Zelasko pursed his lips. “You said you loved that school. But now I am told you did not.”
“I did. I always will. But I didn’t fit in. I wasn’t what they wanted. Don’t ask me to explain,” she pleaded. “I thought we were talking about Shannon.”
He pursed his lips,
then
nodded. “You are certain I should allow her to enter my country?”
“Selfishly?
I’d love it. If publicity is what you want, Shannon’s your girl. From what I’ve heard,” Sasha added slyly, “even if there’s no controversy, she’ll make one up. She’s determined to find a scandal behind every rock, even if it means creating her own. You’ll be on the front page of every newspaper in America.”
“Scandal?”
Zelasko’s handsome features twisted into a scowl. “There can be no scandal. Not if Kestonia is to enter the upper echelon of political society.”
He barked a series of orders into his phone, then closed it and smiled grimly. “She is a spirited woman. She has threatened to remain at the border until I meet with her.”
“Have you seen her? She’s very pretty.
Very blond.
You might want to reconsider.”
Zelasko reached out to touch Sasha’s hair, which was hanging in a loose braid down her back. “I prefer this.”
Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t pull away, reminding herself that lust was less dangerous than suspicion when ruthless dictators were involved.
But apparently some suspicion lingered in Zelasko’s mind, because he suddenly demanded, “It is a coincidence, is it not?
That
two females from the Athena Academy have appeared at my border in less than twenty-four hours?”
“I’d be shocked if only two of us showed up,” Sasha told him with a shrug. “This is the geopolitical social event of the decade, isn’t it? Athena produces more than its share of politicians and society women, not to mention intelligence officers. They’ll be attracted to this event just like Shannon was.
Just like I was.”
She bit her lip and pretended to be embarrassed. “I must seem frivolous to you, for taking up so much of your time when you have a million things to do. Plus, I don’t want to keep your sister waiting. I brought some gowns for her to try on. They were in the black garment bag your guards confiscated. Sorry, Nikko,” she added, sending a smile in the underling’s direction.
Zelasko burst into laughter,
then
explained to Nikko, “She knows I will send you to fetch those gowns.”
The young colonel smiled at Sasha and assured her, “It will be my honor to do for you.”
She smiled gratefully. “You’re sweet. I’ll show you which bag it is.
Vlados?”
She boldly extended her hand for the general’s kiss. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
She was in Kestonia. She had evaded the dungeon and the rack, at least for the moment. She had even managed to catch the Generalissimo’s eye. A quick survey of her luggage had demonstrated that nothing had been taken. In fact, everything but her carry-on bag had been neatly unpacked, with the items either placed in the drawers of a hand-carved maple dresser or pressed and hung in a matching armoire in her guest room.
So far, so good,
she decided as she snuggled under an eiderdown quilt atop the king-size bed.
I could get used to this if it weren’t for Vlad the Lascivious.
Or the fact that I’m supposed to be rescuing a helpless teenager.
She was feeling more confident about that, at least. Making it through Zelasko’s security measures seemed like a coup. Then there was the appearance of Shannon Conner at the border, which Sasha hoped was a sign that the newswoman was the hacker who had tried to access Sasha’s files. It made a certain amount of sense. Any good reporter would want to know as much as possible about the players in her story, so if she heard Sasha was attending the ball, she would have wanted to know why. And given Shannon’s brief experience at Athena Academy—not to mention her feud with them—she would have known about the Web site and would have been more than happy to try and exploit it.
And lucky for you, you were able to neutralize that particular problem,
she congratulated herself.
Jeff would be so proud of you.
Do you know what this really means?
she
asked herself suddenly.
Maybe you don’t need him more as a handler than a boyfriend after all! Not that a little backup wouldn’t be fun, but a boyfriend…Well, let’s face it. You need one of those, too. To keep you company in fabulous beds like this one.
She glanced longingly at the phone on the bedside table and wondered if she dared call Jeff in his capacity as her lover. She could pretend to be calling from her father’s house.
He’d be so sweet.
So supportive.
So irresistible.
And you’d be lying to him again. Nice way to kick off a romance, Bracciali. Plus, that line is surely tapped.
Or traced.
Or whatever.
If El Prezydente knew you were in touch with the FBI, he’d have you shot at sunrise. So forget about Jeff, and try to get some rest.
She was truly exhausted, yet the thought that Teal was being held against her will somewhere inside Zelasko’s stronghold haunted her. She needed to formulate a plan, or at least, the beginnings of one. Meanwhile, Nikko had promised to return in one hour to escort her to the suite of Major Svetlina Zelasko, aka the Generalissimo’s sister.
After that, you’ve got your dinner date,
she reminded herself wryly as she buried her face in a fluffy pillow.
If he really does like dark-haired girls with big feet, you’re in for a world of trouble.
“Hey, Alex.
Got a minute?”
“Jeff!” Alex Sutter, Jeff’s Washington D.C. supervisor, half rose from his chair and extended his hand across the top of his desk “I thought you’d be headed for Italy by now.”
Jeff accepted the handshake, then settled into the only guest chair in the modest-size office. “I was scheduled to fly straight from Chicago to Rome, but I decided it would be better to arrive with the team. So I’m leaving with them from National in about an hour. Meanwhile—” he lowered his voice, conscious of the still-open door “—I’ve got something to tell you.
Off the record for now, if that’s okay.
This is just a heads-up.”
“Sounds mysterious.
What’s going on?”
Jeff exhaled sharply. This was the moment he had been dreading. As much as he liked and respected his supervisor, he had no idea how the guy would react to something like this. “My asset, Sasha Bracciali, told me she was planning to spend a few weeks reconciling with her father. You know who he is, right?
Big Frankie Bracciali.”
When Alex didn’t react, Jeff forged ahead. “We have intel that she’s actually in Rome.
With
out
Big Frankie.
I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. He probably sent her there for a vacation in honor of their new relationship. Still, she’s out of the country.
In Rome of all places.
Given this business with Vincent Martino, I figured someone here at headquarters should be in the loop.”
Alex’s expression still hadn’t changed. Instead, he said quietly, “Close the door, Jeff.”
Surprised, the agent did as instructed. Then he assured his boss, “It’s no big deal. I trust Sasha implicitly.
More so than ever these days.”
Alex cleared his throat. “The thing is
,
we know exactly where Sasha Bracciali is. And it isn’t Rome.”
“Huh?”
The supervisor leaned forward, his face now filled with concern. “I apologize for springing it on you like this. I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but
it’s
top secret. She’s on an NSA op, Jeff.
Ultra hush-hush.
You know how those guys are.”
Jeff stared in disbelief.
“NSA?”
“Right.
She’s working with them—”
“Since when?
She’s
my
asset, goddammit. They can’t just appropriate her—
steal
her!—without telling me.
For
what?
What the hell are they up to?”
Alex winced. “They didn’t exactly twist her arm, buddy. Word is she was hot for the assignment. Apparently she’s got connections over there.
High up.”
“Connections?”
“It’s complicated, or so they tell me. And it goes way back. To her high school days at least.”
Jeff sat back in his chair, stunned by the suggestion. “Are you saying she’s
their
asset, too?
Or…their operative?”
“All I know for sure is, she’s got a helluva lot more juice—and training—than we ever knew.”
Jeff forced himself to remain calm. “I know some of those NSA guys. Whose team is she on?”
“She went alone.”
His fists clenched. “What are you talking about?
Alone?
She’s not ready for anything like that.”
His supervisor leaned forward again, all compassion gone from his expression. “I’m sure they know what they’re doing. Like I said, she was hot to do it.”
“That’s nuts.” Jeff shook his head.
“Why all the secrecy?
Why cut
me
out? If they’re using her for her Mafia connections—”
“I never said that,” Alex retorted. “All I know is
,
she’s got NSA connections that made her perfect for this op. Let it go, Jeff.
For both our sakes.”
“Let it go?” He shook his head again, almost dazed by the concept. “She’s in Europe, right?
But not Italy?”
Alex shrugged.
“Damn…At least in Rome she’d know her way around. I don’t care how much goddammed training or how many goddammed connections she has, she’s not ready to go solo in a foreign country. I’m her handler. I
know.
” He glared at his supervisor, assuring him bluntly, “No way can I let this go.”
“I can see that. Unfortunately, you have your orders.
And your own mission.
To bring the Butcher to justice once and for all.
I thought that was your highest priority.
Your
Holy Grail.”
“It was. It still is. But—”
“She’s Big Frankie Bracciali’s daughter, Jeff,” Alex reminded him with an unexpected grin. “No way would the NSA send her into danger. If they did, there would be no safe place on earth for them to hide. You know that, right?”
Jeff squirmed, unconvinced.
“They’re professionals, buddy. Sure we razz them, but for this sort of thing they’re the best. She’ll be back in one piece in no time, and you can rake her over the coals for holding out on you. Dump her if you want. I wouldn’t blame you. But for now, let her do her job while you do yours.
Right?”
Jeff scowled.
“Didn’t you just say your team leaves for Palermo in an hour? Be with them, or you’ll have bigger problems than a missing asset. Your whole career will be missing.” Alex’s tone softened. “She’ll be fine.
And even if she’s not, what of it?
You’ve always said she’s a pain in the ass. But the good news is
,
she’s a pain in
their
asses now.
Right?”
Jeff hesitated,
then
nodded.
“And meanwhile, we’ve got our own job to do.”
“True.”
Alex smiled. “I’ll let you know the minute I hear any more about her status.
How’s that?”
“Works for me.”
Jeff stood and extended his hand across the desk again. “Thanks for trusting me with this, buddy. I won’t forget it.”
“Good luck in Palermo. Bring back the Butcher and we’ll both be heroes.”
“The Holy Grail,” Jeff drawled. “Believe me, I won’t come back empty-handed.”
“M ajor Zelasko?”
Holding Sasha’s garment bag and satchel in one hand, Nikko Kerenski stood in the hallway with Sasha and knocked gently on Svetlina’s door. Then he called out something in Kestonian. To Sasha, he explained, “She expects you.”
“Thanks.” Sasha gave him a reassuring smile, pleased with the respectful way the colonel had treated her from the moment he arrived at her guest room to escort her to Svetlina’s suite. On the way, he had carefully explained that he was the second-highest ranked officer in the Kestonian army, an army in which there was only
one
general—Vlados Zelasko.
“What’s his sister like anyway? On the phone, she seemed awfully bossy.”
“Bossy?”
Nikko shrugged. “I do not know that word.”
“She gives lots of orders.”
“She is a major in the Kestonian army. To give orders is her duty.”
“Good point.”
“But also her pleasure,” Nikko added slyly.
Sasha laughed, and was about to solicit more dirt when the door was flung open by a dark-haired woman wearing a ball gown of gold brocade so sumptuous Sasha could barely resist reaching out and touching it.
“You are late. Come in,” the woman insisted. Turning to Nikko, she fired off commands in Kestonian, and he hurried to a coatrack where he hung the garment bag while dropping the satchel on the floor. Then with an apologetic glance at Sasha, he rushed out of the room.
“Close the door, Miss Bracciali. There is no time to waste. One look at this monstrosity tells you so, does it not?”
Sasha took a deep breath, then shut the door behind
herself
and walked to the center of the room, studying her hostess in wary silence. Even in an evening gown, this woman was a soldier, which appeared to be part of the problem. The dress was so feminine—so absolutely magical—that the contrast with lean shoulders, muscled arms and ramrod-straight posture was downright jarring.
It wasn’t that Major Svetlina Zelasko was unattractive.
Or at least, not exactly.
But she was no beauty, either, and appeared to lack any semblance of grace.
Svetlina had been studying Sasha in return, and now remarked, “I see it is true. We have the same size. And you have brought the gowns just as you promised. I now pray for a miracle, if only to save this worthless servant from a beating.”