CHAPTER 7

SHELBY WOKE TO the pleasant aroma of brewing coffee wafting through the air for the second time in as many days. She rolled onto her back recalling her less than successful attempts at conversation the evening before when the operative had returned from her security check. Kris had been pleasant enough, just distant, and Shelby had found that she was doing most of the talking. If that's what it takes, fine. After donning her robe, she walked out to the kitchen and saw Kris kneeling on the dining room floor petting Stormy. "Good morning."

Kris quickly stood up. "Morning."

Stormy strolled over to Shelby, looked up and meowed loudly. Laughing, Shelby bent down to pet her. "She is just too cute! Did you feed her?"

"Yeah." Kris shrugged. "She was hungry."

Noting the slightly defensive answer, Shelby smiled warmly. "Thanks. Now that she's eaten, it's our turn. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Almost anything...except your Maypo." Kris was almost as surprised as Shelby at the joking answer and half turned away to cover it.

Shelby playfully glared at Kris. "We could have bagels again."

"A bagel sounds good to me. Why don't you go ahead and have your cereal? Just because I don't want it, doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy it."

"Yeah, I know. Okay, bagel for you and Maypo for me." Shelby busied herself getting out the cereal and was about to pull a bagel out of the bag when she felt Kris behind her.

"You don't have to get mine."

"I know I don't. But this kitchen is hardly big enough for two, and how much work is it to take a bagel out of the package, put it on a saucer and hand it to you. Now will you get out of my way?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Shelby laughed and handed her the bagel. "Here. Go ahead and get your own saucer if it makes you feel better."

Kris grinned and took a saucer from the cupboard before retreating into the dining room, still smiling. She sat at the table watching Shelby make her cereal.

Joining Kris at the table, Shelby asked, "Did you go out again last night?"

"Yeah. Around midnight. Everything was fine. No problems now, either."

"Oh good!"

Kris shrugged. "I didn't expect him to come back." And she hadn't, but it wouldn't have surprised her if he had, either. She was pulled from her musing when Shelby spoke again.

"So what's up for today? More of the same?"

"Yeah. I figure by Friday we should have the list narrowed down to about ten." Kris looked at Shelby speculatively. "How many names do you think will be left on the list when we're done?"

"I don't know." Shelby grinned mischievously. "I've got an idea. How about we both guess, and then the loser has to treat the winner to dinner."

Even though Kris had asked the question intending to find out if Shelby knew her code name, she found the idea of taking the analyst out to dinner was very attractive. Quit thinking date. It'll be farewell. Kris was unable to disagree with the logical assessment. Yes, it will be, but it's better than nothing. She smiled slightly as she settled the internal argument.

"You're on."

"Oh good! Let's see. I guess seven."

"Seven?" Why seven?"

"Because seven is a lucky number. Besides, there are five names on that list I'll be really surprised if we eliminate."

"Why?" Kris knew her tone had been too curt when she saw a shadow cross the analyst's face.

"It's just a gut feeling based on some other information I've had access to over the last several months, but has nothing to do with this case." That was really stupid Shelby.

Kris raised an eyebrow. "How about telling me which five names? Nothing classified about that."

Shelby acknowledged that was true and said, "Okay. You're right. I'm talking about Atlas, Blue, Jet, Roman, and Silver."

The operative smiled inwardly, having worked with the other four on various cases during her career. Smart woman.

"Did Dennis tell you my code name?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Probably because he figured I'd be more objective if I didn't know." Shelby met Blue's unwavering gaze. "Why? Are you one of those five?"

"Does it matter? What my code name is has nothing to do with solving this case."

Shelby pointedly remarked, "Which five operatives I think will not be eliminated didn't really have anything to do with the case, either."

When am I going to learn that this woman is no pushover? That's one of the things I really like about her. Kris nodded and thought quickly. "No, it didn't. I never should've asked."

So that's it? End of conversation? Shelby never spoke the words and even though she was not surprised at the operative's evasiveness, she was disappointed. She turned her attention to her cereal and took a bite.

Two things were obvious to her. The first was that Kris didn't trust her to be objective. The second was that the operative was very likely one of those five names or she would've come right out and said she wasn't. So which one? I think Blue fits, but that would be too obvious. Besides, if any of the stories in the rumor mill are true about Blue, it couldn't be Kris. Or could it? After the events of the previous evening, Shelby wasn't nearly as certain.

She looked up from her cereal at the sound of her name and found herself gazing into serious blue eyes.

Shelby's silence bothered Kris and she felt the need to explain, which disconcerted her to no end. "Do you trust me?"

What a loaded question. Shelby smiled. "I guess I'd better. You're keeping me safe."

The corner of Kris' mouth turned up at the neutral answer. "I know trust is something earned, and you don't really know me. But trust me when I tell you that it's better for you not to know who I am."

Shelby wasn't quite sure what to make of the odd expression that had appeared on Kris' face, but the intensity of the words washed over her and she suddenly realized the tall woman wasn't evading her question, but rather was answering it with total honestly. She gazed back into the operative's eyes and nodded. "Okay."

"Thanks." Kris searched for a way to dissipate the tension, and her eyes landed on the bookcase holding Shelby's knickknack collection.

"That's a pretty interesting collection you have there. Some of the pieces look kind of old. When did you start collecting them?"

Shelby's eyes took on a faraway look as her thoughts turned to her childhood. "I've always loved to read. When I was ten, I started reading fantasy books. I became intrigued with unicorns first. They were so beautiful and magical. I used to imagine riding away on one them."

She laughed quietly. "It's kind of silly really. The little people are to keep them company. I didn't want the unicorns to be lonely. The dragons came later when I learned they are supposed to bring good luck."

"I don't think it's silly. It's a nice collection." Kris sensed that Shelby had given her a very abbreviated version of the history behind the pieces. And why did you want to ride away? What aren't you saying? Were you lonely, and that's why you didn't want them to be? I know about lonely. "When did you...?"

"It's 7. I gotta start getting ready."

Kris watched Shelby abruptly rise and quickly rinse out her bowl as she passed through the kitchen on the way to her bedroom. I guess we all have secrets. Just leave it be. I need to know. She's my partner. No you don't. You're already becoming emotionally involved.

Deciding to use the time to check out the parking lot, Kris donned her clothes, carefully locked the door, and then departed. As she performed her surveillance, she positioned herself so that the door was within her view the entire time she was out of the apartment, and she could easily reach the stairs should it become necessary.



* * *

Kris had shown no interest in talking about personal things and Shelby had been caught totally off guard by the question about her collection. Her childhood memories were not happy ones, and she seldom revisited them. She focused on pushing the thoughts from the forefront of her mind and concentrated on what else was bothering her. I wanted to tell her what my childhood was like. And that doesn't make any sense. It's ancient history and I don't even know her.

She'd understand.

Shelby shook off the thought as she gazed into the closet, trying to decide what to wear. She heard the door close as Kris left the apartment. Turning her eyes toward the sound, she absently picked up Stormy and gently hugged the kitten. I wonder what she's thinking?

Kris returned a short time later. She stepped through the doorway and swallowed - hard.

Shelby was walking out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry, with her robe hanging open. When she saw the operative step into the apartment, she let the towel fall and hastily pulled her robe closed.

Cheeks blazing, Shelby mumbled, "Oh, you're back," and rapidly walked into her bedroom. That was really dumb. I never even heard her. How embarrassing!

Taking a deep breath, Kris closed the door. She had only caught a glimpse of the beautiful body that the robe quickly covered, but her heart was still pounding wildly. As she attempted to regain control of her recalcitrant libido, she tried to blow off her reaction as typical, but was unable to. None of her previous encounters with men or women had ever elicited such a visceral response. Kris didn't know if there was any truth to the proverbial value of a cold shower, but she intended to find out and headed for the bathroom.

Kris returned to the kitchen after showering and reached for the cup of coffee Shelby was holding out to her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." The analyst felt awkward and looked away.

Shelby's sudden shyness was endearing, and Kris wanted to hug her and tell her it was no big deal. Knowing that impulse was one she couldn't act on, she suddenly said, "Three."

"Three?" Shelby's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Our bet. I think we'll get the list down to three."

After the tense conversation about her code name, Shelby had figured Kris was no longer interested. "It's still on?"

"Of course, but be prepared to lose."

"I don't think so!" She matched the smug grin on Kris' face with one of her own.

Chuckling, Kris looked at her watch. "'Bout time to go."

"You didn't see anyone?"

"No."

Shelby smiled and said emphatically, "Good."

The operative quirked a half smile as she shook her head, wondering where the analyst found her optimism. Send some my way, woman. I could use it right about now.

Totally unaware of the warm smile covering her face, Kris watched as Shelby bade the kitten farewell.



* * *

The operative waited until Shelby was thoroughly engrossed in her work, then pulled up the embassy file on the Russian Federation. She scrolled through the short list of names and their purported jobs. Locating Markov, Kris found that he was officially assigned as a driver to both Gregor Mikhailovich Koslov and Dimitri Nekitych Pyetsky, who were both listed as political attaches. Yeah right.

Not recognizing either name, she clicked on Koslov first, and a close up photo opened on her screen. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the man. She read all the biographical information available, then returned to the main screen and clicked on Pyetsky.

Kris blanched as the familiar face appeared on the monitor before her.

Shelby glanced at her companion. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

Quickly pressing the ALT and TAB key on her keyboard simultaneously, Kris nodded and smiled wanly. "Yeah. It's just a little warm in here today."

Shelby hadn't thought so, but Kris did look uncomfortable. "I was going to get something to drink. Want anything?"

Regaining her composure, Kris smiled. "What are the choices?"

"Cranberry or orange juice, Coke, Cherry Coke, Diet Coke, Ginger Ale, Sprite, and Iced Tea."

"Coke sounds good." Kris reached into her pocket, but Shelby waved her off. "I'll get it this time."

Kris watched her walk out of the office, then quickly switched the screen back to the man she knew as Sergei Pavlovich Yanov. You rotten bastard. You've done pretty well, haven't you? She read his biography noting that some key information had not been uncovered, which didn't really surprise her. If it had been, he would have been deported upon his arrival in the States.

The operative closed the screen and processed the information. She had a phone call to make before deciding on a specific course of action, but the stakes had just been raised.



* * *

"Hey, Shelby."

The analyst secured the bottle of cranberry juice from the tray of the drink machine and smiled at the familiar voice. "Hi, Maggie. How's it going?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Rumor has it you're working on a really hot case."

Shelby shrugged. "Same ol'. How about you?"

"I'm stuck doing a records audit right now. Who's that woman you're working with? Is she new or a transferee?"

"She's just on loan for this case."

"So it is a hot case." Maggie grinned triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"Oh come on, Maggie. You know how the rumor mill is. Everything is so exaggerated. It's just a regular case, but it requires a lot of research so I got some help." Shelby smiled, very disturbed, but determined not to show it. "Really."

"Okay." Maggie grinned conspiratorially. "So heard any good gossip?"

"No. I've been kind of busy and haven't been to the cafeteria much lately. Seems like most of the rumors start there."

"I did."

Shelby grinned. "Okay. I'll bite. What'd you hear?"

"You ever hear of Blue?"

Suddenly tense, Shelby said warily, "Yeah."

"Blue is here."

Shelby forced skepticism into her voice. "I'm sure. For what?"

"Who knows? Who knows why they do anything they do around here?"

"True. Let me know if you hear anything else."

"No problem. Gotta go."

"Me too. See you later."

Maggie watched Shelby walk down the hall before heading back to her own office.

Kris listened to Shelby greet the Marine as she walked into the office. "Took you long enough. I was going to send out a search party."

"Very funny! Had to catch up on the rumor mill."

"Anything interesting?"

Shelby gazed at the beautiful blue eyes regarding her curiously. "You know how the rumor mill is. You gotta take everything with a grain of salt."

You are avoiding my question. Why? What did you hear? Kris took the Coke Shelby handed her and smiled disarmingly. "I hear you. Funny thing is, though, most of the rumors have some truth to them. It's just usually distorted."

"Yep. That's why I don't pay much attention to them," Shelby responded dismissively. "Find anything interesting in the satellite transmissions?"

Looks like I'm going to have to do my own homework. "No."

"I can't believe we haven't eliminated even one name today." Shelby didn't particularly care that they hadn't narrowed the list down, but wanted to steer the conversation away from Kris' question.

"It's still early. I'm sure we'll find a couple more before we leave."

Kris was disappointed that Shelby appeared to be so driven to bring the case to a conclusion. She had no choice but to hurry the case along, but the analyst wasn't under the constraints she was. Can you blame her? She's stuck with you twenty-four hours a day. Since she's been working on this case she's been shot at and followed. Why wouldn't she want to hurry the case along? True. Kris silenced the discordant voices and returned her attention to the monitor.



* * *

Kris stood up at 11:30. "I need to take care of some personal business. Mind if I use your car?"

She's going out now? A crease appeared on Shelby's brow. "No."

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Kris smiled, "No, you don't mind, or no I can't use your car?"

The analyst returned her smile. "No, I don't mind." She opened the desk drawer and pulled the keys from her purse, handing them to Kris. "Aren't you gonna wear your sunglasses?"

Kris cut wary eyes toward Shelby. "It was cloudy this morning and supposed to rain, remember? I thought I'd wait and see if I needed them."

"They look nice on you. You should put them on." God, Shelby, couldn't you think of anything better than that? All you're gonna do is make her suspicious.

"What gives?"

"Do you remember when you asked me to trust you this morning?" When Kris nodded, Shelby continued, "It's your turn to trust me. Please put your sunglasses on until you get in the car."

Swayed by the worry reflected on Shelby's countenance, Kris pulled the glasses from her jacket pocket and casually donned them. She intended to find out what was going on when she got back. A barely audible, "Thanks," followed her through the door.

Shelby momentarily questioned her decision to lend the operative her car. She had no doubt that Kris was going to follow up on whatever information she'd obtained from the guy she'd questioned the evening before and she wished the operative had taken some backup, just in case. She also knew if she hadn't lent Kris her car, the operative would've just called a cab and retrieved her rental car from the apartment complex parking lot where it had been parked for the past several days.

The analyst tried to figure out how an operative from another country could've found out who Kris was and tracked her to Virginia. None of what happened the previous evening made any sense. No closer to finding answers than she had been the night before, Shelby's thoughts turned to what she was going to tell Kris when she got back.

She knew the operative was going to ask her why she had insisted she wear her sunglasses. What do I tell her? There was no evidence that Kris was Blue, yet she'd felt the need to protect her from the prying eyes in the building just in case.

Shelby was barely able to stifle a snort at that thought. Protect Blue? Protect an operative with a reputation for deadly ruthlessness and success? What's gotten into me? Kris hadn't looked like she needed any help at all last night. In fact, she had been coolly efficient. Logically, it was unlikely that Blue or Kris would ever need her help. So, what do I tell her?

Well, uh, you see, I heard this rumor about Blue being in headquarters so I thought you should put your sunglasses on. Yeah right! Maybe it would be best to just tell Kris about the rumor and let the operative draw whatever conclusions she wanted. She's gonna know I think she could be Blue and what if I'm wrong? What will she think of me? Shelby decided the only option she had was to play it by ear and turned her attention back to the documents spread across her desk.



* * *

Kris made sure she wasn't being tailed and then pulled into a service station that had a public telephone. She dialed the number she had already memorized.

"General Pyetsky."

She had expected the voice of her contact, not him. She slowly hung up the phone and walked back to Shelby's car. Mechanically climbing into the driver's seat, she tried not to think, but the memories that voice elicited wouldn't be held at bay.

It was a cold, overcast winter morning. She was eight years old. A car pulled up in front of their apartment.

She turned to her mother. "He is here."

"This is an honor, Natasha. You are going to a school for gifted children. I am so proud of you."

But she had heard her mother softly crying every night that week and she didn't want to go. She didn't want to be gifted. She wanted to be normal and live with her mother and her cat, Sasha.

Tears rolled down her face. "I don't want to leave, Mama. Please don't make me."

Her mother hugged her. "I will write you a letter every day. And you get to come home for every holiday. I'll make your favorite dishes and invite all of our friends."

"What will happen to Sasha?"

"Don't you worry about Sasha. I'll take good care of her."

She watched out the window as the man walked up to their door and knocked.

"Mama, please don't open the door. I don't want to go."

"Natasha, it will be all right." She opened the door.

He walked in and asked, "Is this Natasha Lubinyenka?"

"Yes, this is my daughter."

She saw a tear in her mother's eye and glared at the man. "I am not going."

He laughed at her and tried to grab her arm. She jumped back. "My mother needs me to help her. I am staying."

His smile faded, and he suddenly had a grip on her arm. "You will learn obedience at the institute."

His hand was steadily squeezing her arm tighter and tighter. She cried out, "Mama, he's hurting me."

"Let go of her. She will walk to the car with you."

The stranger had hit her mother so hard, she stumbled back against the table. Then he half carried and half dragged her from the house. Her mother came running after them, begging the man to quit hurting her.

She had finally been able to grab hold of her mother and she hung on for dear life. As she watched in horror, the man brutally punched her mother in the stomach and shoved her into the car. The last thing she saw as they drove away was her mother lying crumpled on the ground.


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