Operation Barracuda (2005) by Tom - Splinter Cell 02 Clancy Page B
Authors: Tom - Splinter Cell 02 Clancy
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get my blood pressure back to normal.”
I touch her face lightly and kiss her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bring some water,” she hollers as I bound down the stairs. Once I’m alone in the office, I make the call and reach Lambert at Third Echelon.
“Sam, thank God you’re there,” he says.
“What’s up, Colonel?”
“Meet me at the usual place in an hour.”
“An hour?”
“Why, you have something else going on?”
I want to tell him to take this job and shove it but I don’t. “I, uh, I’m a little busy.”
“This is priority three, Sam.”
Shit. That means it’s of vital importance. There’s no way I can weasel out of it.
“I’ll be there,” I say. We hang up and I climb the stairs to the kitchen. I pour two tall glasses of water and bring them to the top floor. Katia’s lying playfully under the sheet, giggling. As I enter the room, she exposes one long, shapely leg and flexes it in the air.
“You like?” she says in a phony European accent. “You vant ?”
I sit on the bed and gently pull down the sheet. She has a cute, mischievous expression on her face.
“Here you go,” I say as I hand her the water. She sits up, exposing her lovely chest.
She downs the liquid quickly, exhales, and says, “So, you ready for round six? Or is it seven? I’ve lost count.”
“Katia, I have to leave. Business. I’m sorry.”
She looks as if I’ve slapped her. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re not trying to get rid of me?”
“Never. If I had my way about it, we’d never leave this room.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls who make you breakfast on your birthday.”
I lean in to kiss her again. She lets me but the earlier passion isn’t there. Her feelings are hurt.
“Does this mean you’re going out of town again?” she asks.
“It might.”
“Sam, what is so important about your job?”
“I can’t tell you, Katia.”
“You do work for the government.”
I figure there’s no harm in her knowing that much. If we’re going to have a relationship . . .
“Yes. I do. But I can’t tell you what I do. Please don’t ask. All right?”
She considers that a moment and then says, “Okay. As long as you promise you’re not going to drop the Krav Maga class now.”
I laugh. “Of course not.” I hold out my hand and help her out of bed. “We can still take that shower if you want.”
“You bet. I don’t want to go home smelling like sex. My cat will go nuts.”
I precede her into the bathroom to turn on the water. I see her reflection in the mirror and notice that she’s writing something on the notepad I keep on the nightstand. She joins me in the shower and we spend a luxurious five or six minutes soaping each other and getting all hot and bothered again. We do it one more time, standing up in the shower stall as the hot water rains down on us.
Afterward, when we’re dressed, I notice what she wrote on the notepad. It’s her cell phone number and the words, I don’t give this number to just anybody. I smile and lead her downstairs.
“You let me know if you have to leave town, will you?” she asks.
“I promise,” I say. It’s the least I can do.
11
IT’S begun to snow. Winter in Maryland is always unpredictable. You never know if it’s going to be blizzard conditions, wet and icy, or just plain cold. The temperature isn’t so low today but the snow is falling heavily. The weather boys predict six inches. Joy.
I crank up the heat in my 2002 Jeep Cherokee and drive down to D.C. on I-95. The vehicle is one of the Overland models, a rugged 4×4 with a potent 265-horsepower V8. For the city, it’s way too much car, but there are times when I like to take it over more rugged territory. I happen to enjoy road trips but I don’t get to take them very often. I’ve often fantasized of being a truck driver after I retire from the intelligence biz. I could go “searching for America,” just like all the other folk heroes.
Lambert and I
I touch her face lightly and kiss her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bring some water,” she hollers as I bound down the stairs. Once I’m alone in the office, I make the call and reach Lambert at Third Echelon.
“Sam, thank God you’re there,” he says.
“What’s up, Colonel?”
“Meet me at the usual place in an hour.”
“An hour?”
“Why, you have something else going on?”
I want to tell him to take this job and shove it but I don’t. “I, uh, I’m a little busy.”
“This is priority three, Sam.”
Shit. That means it’s of vital importance. There’s no way I can weasel out of it.
“I’ll be there,” I say. We hang up and I climb the stairs to the kitchen. I pour two tall glasses of water and bring them to the top floor. Katia’s lying playfully under the sheet, giggling. As I enter the room, she exposes one long, shapely leg and flexes it in the air.
“You like?” she says in a phony European accent. “You vant ?”
I sit on the bed and gently pull down the sheet. She has a cute, mischievous expression on her face.
“Here you go,” I say as I hand her the water. She sits up, exposing her lovely chest.
She downs the liquid quickly, exhales, and says, “So, you ready for round six? Or is it seven? I’ve lost count.”
“Katia, I have to leave. Business. I’m sorry.”
She looks as if I’ve slapped her. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re not trying to get rid of me?”
“Never. If I had my way about it, we’d never leave this room.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls who make you breakfast on your birthday.”
I lean in to kiss her again. She lets me but the earlier passion isn’t there. Her feelings are hurt.
“Does this mean you’re going out of town again?” she asks.
“It might.”
“Sam, what is so important about your job?”
“I can’t tell you, Katia.”
“You do work for the government.”
I figure there’s no harm in her knowing that much. If we’re going to have a relationship . . .
“Yes. I do. But I can’t tell you what I do. Please don’t ask. All right?”
She considers that a moment and then says, “Okay. As long as you promise you’re not going to drop the Krav Maga class now.”
I laugh. “Of course not.” I hold out my hand and help her out of bed. “We can still take that shower if you want.”
“You bet. I don’t want to go home smelling like sex. My cat will go nuts.”
I precede her into the bathroom to turn on the water. I see her reflection in the mirror and notice that she’s writing something on the notepad I keep on the nightstand. She joins me in the shower and we spend a luxurious five or six minutes soaping each other and getting all hot and bothered again. We do it one more time, standing up in the shower stall as the hot water rains down on us.
Afterward, when we’re dressed, I notice what she wrote on the notepad. It’s her cell phone number and the words, I don’t give this number to just anybody. I smile and lead her downstairs.
“You let me know if you have to leave town, will you?” she asks.
“I promise,” I say. It’s the least I can do.
11
IT’S begun to snow. Winter in Maryland is always unpredictable. You never know if it’s going to be blizzard conditions, wet and icy, or just plain cold. The temperature isn’t so low today but the snow is falling heavily. The weather boys predict six inches. Joy.
I crank up the heat in my 2002 Jeep Cherokee and drive down to D.C. on I-95. The vehicle is one of the Overland models, a rugged 4×4 with a potent 265-horsepower V8. For the city, it’s way too much car, but there are times when I like to take it over more rugged territory. I happen to enjoy road trips but I don’t get to take them very often. I’ve often fantasized of being a truck driver after I retire from the intelligence biz. I could go “searching for America,” just like all the other folk heroes.
Lambert and I
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