turned away. “Pervert.”
Well, that didn’t go as well as he’d have liked. “It was just a suggestion.”
“And a sneaky way to try to get in to my pants. I have to say, I’m disappointed in you, Archuletta. You used to have a lot more charm and class than that.”
“Really?” He smiled.
“Oh, shut up. I refuse to stroke your ego, you moron.”
The sun shone bright and warm as they made their way toward St. Petersburg. The traffic was light, with only a few other cars on the road. Then he remembered it was a weekday and most people were already at work.
At a sign saying St. Petersburg two hundred kilometers, Tony smiled as they approached their destination. Pulkovo Airport set right off the highway they traveled and was situated on the outskirts of town.
They’d be there in plenty of time to catch their plane , and they’d be in Cairo five hours later.
As Tony rounded a corner, a car came up from behind them and slammed into the rear of their vehicle, jostling them around the interior. Tony nearly lost control.
From his rear view mirror, he couldn’t tell who chased them. Several shots were fired and the back window shattered. Tony handed Abby a gun. “Here, shoot back.”
Horror masked her face. “What, you want me to use this?”
“Yes.” Another bullet slammed into the dash. “Now.”
Abby turned around, kneeled on the seat and fired off five rounds.
A bullet zinged over Tony’s right shoulder. “Keep shooting.”
“I don’t think I’m hitting anything.”
“It would help if you kept your eyes open.”
“Oh, excuse me, Spy Guy. But I missed my gun shooting class.” She braced her hand against the headrest and emptied the clip. Tires squealed and the car behind them ran off the road.
She turned and slumped into her seat.
“You okay?” Tony asked.
“Hell, no, I’m not okay. I’m not an agent. I’m a reporter. I report things, not blow the hell out of everyone and everything I see.”
“ Makes me wonder what the hell is going on. That’s the third encounter since we left Moscow.”
“When do we get to the airport?”
He glanced toward her. “Not far now. However, it’s going to be a lot colder with the window blown out.”
Abby hunkered down into her warm jacket. “Man, I can’t wait to get out of this country.”
“Let’s just hope it goes smoothly at the airport.”
She rolled her eyes. “What could go wrong?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Washington, DC
“Hello , Brad.” Senator Nick Parker sat behind his polished mahogany desk at his district office, wearing an expensive suit and a vote-grabbing smile. “What’s up?”
Brad took one of the matching burgundy visitor chairs in front of the Senator. “Can you talk?”
The smile disappeared from Nick’s face, replaced by a worried frown. He looked around the empty office and adjusted his tie. “Yeah, but make it fast.”
Brad propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and cleared his throat. “I was with Anita last night, but I don’t think she knows anything about her husband’s capture yet.”
The senator leaned forward, his stomach pressed against the edge of his desk. “We want to keep that quiet as long as we can.”
“Have you heard from your contact?”
Nick slumped back and chewed on his thumbnail. “No, but he’s making his way to the drop point.”
“Let’s hope this doesn’t blow up in our faces.”
Nick pointed a warning finger at him. “It won’t. Go back to your office and keep your mouth shut.” Brad watched as the senator brushed back his hair. “These things take time. You need to be more patient.” Nick stood, announcing his dismissal.
Brad leaned back and crossed his legs, the fingers o f his left hand drumming against the chair arm. He’d expected more from their meeting than a quick brush-off and a chill that would frost the windows. Certainly, a little appreciation for all he’d done might be in order.
Selfish bastard.
“I’m just checking to see
Well, that didn’t go as well as he’d have liked. “It was just a suggestion.”
“And a sneaky way to try to get in to my pants. I have to say, I’m disappointed in you, Archuletta. You used to have a lot more charm and class than that.”
“Really?” He smiled.
“Oh, shut up. I refuse to stroke your ego, you moron.”
The sun shone bright and warm as they made their way toward St. Petersburg. The traffic was light, with only a few other cars on the road. Then he remembered it was a weekday and most people were already at work.
At a sign saying St. Petersburg two hundred kilometers, Tony smiled as they approached their destination. Pulkovo Airport set right off the highway they traveled and was situated on the outskirts of town.
They’d be there in plenty of time to catch their plane , and they’d be in Cairo five hours later.
As Tony rounded a corner, a car came up from behind them and slammed into the rear of their vehicle, jostling them around the interior. Tony nearly lost control.
From his rear view mirror, he couldn’t tell who chased them. Several shots were fired and the back window shattered. Tony handed Abby a gun. “Here, shoot back.”
Horror masked her face. “What, you want me to use this?”
“Yes.” Another bullet slammed into the dash. “Now.”
Abby turned around, kneeled on the seat and fired off five rounds.
A bullet zinged over Tony’s right shoulder. “Keep shooting.”
“I don’t think I’m hitting anything.”
“It would help if you kept your eyes open.”
“Oh, excuse me, Spy Guy. But I missed my gun shooting class.” She braced her hand against the headrest and emptied the clip. Tires squealed and the car behind them ran off the road.
She turned and slumped into her seat.
“You okay?” Tony asked.
“Hell, no, I’m not okay. I’m not an agent. I’m a reporter. I report things, not blow the hell out of everyone and everything I see.”
“ Makes me wonder what the hell is going on. That’s the third encounter since we left Moscow.”
“When do we get to the airport?”
He glanced toward her. “Not far now. However, it’s going to be a lot colder with the window blown out.”
Abby hunkered down into her warm jacket. “Man, I can’t wait to get out of this country.”
“Let’s just hope it goes smoothly at the airport.”
She rolled her eyes. “What could go wrong?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Washington, DC
“Hello , Brad.” Senator Nick Parker sat behind his polished mahogany desk at his district office, wearing an expensive suit and a vote-grabbing smile. “What’s up?”
Brad took one of the matching burgundy visitor chairs in front of the Senator. “Can you talk?”
The smile disappeared from Nick’s face, replaced by a worried frown. He looked around the empty office and adjusted his tie. “Yeah, but make it fast.”
Brad propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and cleared his throat. “I was with Anita last night, but I don’t think she knows anything about her husband’s capture yet.”
The senator leaned forward, his stomach pressed against the edge of his desk. “We want to keep that quiet as long as we can.”
“Have you heard from your contact?”
Nick slumped back and chewed on his thumbnail. “No, but he’s making his way to the drop point.”
“Let’s hope this doesn’t blow up in our faces.”
Nick pointed a warning finger at him. “It won’t. Go back to your office and keep your mouth shut.” Brad watched as the senator brushed back his hair. “These things take time. You need to be more patient.” Nick stood, announcing his dismissal.
Brad leaned back and crossed his legs, the fingers o f his left hand drumming against the chair arm. He’d expected more from their meeting than a quick brush-off and a chill that would frost the windows. Certainly, a little appreciation for all he’d done might be in order.
Selfish bastard.
“I’m just checking to see
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