***********************************************************************
Penza
Local Hotel, Room 32
"You know, there's something I need to remember to do when we get back to the States."
"What's that?"
"Kill you slowly and painfully for making me do this," Mercedes's tone of voice, like her mood, had passed mere irritation hours ago and was currently registering somewhere around 'royally pissed off'.
"Aw, come on, CD, it's not that bad. Personally, I think you look pretty good," Harm began reasonably.
"You would," she muttered disgustedly.
"Besides," Harm continued, "Renee dresses-- er, dressed like that all the time," he added, then stopped at the look she was giving him. "What?"
"I'm trying to decide whether to inform you how moronic and insulting that comment was, or just cut to the chase and beat you to a pulp."
"Mercedes! What the hell is the big deal?" Harm said, exasperated.
"It's just some clothes and a little make-up."
"First," she said, ticking off the points on her now-fire-engine-red lacquered nails, "it is *not* *just* some clothes and make up. I look like a Moscow hooker, and if I put even another molecule of mascara on I won't be able to lift my eyelids. Second, you are seriously warped if you think there is nothing wrong with the way I look. And third, while I'm perfectly willing to play up this ruse, you can't expect me not to feel a little irritated and degraded by being forced into a stereotype I've had to bust my ass for years in two different professions to get around," she finished.
As was her gift, his cousin had just pointed out every flaw in his idea and made him feel like a total heel to boot with a short but succinct diatribe. Damn. He glanced over the 'disguise' he'd planned for her, taking in the high, high heels, short skirt and low cut blouse, and the overdone hair and makeup. He sighed.... she did have a point...his cousin looked like a local streetwalker.
"Harm?"
He looked up at her face, and caught the pleading look in her eyes. Damn, damn, damn. "I didn't realize it was that bad," he admitted. "Go, change. I don't know why I thought you needed all that crap in the first place."
"Well...." Having won the battle, CD could afford to be the gracious victor. Besides, she knew Harm had meant well; he was just being his typically clueless self. "It's not all bad," She added, concedingly. "Let me have a little time to work here, and let's see what I can come up with," she said, making her way to the bathroom.
"Okay, but remember, we've only got 2 hours until we meet Alex."
She gestured in acknowledgement as she disappeared into the bathroom. Tense, impatient, and worried, Harm tried sitting for a while before giving up and returning to pace in front of the window as he had earlier. He wanted this meeting over with, dammit, so he could go get Mac and get them the hell out of Russia. Logically, he'd known there was nothing he could have done at the time except make matters worse, but there was still a small voice in the back of his mind that kept repeating accusingly, "You abandoned Mac, and she's gone."
He wasn't sure he could how long he could keep ignoring that voice. Dammit, he had to, though.
"Well, whaddya think?"
Harm turned around, and his jaw hit the floor. It was some time before he recovered enough to find his voice. "Who are you and what the hell did you do with my cousin?" he managed to get out, all the while still trying to take in the picture in front of him.
The short skirt had been ditched in favor of a pair of soft, well-worn blue jeans that might as well have been painted on. The black heels stayed, but the cheap white low-cut blouse had been replaced with a sapphire blue silk shirt with a few buttons daringly undone. The biggest change, however, came in the face and hair. The paste-thick heavy makeup was gone. Instead, pale porcelain skin was paired with deepest ruby lips and lightly accented eyes.
Many years ago, when both were teenagers, Harm had commented to Mercedes that if she wanted male attention, all she had to do was leave her hair long and loose. Apparently, she'd remembered this well; Her white gold hair fanned back from her face, falling in gentle waves nearly to her waist.
In short, she looked incredible, and Harm didn't doubt Alex Volkonov would be hooked like a dumb trout.
Forcibly returning his eyes to her face, he saw her grinning like the cat that not only ate the canary, but got a couple of other creatures too. "So I take it you like it?" she asked, perfectly aware of the answer.
"Mercedes?"
"Yeah, Harm?"
"If I ever try to dress you again, just shoot me."
"With greatest pleasure. Now... Let's go meet Volkonov."
******************************************************************
Almost two hours later
Local restaurant
Alexsandr Volkonov sighed, idly tracing a random design on the tiny cafe table. This was what he got for being early. Hopefully Harm's friend would show up soon. Oh well... at least he wasn't in Gork'iy, sitting in his mausoleum-like office.
He looked up as the door slammed shut... and stared. This couldn't be Harm's friend. He wouldn't be that lucky.
The statuesque blonde glanced around for a moment, then spotted him and tentatively made her way over. Having found his manners, Alex stood. Unfortunately, he was still searching for his voice.
The blonde stopped at the table, and then smiled warmly. "Herr Kapitan Alexsandr Volkonov?" she queried, her voice heavily accented but crisp. German?
"Yes," he replied. "You are Harm's friend?"
The smile expanded into a dazzling grin. "That I am. Eva-Louisa Von Kleist," she said, extending her hand.
Rather than accept the proffered handshake, Alex gently grasped her hand and raised it to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across her knuckles. Mercedes eyebrows rose. It was a rare man who could pull off that maneuver and come off a true gentleman. Alex Volkonov succeeded admirably (unlike a certain Australian), CD thought. It really was a shame, what she was going to have to do, but they were desperate.
They sat, Alex having held out CD's chair and seated her before doing so himself. "So," he began, smiling widely as "Eva-Louisa" fumbled a bit with her jacket, "You are on a tour of Russia. Where have you traveled so far?"
She waved her left hand airily. "Oh, here and there... Moscow, of course, Vyatka, Perm, but mostly Yekaterinburg."
Volkonov frowned slightly. "Ah, yes... I understand there was some sort of crime spree there recently."
Oh, shit. He would have to mention that, CD thought. Oh well, time to cut to the chase.
"Funny you should mention that, Herr Kapitian," she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward over the small table. "That, and other similar things, is exactly what I want to talk to you about, but not here. Why don't you and I take a little walk?"
Alex's senses were on alert. "Why not?" he asked suspiciously.
"I think you'd just better come with me, Kapitain Volkonov," the woman said, even as Alex's protest was cut off by click of a gun being cocked.
TBC.....
Penza
Local Hotel, Room 32
"You know, there's something I need to remember to do when we get back to the States."
"What's that?"
"Kill you slowly and painfully for making me do this," Mercedes's tone of voice, like her mood, had passed mere irritation hours ago and was currently registering somewhere around 'royally pissed off'.
"Aw, come on, CD, it's not that bad. Personally, I think you look pretty good," Harm began reasonably.
"You would," she muttered disgustedly.
"Besides," Harm continued, "Renee dresses-- er, dressed like that all the time," he added, then stopped at the look she was giving him. "What?"
"I'm trying to decide whether to inform you how moronic and insulting that comment was, or just cut to the chase and beat you to a pulp."
"Mercedes! What the hell is the big deal?" Harm said, exasperated.
"It's just some clothes and a little make-up."
"First," she said, ticking off the points on her now-fire-engine-red lacquered nails, "it is *not* *just* some clothes and make up. I look like a Moscow hooker, and if I put even another molecule of mascara on I won't be able to lift my eyelids. Second, you are seriously warped if you think there is nothing wrong with the way I look. And third, while I'm perfectly willing to play up this ruse, you can't expect me not to feel a little irritated and degraded by being forced into a stereotype I've had to bust my ass for years in two different professions to get around," she finished.
As was her gift, his cousin had just pointed out every flaw in his idea and made him feel like a total heel to boot with a short but succinct diatribe. Damn. He glanced over the 'disguise' he'd planned for her, taking in the high, high heels, short skirt and low cut blouse, and the overdone hair and makeup. He sighed.... she did have a point...his cousin looked like a local streetwalker.
"Harm?"
He looked up at her face, and caught the pleading look in her eyes. Damn, damn, damn. "I didn't realize it was that bad," he admitted. "Go, change. I don't know why I thought you needed all that crap in the first place."
"Well...." Having won the battle, CD could afford to be the gracious victor. Besides, she knew Harm had meant well; he was just being his typically clueless self. "It's not all bad," She added, concedingly. "Let me have a little time to work here, and let's see what I can come up with," she said, making her way to the bathroom.
"Okay, but remember, we've only got 2 hours until we meet Alex."
She gestured in acknowledgement as she disappeared into the bathroom. Tense, impatient, and worried, Harm tried sitting for a while before giving up and returning to pace in front of the window as he had earlier. He wanted this meeting over with, dammit, so he could go get Mac and get them the hell out of Russia. Logically, he'd known there was nothing he could have done at the time except make matters worse, but there was still a small voice in the back of his mind that kept repeating accusingly, "You abandoned Mac, and she's gone."
He wasn't sure he could how long he could keep ignoring that voice. Dammit, he had to, though.
"Well, whaddya think?"
Harm turned around, and his jaw hit the floor. It was some time before he recovered enough to find his voice. "Who are you and what the hell did you do with my cousin?" he managed to get out, all the while still trying to take in the picture in front of him.
The short skirt had been ditched in favor of a pair of soft, well-worn blue jeans that might as well have been painted on. The black heels stayed, but the cheap white low-cut blouse had been replaced with a sapphire blue silk shirt with a few buttons daringly undone. The biggest change, however, came in the face and hair. The paste-thick heavy makeup was gone. Instead, pale porcelain skin was paired with deepest ruby lips and lightly accented eyes.
Many years ago, when both were teenagers, Harm had commented to Mercedes that if she wanted male attention, all she had to do was leave her hair long and loose. Apparently, she'd remembered this well; Her white gold hair fanned back from her face, falling in gentle waves nearly to her waist.
In short, she looked incredible, and Harm didn't doubt Alex Volkonov would be hooked like a dumb trout.
Forcibly returning his eyes to her face, he saw her grinning like the cat that not only ate the canary, but got a couple of other creatures too. "So I take it you like it?" she asked, perfectly aware of the answer.
"Mercedes?"
"Yeah, Harm?"
"If I ever try to dress you again, just shoot me."
"With greatest pleasure. Now... Let's go meet Volkonov."
******************************************************************
Almost two hours later
Local restaurant
Alexsandr Volkonov sighed, idly tracing a random design on the tiny cafe table. This was what he got for being early. Hopefully Harm's friend would show up soon. Oh well... at least he wasn't in Gork'iy, sitting in his mausoleum-like office.
He looked up as the door slammed shut... and stared. This couldn't be Harm's friend. He wouldn't be that lucky.
The statuesque blonde glanced around for a moment, then spotted him and tentatively made her way over. Having found his manners, Alex stood. Unfortunately, he was still searching for his voice.
The blonde stopped at the table, and then smiled warmly. "Herr Kapitan Alexsandr Volkonov?" she queried, her voice heavily accented but crisp. German?
"Yes," he replied. "You are Harm's friend?"
The smile expanded into a dazzling grin. "That I am. Eva-Louisa Von Kleist," she said, extending her hand.
Rather than accept the proffered handshake, Alex gently grasped her hand and raised it to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across her knuckles. Mercedes eyebrows rose. It was a rare man who could pull off that maneuver and come off a true gentleman. Alex Volkonov succeeded admirably (unlike a certain Australian), CD thought. It really was a shame, what she was going to have to do, but they were desperate.
They sat, Alex having held out CD's chair and seated her before doing so himself. "So," he began, smiling widely as "Eva-Louisa" fumbled a bit with her jacket, "You are on a tour of Russia. Where have you traveled so far?"
She waved her left hand airily. "Oh, here and there... Moscow, of course, Vyatka, Perm, but mostly Yekaterinburg."
Volkonov frowned slightly. "Ah, yes... I understand there was some sort of crime spree there recently."
Oh, shit. He would have to mention that, CD thought. Oh well, time to cut to the chase.
"Funny you should mention that, Herr Kapitian," she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward over the small table. "That, and other similar things, is exactly what I want to talk to you about, but not here. Why don't you and I take a little walk?"
Alex's senses were on alert. "Why not?" he asked suspiciously.
"I think you'd just better come with me, Kapitain Volkonov," the woman said, even as Alex's protest was cut off by click of a gun being cocked.
TBC.....