C. Paradee - Deep Cover

Blue growled, "I'm losing my patience."

"I am Markov. I was sent by the Bear."

"Why?"

"He did not say." Blue knew that was probably true, but decided to make sure. She pressed her gun into the base of Markov's neck. "I don't believe you."

"It is true! He ordered me to return when you went into the store."

"Why didn't you?"

Markov hesitated and felt the pressure at the base of his neck increase. "I wanted to give him a description of your partner."

Blue felt her stomach tighten. "Why?"

"He was interested in her. I wanted to impress him."

Blue handed the man his wallet. "Hold that up where I can see. Now take out your ID." She looked at the diplomatic ID card issued by the State Department to all embassy personnel and learned his full name was Boris Ivanovich Markov. The other information on the ID didn't interest her. "What else you got in there, Boris?"

Markov began removing each item from his wallet and held it up until she ordered, "Next."

Blue was looking for phone numbers or code names, and smiled when he tried to hide a small folded piece of paper from her sight. It never ceased to amaze her how stupid some operatives were.

She shoved the barrel of the gun against his head. "Hand me that piece of paper you're trying to hide. Try anything funny and you die and I get it anyway."

Markov tensed. That paper had Dimitri's personal phone number on it. He could not allow this woman to have it. He slowly moved the folded piece of paper from behind his international license and then suddenly thrust it to his mouth.

Blue had anticipated the move and slammed her left fist into the side of his head. Ignoring Markov's grunt of pain, she growled, "You don't get it yet, do you?"

She pressed her weapon against Markov's head. "Now pick it up."

Markov shook his head to clear it, and slowly reached down to retrieve the piece of paper from his lap. Any thought of defying her again deserted him when he heard her chuckle softly in his ear. "You try that again and your brain is gonna be splattered all over the inside of this car."

Blue took it from him and slid it in her pocket. "That's a good boy. Now listen carefully. If I ever see you again, you're a dead man. That goes for annoying my partner, too. You got that?"

Markov nodded. "Yes."

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other." She got out of the car, keeping her gun hidden from view, not wanting to attract any curious eyes. "Get out of here."

Blue watched him drive away before turning her attention back to her companion. She would have to wait to see what Markov risked his life to keep her from getting.

Shelby's face was pale. She had flinched when Kris belted the man with her gun, and again when she clobbered him on the side of his head. She hadn't been able to hear the conversation, but his curses had carried beyond the confines of the car. She wasn't positive, but the guttural tone had sounded like Russian. What was going on?

"Let's get out of here."

Nodding, Shelby stepped from the doorway and walked in front of Kris to the car. Once they were back on the road, Shelby asked, "Who was he?"

"Just someone following orders."

"That's all he told you? Is that why you hit him?"

Kris glanced at Shelby and suddenly realized how upset she was. "I hit him because he was lying. In this business, force is all some people understand." She purposely made no mention of why she hit him the second time.

"Do you know who sent him?"

"Yes." Kris briefly made eye contact with the other woman. "Don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

Yeah, right. Not much chance of her not worrying after what she'd just witnessed. She hoped Kris did take care of it and that her life returned to some semblance of normal.

They arrived home a short time later. After thoroughly inspecting the apartment, Kris returned to the kitchen where Shelby had just fed the kitten. "Does she always gobble down her food like that?" Her question was intended to divert Shelby's attention from the recent events more than actual curiosity.

"Yeah. I think she might stop doing it once she feels secure here and knows she'll always have food. Poor thing. How terrible for her to be abandoned like that."

Kris nodded in agreement and decided to change out of her work clothes. She would've preferred changing right in the living room, but decided that since it wasn't her apartment, the bathroom would be more appropriate. "I'm gonna change."

Shelby watched Kris walk to the bathroom, fully appreciating the natural grace with which the tall woman moved until she became aware of what she was doing and blushed furiously.

Locking the bathroom door, Kris pulled out the small tattered piece of paper. It was blank except for a local telephone number she readily identified as embassy from the prefix. She folded it and put it in the pocket of the jeans she had donned. Tomorrow, she would find out who was at the other end of that phone. It would be interesting to see if the voice matched her contact's.

Shelby went to her bedroom and after changing, took extra time to put her clothes in their proper place, smiling as she did so.

Her amusement faded when she walked into the living room and saw Kris' gun lying on the end table next to the operative. She remembered how comfortable the operative had looked, standing with her gun pressed against that man's back. The sight of it now was a cold, harsh reminder of the seriousness of their situation. She glanced at Kris. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Kris followed Shelby's gaze to her weapon. "I need it close."

"I know. It just seems strange to have one in my apartment. I'll make us something to eat."

Kris was again reminded of what different worlds they lived in. "Need any help?"

"No. I've got some homemade spaghetti in the freezer. I'll just heat that up."

The operative's thoughts turned to her conversation with Markov, and she sighed. Kris knew she'd been taking a chance by blowing off her contact, but she had wanted to push the boundaries to find out how much leeway she had. Guess I found out.

Kris was also extremely concerned about their interest in Shelby and knew it had originated solely because of their working and living arrangement. Questions filled her mind. How did they know I would be riding with Shelby? How did they find out what kind of car she drove so quickly? One thing was crystal clear. Someone was leaking information. Who?

Her contact had not indicated any knowledge of the case she was working when they met. He had only been interested in the locations of field operatives. She snorted. It was always the same. Spy on the spies . Information was power, and the Russians would hold a huge advantage if they knew who and where their counterparts were. The wall coming down hadn't made any difference in this overt power quest. If anything, each country's interest in what the other was doing had increased. Some things never change.

Shelby walked into the living room and joined Kris on the couch. She wasn't satisfied with the preemptive answers the operative had given her in the car. "Was this case the reason that guy was following us?"

Kris looked at the earnest face gazing at her, and felt her stomach sink to new depths. Unable to bring herself to lie in the face of such honesty, Kris decided to share what she could. "They were following me. In my line of work you make a lot of enemies." Except that now you are involved, but I see no point in worrying you any more than you already are.

Musing aloud, Shelby said, "It sounded like that guy was speaking Russian."

Kris tensed but remained silent. Damn it . She had hoped Shelby hadn't heard the invectives spouted by Markov.

"Are you going to tell Earl?"