Chapter 38
Ten minutes later, Jack and Sydney were just finishing their breakfasts when Ralph Campbell and two men in nondescript business suits with expressionless faces entered the restaurant. Campbell waved off Nicolae when he came to greet them and wandered through the restaurant until he found the Bristows in the back corner. He looked rather disappointed when he saw the two of them. They both looked up at him with confused expressions.
"Developed a sudden interest in Russian food, Agent Bristow?" Campbell asked, apparently speaking to Jack.
"Thought we'd try something different," Jack replied blandly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Campbell just shook his head and turned away. He gestured to Nicolae, and one of his assistants went and pulled the man over to the Bristow's table.
"Would you like a table?" Nicolae asked, looking rather confused, but calm.
Campbell gestured to the Bristows. "Did these two come in alone?"
Jack and Sydney held their breaths for a moment, but released silently when Nicolae wrinkled his brow and said, "No, they came in together."
"Was anyone else with them?" Campbell asked, clearly annoyed. "Did they talk to anyone else while they were here?"
"Not that I am aware of. Now, sir, I believe you are making my customers uncomfortable," Nicolae said, his sweeping gesture making it clear that he was talking about the entire restaurant, not just the Bristows. "I can get you a table and you can order, or you can leave."
Campbell snorted in disgust, gestured to his assistants, and walked out.
A nondescript gray sedan pulled into the parking lot of a small city park. Two women stood from a bench, collected their bags, and got in the back seat.
"Madame, is everything all right? Do I need to hurry?" Paul asked in French as he pulled out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing furtively at the young woman who sat beside his boss.
"Everything is fine, Paul. Take your time," Irina replied in the same language. "This is Tatiana. She'll be working with me," she continued.
"Pleased to meet you," Tatiana said in perfect French.
"The pleasure is mine...Mademoiselle?" Paul tried not to show his confusion. Irina had asked for pickup a day early, then called him fifteen minutes ago to change the location, and yet she said there was no trouble. And this was not standard procedure with regard to either a new business partner or a new employee—he wasn't quite sure which this Tatiana was yet.
"Yes," Tatiana said in answer to his question.
"Where to, Madame?" Paul then asked blandly. Irina was the boss; if she chose to break with procedure, it certainly wasn't his place to question.
"The airport, and then home." Now Paul was even more confused. Irina never allowed anyone but her siblings, him, and the employees assigned to her plane anywhere near it; the chance of someone planting a tracking device that would allow them to trace her movements far too easily was too great. And she certainly didn't take anyone "home" to her compound outside St. Petersburg. He wondered once again who exactly Tatiana was.
Irina and Tatiana began to speak in Russian, and Paul sighed inwardly. He didn't speak Russian, a fact she'd known quite well when she'd hired him. She said that she trusted him, but she needed a bodyguard who didn't speak Russian and so would be acceptable to her business associates. He didn't believe her; Irina Derevko didn't fully trust anyone. Which begged the question of who, exactly, Tatiana was, and how she had managed to gain so much of Irina's trust so quickly. He would watch this one closely, he decided, to make sure Irina's trust wasn't misplaced. That was his job as her bodyguard, after all.
Ten minutes later, Jack and Sydney were just finishing their breakfasts when Ralph Campbell and two men in nondescript business suits with expressionless faces entered the restaurant. Campbell waved off Nicolae when he came to greet them and wandered through the restaurant until he found the Bristows in the back corner. He looked rather disappointed when he saw the two of them. They both looked up at him with confused expressions.
"Developed a sudden interest in Russian food, Agent Bristow?" Campbell asked, apparently speaking to Jack.
"Thought we'd try something different," Jack replied blandly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Campbell just shook his head and turned away. He gestured to Nicolae, and one of his assistants went and pulled the man over to the Bristow's table.
"Would you like a table?" Nicolae asked, looking rather confused, but calm.
Campbell gestured to the Bristows. "Did these two come in alone?"
Jack and Sydney held their breaths for a moment, but released silently when Nicolae wrinkled his brow and said, "No, they came in together."
"Was anyone else with them?" Campbell asked, clearly annoyed. "Did they talk to anyone else while they were here?"
"Not that I am aware of. Now, sir, I believe you are making my customers uncomfortable," Nicolae said, his sweeping gesture making it clear that he was talking about the entire restaurant, not just the Bristows. "I can get you a table and you can order, or you can leave."
Campbell snorted in disgust, gestured to his assistants, and walked out.
A nondescript gray sedan pulled into the parking lot of a small city park. Two women stood from a bench, collected their bags, and got in the back seat.
"Madame, is everything all right? Do I need to hurry?" Paul asked in French as he pulled out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing furtively at the young woman who sat beside his boss.
"Everything is fine, Paul. Take your time," Irina replied in the same language. "This is Tatiana. She'll be working with me," she continued.
"Pleased to meet you," Tatiana said in perfect French.
"The pleasure is mine...Mademoiselle?" Paul tried not to show his confusion. Irina had asked for pickup a day early, then called him fifteen minutes ago to change the location, and yet she said there was no trouble. And this was not standard procedure with regard to either a new business partner or a new employee—he wasn't quite sure which this Tatiana was yet.
"Yes," Tatiana said in answer to his question.
"Where to, Madame?" Paul then asked blandly. Irina was the boss; if she chose to break with procedure, it certainly wasn't his place to question.
"The airport, and then home." Now Paul was even more confused. Irina never allowed anyone but her siblings, him, and the employees assigned to her plane anywhere near it; the chance of someone planting a tracking device that would allow them to trace her movements far too easily was too great. And she certainly didn't take anyone "home" to her compound outside St. Petersburg. He wondered once again who exactly Tatiana was.
Irina and Tatiana began to speak in Russian, and Paul sighed inwardly. He didn't speak Russian, a fact she'd known quite well when she'd hired him. She said that she trusted him, but she needed a bodyguard who didn't speak Russian and so would be acceptable to her business associates. He didn't believe her; Irina Derevko didn't fully trust anyone. Which begged the question of who, exactly, Tatiana was, and how she had managed to gain so much of Irina's trust so quickly. He would watch this one closely, he decided, to make sure Irina's trust wasn't misplaced. That was his job as her bodyguard, after all.