"I'm not, am I?" Sands muttered. He could almost feel Adele grinning.
"Jealous?"
Sands smirked. "Not on your life, sugarbutt. I'll be glad to share you."
The next sound he heard was the door slamming as Adele left him to dress. With less difficulty than he thought, Sands pulled on the clothes (which were slightly big) and made his way to the kitchen more easily than he had the first time. The clink of dinnerware on wood told him where the table was, and he clasped the back of a chair with a feeling like triumph. He seated himself, felt around briefly for the silverware, and turned his head in Adele's general direction.
"All right, kitten. Spill."
A plate was set in front of him and a chair scraped across the way.
"I don't think that would be conducive to enjoying the meal," Adele said blithely. He heard the scrape of fork against china and followed her lead. I don't even know what she's feeding me...
"I mean," he said blandly, "what is this non-altruistic reason you have for pulling my butt out of that putrid little alley?"
"Oh, that. Well, you see, what I told you about Latinamericano cartels in Europe wasn't precisely true. That was only to appease any listening ears, and to give young Joaquin something to repeat, if he slips. And he will," she sighed. "They're well meaning at that age, but indiscreet."
"Point," Sands said around a mouthful of food. It wasn't pibil, but it wasn't bad, he decided.
"Ah, yes. The point is, Agent Sands, I lied. What I need you for actually has nothing to do with the Barillo cartel, or any cartel for that matter. Also, I'm not working for the British government. Not publicly, at any rate."
"Hmm...the plot thickens," Sands commented. "But, sweetie, you've still neglected to give me the straight poop –so to speak- about what you really want me for. Unless of course, you're waiting for me to make the first move..."
Adele's glare could have melted a glacier in ten seconds flat; Sands could feel it.
"I'm an assassin," she told him bluntly. Whatever Sands had been waiting for, that certainly wasn't it. He only just managed to swallow the food in his mouth before feeling around for his beverage. After he had avoided choking to death, he managed a question.
"So you've been sent to kill me?"
"If I was to kill you, Sands, you'd be dead. No, I need you so that I can get to the person I need to kill. You know all about him, I've been told. Know him intimately, in fact."
"Can I know his name, or is it a big secret?"
"Cristobal Pele Juarez Larento."
Once again, Sands had to avoid choking on his food.