you.”
Zoya didn’t argue the point, but she did ask, “What about Hightower? Why isn’t he here helping us?”
“Because he’s in a jail cell in Caracas.”
She was surprised by this. “What’s he doing there?”
“Not a whole lot, would be my guess. SEBIN has him.”
“At Helicoide prison?”
“How did you know?”
“I know a little about Venezuela. I did . . . a . . . thing there once.” She shrugged. “Once or twice.”
Court knew better than to ask. She wouldn’t say, and he really didn’t want to know.
She surprised him with her next comment. “If I could get him out, would he be able to help you?”
Court nodded. “Well, sure, I could use his support here, especially if anything kicks off with the Iranians, but I don’t know how you are going to be able to—”
“I know some people.” She smiled a little. “More importantly, some people know me. I’ll call Matt and see if he’ll approve it.”
Court shook his head adamantly. “With Matt, often it’s better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.”
The Russian brunette nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. I’ll just disappear for a couple of days. I’ve got access to an Agency account in Cyprus. It’s not a ton, but I could probably get the money I need to go down and get Hightower.”
Court said, “And I have access to an Agency account in Antigua. I’ll give you the account and routing numbers.” He added, “But the most important thing is that you leave here now.”
They exchanged contact information, and Court passed over his banking info. This wasn’t a CIA account; in truth, it was his own personal money, but he’d amassed a small fortune there in his years as a freelance assassin, and he wanted Zoya to have all the resources she needed.
When this was done, both of them rose, each helping the other up. As they stood face-to-face, close for the first time, Zoya’s expression turned even more serious.
“What is it?” Court asked, concerned.
Zoya didn’t respond. Instead she grabbed him by the back of the neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. He kissed her back, and they lingered close for a long moment, wrapped in the silence of the morning.
Finally, she backed away a half step.
Court didn’t know what to say. He felt that way a lot around Zoya.
She repeated herself from earlier. “We’re not good, you and I.”
Court nodded slowly, as if he understood. But he did not. Women bewildered him.
She said, “But . . . everything you do, Court, you do it with the best of intentions. You’re not perfect. Sometimes, you’re wrong. Sometimes, you’re so incredibly wrong you fuck things up royally. But I’ve never met anyone in my life, other than my late brother, who is such a fundamentally good person.”
Court didn’t think he was all that great, but he appreciated her saying it. They embraced again; he was careful to keep his new injury out of her grasp as he did so.
Court shook away the soft stuff and got back to business yet again. “Get out of here. If you can get to Zack, send him this way. If you can’t, then don’t worry about it. I’ve made it this far on my own. Also, dump your phone. And remember about Hanley. You can trust him to do what’s best for the USA, but you can’t trust him to tell you the truth. About anything. He manipulates people like us into doing some crazy shit, and I think you need to try to get out of the crazy-shit business.”
“Look who’s talking,” she said with a little laugh.
“Yeah,” Court responded, and he motioned to his body with a wave of his hand. “Look who’s talking.” He was wounded and sick, and he looked like death warmed over.
“You make a good point,” Zoya said, and she kissed him one more time, then headed for the door.
FORTY-NINE
Court dialed a number just minutes after Zoya left his little apartment. It was only five a.m. D.C. time, but he didn’t care.
Hanley answered, and it was clear he was wide awake. “That you?”
Court said, “Violator. Iden Alpha, X-ray, Mike—”
“Skip it, it’s you. I’m getting reports from the embassy about more gunplay nearby. What the hell happened?”
“The Russians made an attempt on Anthem. She’s okay, but her contact at Shrike is dead, and she’s been burned.”
“Shit,” Hanley said, and then he said it again with more conviction. “Shit!”
“Yeah.”
“Where is Anthem now?”
“She’s on a plane out of here. She didn’t tell me where and I didn’t ask. She dumped