkadan is tied to the Covenant, but my source isn't sure how deep his involvement is. I still don't know who the other three people were."
"We'll find them."
She nodded. Then, "Does anyone suspect you're working with me?"
"No."
"Jack—"
"I can watch my own back, thank you very much."
She ran her hand over his back. "And such a nice back it is."
He grinned.
"I miss you." She spoke softly, the words meant only for him to hear.
"I miss you, too."
"Jack, maybe –" She paused. "Maybe it would be safer if you—"
He waited, but she didn't finish her sentence. "If I what?"
She shook her head. "I'll break you out if you get caught."
"And if they caught you when you tried?"
She looked away.
"If they find out – which they won't – if they find out, promise me you'll continue on your own."
She said nothing, and they danced until the song ended. Then Irina brushed his lips with hers and whispered, "I promise."
She smiled, then slipped out of his arms.
Jack sighed and left the dance floor in the opposite direction. He spotted the attaché in conversation with the German ambassador, and went to speak to him. He glanced back once, but Irina was already gone.