Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,105
do was rope her girls into helping.
No telling what Bree and them would do. Amusement rolled through her as she contemplated the potential antics. House renovations Arsenal style.
“What about Maksim?” Thunder asked.
“Maksim has agreed to remain here in Russia and oversee the first phase of the process so that I can accompany you all to Texas,” Gavriil said.
“You’re going to Texas?” Addy glanced over at Beast. “Does Zoey know this? Wait. Does Mary know this?”
“She’s his sister,” Kristof whispered in Addy’s ear. “He won’t cause any problems.”
Of course. She wasn’t concerned with him causing trouble, but they’d need to make sure he was safeguarded. Was he on any watchlists? She’d have to check with Mary and make sure he wouldn’t run into any problems.
“I’m looking forward to seeing Stacia again. I’ve missed her.” Love shone on his face. “What your group has done to keep her safe is a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”
“She’ll be happier once she’s reunited with Olaf.” Gavriil drummed his fingers on the table. “Maksim mentioned the boy has some concerns about seeing her.”
The boy. Addy smiled. Olaf was only a few years younger than Kristof and Gavriil. Her stomach rumbled when the waitress approached with armloads of food. Two more followed with even more.
Beast and Shep pulled another table up and dragged chairs into position. Pitchers of water and orange juice and empty glasses and plates appeared next.
“Ladies first,” Kristof said.
Amusement flickered across her teammates’ faces as their gazes shifted from him to her as though they were an interesting tennis match. “I’m not a lady, but I’ll go first because I know how these pigs put away food.”
Thunder laughed.
Addy studied the eclectic buffet of Russian food before her and opted for butterbrots and tvorog with some fruit to begin. She scowled at the kasha. If she never saw any form of porridge again then it’d be too soon.
“The kasha is good—the best around,” Gavriil commented. “Though, Kristof isn’t a fan either.”
“Too much of it at the camp,” Kristof commented.
Addy tightened as her team tensed around her. Yeah, not going there. Not today. She focused on the butterbrots—open-faced sandwiches on the best bread she’d ever tasted. A moan escaped her as she made her way through the first quickly.
That was the one thing about Russia she enjoyed. The food.
No. She enjoyed more than that. She couldn’t blame an entire country for one vile bastard. Or several.
“That’s where he met you,” Gavriil said. Intensity resonated within his gaze when she looked at him. “The camp. I should’ve realized you were her. The pieces are all together now.”
What the hell did that mean? She glanced at Kristof, who offered a slight smile as he leaned over. His hot breath fanned along her ear. “I’ve only ever spoken of three women. The girl I knew at the camp. An operative named Addy. And Iriana.”
All her. Her heart warmed with the confession.
Shep and Johnny arm wrestled for the last piece of bread, a tasty rye that surpassed anything she’d ever tasted, then both turned red when the waitress appeared with another batch. Addy was relieved they were finally relaxing and enjoying themselves. The past few weeks hadn’t been much fun for anyone, but she and her team had carried the brunt of it.
Hopefully they’d get some R&R soon—assuming that whatever went down with Bob and his cronies was handled quickly. Or didn’t require them.
A bit of time off would be good. She could show Kristof around and…
Stop.
“You’re pretty quiet,” Shep commented. Amusement glimmered in his gaze. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine.” Addy took another bite of the food she’d taken. Kristof poured her a glass of orange juice and handed it to her. She swallowed. “Thanks. You’d better get some food before these piranhas eat it all.”
“We ate when we arrived,” Kristof said with a grin. “Apparently they forgot.”
Gavriil laughed. “Their stomachs will make Chef happy. He rarely gets to cook this much at once. Let them feast.”
“Marshall and the other guys are going to be pissed that they missed this,” Cracker said.
“We will send food for them,” Gavriil announced. He called out orders to the waitress. She scurried back into the kitchen area.
Poor girl. It wasn’t even noon yet and she was already run ragged. Addy studied Gavriil. He ran a syndicate, one as large as Kostya’s had been. Yet he’d helped Kristof free women and children from the underground auctions.