Chapter 12

Farm near Baroun

Czech Republic

Hidden in a hay bale, Jack slept fitfully. The scratchy substance poked through his clothes and worked its way into his shoes. But still, it was warm and relatively soft. With nothing else to do, and nowhere to go, he dozed for hours. Gradually, the throbbing ache of his leg rescinded and he felt better. Lack of food was another matter, but he at least found water in the trough, which he shared with an aloof sheep who eyed him with distrust.

A rooster crowed in the adjacent hen house, and Jack blinked awake. The first rays of light could be seen in the gaps between the wood panels of the barn. He began to debate waiting for Irina (who might well not come at all) and moving on.

Minutes later, his internal debate became moot. He tensed when he heard footsteps crunching in the gravel outside, and then the barn door creaked.

There was the shuffle of feet and whispered conversation. And then, cautiously: "Jack?"

The voice was Irina s, but there were two distinct sets of footsteps in the barn. Jack remained still gathered himself up to strike, or run.

"Jack, I know you re here." Her tone was all business. "I ve brought help." A spate of muttered Russian could be heard from Irina s companion.

Jack assessed the situation. Her companion was male; and though his words were inaudible, the timbre in his voice and the gutturals sounded Slavic. He did not move.

The man spoke up. "I think your bird has flown the coop, Ira."

"No. He s here. See that?" There was movement and the rustle of hay. And then: "Am I going to have to dig through this entire haystack to find you? Of course, if you d rather I leave "

Jack gritted his teeth. With that tone of voice, she was practically challenging him to ignore her. But a rational voice in his mind reminded him that if she had meant to betray him, she wouldn t have returned, particularly after he had given her the artifact.

He raised his arms to dig himself out of the haystack. Finally, he emerged into the dim light, brushing hay off his clothes. He saw Irina and her companion a solidly-built elderly man. Judging by the expression on her face, Irina was more than mildly amused at his predicament. He summoned up what dignity he could; and glared at her.

"Effective," she said. Her lips twitched. "You might want to make your haystacks a little less precise next time, though."

"Noted," Jack said curtly. He ran a hand through his hair to loosen any stray twigs that had taken roost. He also brushed down his clothing, which was still the elderly man disguise he had worn on the train the day before. His leg was holding up satisfactorily, he was able to stand unaided now that he had rested. He fixed a bland expression on his face and eyed the man standing next to Irina.

The older man glanced at Jack. Disdain was clear on his face. Turning to Irina, he said: "So, this is the American?" He shook his head. "We will see how much he is worth, da?"

Jack s eyes narrowed. The accent, the manner the man was Russian. His use of Ira indicated familiarity. Probably a KGB contact. Lovely. Ignoring the challenge, he turned to Irina, "Where is the artifact?"

Irina gestured to the bag looped over her neck. "In here. It s been with me the entire time." She gestured toward the man standing beside her. "This is Gregor Rudenko. He s an old friend. He s agreed to help us. Gregor, this is Jack."

Jack met the older man s eye, and nodded with practiced formality, then turned to Irina. "Thank you for returning. Do you have transportation?"

"I brought a Jeep." Gregor said. "It is hidden in some brush by the side of the road." The Russian gestured at Jack s injured leg. "Can you make it?" He asked curtly.

"Yes," Jack said crisply, and to prove the point, he began walking to the barn door, without aid of the cane he still carried in his right hand. The pain manifested again, though less than the day before, but he did not allow himself to limp.

Irina caught up to Jack and pushed the door open for him. "I m sorry about that," she said quietly. "Diplomacy was never Gregor s strong suit."

Looking straight ahead, Jack said, "If he can provide transportation, then I m not concerned with his social skills."

Jack continued walking the distance to the jeep. The terrain was rough and he nearly tripped on a gnarled tree root. He was glad Irina didn t try to help him, he didn t want the KGB man to see his weakness, if at all possible. They followed a drainage ditch for a hundred feet, and Irina guided him up an embankment, and into a copse of trees where the vehicle had been hidden.

"What is our destination?" he asked Irina.

"Gregor runs an inn in the next town. It s a few miles from here. We can eat and rest there, and head into Prague in the morning."

Jack nodded curtly, and grabbed hold of the jeep roll bar and hauled himself into the back seat. "We ll need new disguises."

Irina settled herself beside Jack as Gregor got into the driver s side of the Jeep. "You can borrow clothes from me," he said. "And there is a little shop down the street from the inn. Anything else you need can be purchased there."

"Thank you," Jack said, though his abrupt tone belied the gratitude of his words. "That will be sufficient." He turned his head and eyed Irina, his eyes cold and hard.

Gregor slammed the pedal to the floor and the Jeep lunged forward. Jack saw Irina brace herself against the back of the passenger seat.

Jack bit back a curse, and grasped the roll bar for self-preservation. The Russian galloped there was no other word for it the jeep across roads and through back trails, bouncing and lurching all the way. They arrived at a rustic village inn, from the back way, of course, and the jeep slid to a park in a mud patch near the rear entrance.

Gregor looked over his shoulder at his two passengers, and grinned. "Now, let s get you cleaned up, and fed."

They piled out of the car. Jack s leg muscles had stiffened during the ride, but he managed to extricate himself from the Jeep with only a little difficulty.

Once inside the inn, Irina set off to find them a room. Gregor led Jack to a table in the middle of the tavern. Jack grabbed a menu from behind the bar looked it over. "Are you open for business?" he asked coolly.

Gregor snorted. "That depends, da? Are you *sure* you want to eat here? I might poison you."

Jack laid the menu down on the table and looked up at the other man. "Unlikely considering you ve already assisted Irina in retrieving me. Why go through the effort of poisoning me when you could have simply told her no ." He bared his teeth in an icy smile.

"Hmmm You make a very good point, American. And yet, I am a man of my word." He gestured expansively toward the menu. "Go ahead and eat. I promised Ira I would get you safely to Prague. And I will. After that .who is to say?" He shrugged.

Jack ordered eggs and sausage, and asked for water. He reached into his pocket and deliberately counted out the price listed on the menu, placing the exact change on the table.

Gregor placed a pitcher of water and a glass before Jack. He looked thoughtfully at the money on the table. After a moment, he took it and headed back into the kitchen. Passing Irina on the way, he said, "At least he has manners." She glared at him.

"The rooms are upstairs. There aren t any on the ground floor. I checked."

Jack nodded, noting that she said rooms , not room . He was initially relieved, and yet felt vaguely disappointed. Frowning, he carefully filled his glass with water. He offered to pour Irina a glass, and she pulled one out from behind the counter and moved to sit across from him at the table. Jack drank carefully; as much as he wanted to down the entire glass in one draught, he knew he d make himself sick if he tried. After taking a long sip, he asked, "Do we have any pain pills?"

She nodded, and slid two across the table to him. "We have half a bottle left."

"Thanks. I ll wait until I get some food," he pocketed the pills and took another long sip of water. "You trust this contact?"

"I do. Gregor s a friend. I ve known him since I was seventeen."

"You have an established ... relationship with him?"

Irina noted the careful way he asked the question. "Jack, he was my combat instructor at the Academy," she replied calmly. "I only saw my parents about once a year. I saw Gregor more than I saw my own father." She struggled for the right words. "He s like family to me."

"A mentor, then. He has affection for you."

Irina smiled. "As I do for him."

Jack took another draught of water. "Former KGB?"

"Yes. And the best knife master I ve ever seen."

"That explains the scar on his arm," Jack replied.

She nodded. "He always used to wear long sleeved shirts to practice. I never understood why." Irina took a sip of her water "One day, I came to class full of energy. I d advanced quickly through the ranks, and was beginning to get a bit full of myself, you see. We faced off to spar, within five seconds he d swept my feet out from under me and had his knife at my throat." Irina pressed the back of her hand to her windpipe briefly.

"So, there I was, staring up at him from the floor. And before he reached down to help me up, he rolled up his sleeve and showed me that scar. "Irina, no matter how good you think you are, there is always someone better." Her eyes crinkled at the memory. "I was a lot less cocky after that!"

"Good advice," Jack agreed.

Irina nodded. "It is."

"You trust him."

"With my life."

Jack nodded and finished his water, then poured another glass. He took a moment to analyze the situation tactically. If Gregor was willing to align himself with Irina s goals, then that was as much reassurance as he could possibly get. The Russian s allegiance was with Irina, and Jack himself was unimportant from Gregor s point of view. Not the most advantageous situation, but one he would accept.

Just then, the man himself pushed open the swinging doors to the kitchen and advanced on their table carrying a large platter of fried eggs and potatoes with sausage. He set the food down in front of Jack and turned his attention to Irina. "Ah! Rushka, there you are. What do you think of my little establishment? Not a bad place, here, eh? If I do say so myself."

"It's lovely." Irina smiled. "Gregor, could you please get me a glass of juice and some toast?"

Her friend frowned. "Only toast? What kind of a meal is that? Irina, you eat like a bird, ever since "

"Gregor!" Irina snapped, her brows lowering.

"Da I know. Juice and toast." He spread his hands in a placating gesture. "I will be right back."

"*Thank* you."

Although he was starving, Jack waited to begin until Gregor s back was turned. He ate quickly, the quality of the meal barely registering in his mind. When he was about halfway through, he stopped and took his pain medication. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a bill and laid it on the table. When Gregor returned with Irina s toast, he said, "I ll take coffee as well."

"Hmfph." Gregor picked the bill up off the table. Folding it into a neat square, he slipped it into his shirt pocket. Without another word, he disappeared back into the kitchen.

Jack continued eating, the only sound in the room his knife and fork as he worked his way through breakfast. When Gregor returned with his coffee, he took it wordlessly and took a sip. It was strong,and good. The set of Jack s shoulder s eased slightly, and he leaned back in his chair.

Irina glanced at Jack, then at Gregor s retreating back. "I ll be right back," she said, and pushed her chair back with a loud scrape. Without waiting for a response, Irina stood and strode after him.

"What the hell was that about?" Irina burst through the kitchen doors, furious.

Gregor turned from the sink, a soapy dish in his hand. "What are you talking about, Ira? Was the food not acceptable?"

Irina s lips thinned, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Cut the innocent act, Gregor. You were never good at it. Why is Jack paying for his coffee?"

The big man shrugged. "I have an establishment to run, Ira."

"Jack is your *guest*."

Gregor set the last plate on the drying rack with a clatter. "Nyet! I do this for you, not him. If it were up to me, Mr. Bristow would be rotting in the nearest jail cell."

Surprise flashed briefly over her features.

"Ah, yes. I saw the morning papers today. Quite an escape, eh? It would be a pity if it were all for nothing."

"Gregor, family or not, if you *dare* "

"Pssht." He waved a hand dismissively. "He d be released eventually say, two or three years."

"How kind of you." Irina said dryly.

Gregor slung the dish towel over his neck. Stepping forward, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

"He s no good for you, Ira. I will not let you sacrifice yourself for him again."

"I don t recall asking for your opinion, Gregor. Either you ll help us, or you won t. You don t like Jack? Fine. No one asked you to. But you *will* refrain from antagonizing him while we are here."

Irina spun on her heel and headed back to the dining area. "Irina!" Gregor called as the kitchen doors slammed behind her. "Don t be an idiot. Remember last time!"

Jack ate thoughtfully, the voices in the kitchen were not loud enough for him to make out the words, but he would recognize the timbre of Irina s aggravation anywhere. He took one of her slices of toast and proceeded to mop up the remnants of his breakfast. By the time Irina strode back to the dining room, he had finished his plate.

"Everything all right?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

Irina flashed him a tight smile. "Fine." She slid back into her seat and picked up her half-eaten piece of toast. "Gregor will drive us to Prague in the morning. I have a safe-house there. We should be secure for a while, at least. It ll buy us some time."

Jack nodded. "I ate your toast."

"I noticed." Her lips quirked upward.

Gregor arrived to refill the coffee pot, and glared at Jack as he did so. He was gone as quickly has he had appeared.

Jack ignored Gregor s ire and sat back in his chair and enjoyed the dark, strong coffee. He mentally planned the rest of the day, including a shower and sleep. His thoughts turned back to his long, bleak night in the barn.

"Thank you," he said. "For coming back for me."

Irina took a sip of her coffee. "I promised I would, didn t I?"

"Nonetheless, I still appreciate it." He drained his coffee cup and wiped his face with a napkin. "What are your thoughts on lying low until tomorrow?"

"It s a good plan. As much as I hate the idea of staying in one place for too long, we both need the downtime."

"Yes. Why don t you get some rest?"

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him critically. "And what about you?"

Jack s face registered mild amusement. "If you must know, my priority is to bathe before I sleep."

Irina chuckled. "Well, unfortunately, the shower is also upstairs. Do you need help?"

Jack pushed away from the table. "I can make it." He proceeded to make his way through the dining room and into the small lobby.

"All right." Irina stood and led the way to the wooden staircase. Despite its appearance, the wood was strong, and Jack had little difficulty. Even so, Irina paused every few steps to make sure he was steady.

The stairwell was little wider than Jack s shoulders, and he slowly plodded to the second floor. He fought back a stab of irritation at Irina s hovering and followed her past the landing and into their room at the end of the hall.