The Spy With The Silver Lining. Wendy Rosnau

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      “How’s Saber Lazie doing these days?”

      Pierce arched an eyebrow. “He’s still on his feet, kicking it around.”

      “So you two are still on good terms?”

      “Oui.” Where was this going?

      “You still have that house near Bayou Lafourche?”

      Pierce uncrossed his legs and sat up a little straighter. “What are you asking of me, Merrick?”

      “This is a bodyguard job with a twist.” Merrick slid another file across the desk. “Polax’s agent. The one you’ll be playing house with until Petrov makes his move. She comes with baggage.”

      “What kind of baggage?”

      “Her mother.”

      Pierce reached for the second file and opened it, and there staring back at him was the mouthy little bitch he’d encountered months ago in Austria. The woman he’d been tempted to shove out of the helicopter if only one of his bullet wounds hadn’t dislocated his shoulder in the process.

      He closed the file. “Balasi put Yurii Petrov in prison? How did she manage that?”

      “She used her charm. You know the standard for Quest agents. They’re trained specialists in the art of seduction.”

      The woman he’d met didn’t know the definition of charm, Pierce thought.

      “This particular agent is an expert in bringing a man to his knees. Polax tells me Petrov fell in two months. So hard he declared his love, gave her a ring and asked her to marry him.”

      Casmir Balasi, wife material? A two-headed viper would be more fun.

      “This isn’t going to work.” Pierce closed the file. “We didn’t get along in Austria.”

      “Then you know her?”

      “She was the agent that doubled for Nadja Stefn that day in Austria on Glass Mountain.”

      “If you had a conflict with her, why isn’t it in your report?”

      Because he had never expected to ever see her again, Pierce wanted to say. He didn’t. Instead he made a suggestion. “Maybe Ash Kelly could take this one. I hear he’s been back a few weeks.”

      “It’s true Ash has returned from his sabbatical. He seems a hundred percent, but I’d hate to find out otherwise on a mission of this importance. To be honest, he never made the list of candidates. After I discussed potential operatives with Polax, he picked you as the lucky winner.”

      Pierce muttered under his breath.

      “What was that?”

      “Indigestion.”

      “This mission will require a man who can stay focused and in control.” Merrick grinned. “We both know you have a knack for that. You’ve proven to us more than once that you can straddle an electric fence in a knife fight and never break a sweat. That’s your gift, Pierce—patience and adaptability. Not to mention your dead aim. I’ve never seen a man who can keep a cigarette lit in the eye of a hurricane better than you can. How many times have you been shot now?”

      “I’ve lost count.”

      “My point. It’s that resilience that I’m counting on.”

      Bad weather, he could handle. Eating a bullet, no problem. But babysitting a bitch with more attitude than brains… He’d volunteer for a bullet in the middle of the Arctic any day.

      In his entire thirty-five years no one had been able to get under his skin the way Balasi had. If he was forced to do this, he was the one who was going to need an extended sabbatical…in a padded cell.

      He asked, “What’s up with the mother? How does she fit into this?”

      “There’s an interesting story behind Ruza Balasi. She’s somewhat of a legend in Europe. A retired stage actress. Polax tells me Yurii Petrov tried to kidnap her a few days ago. He wants her to vanish for a while. That’s where your friend Lazie comes in.”

      “Is she another hurricane?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “You know the saying. Like mother, like daughter.”

      “In this case, more than you know. Polax shared some interesting facts with me. A little history I wasn’t aware of. Want to hear more?”

      “If I say yes, does that lock me in?”

      “You were locked in the moment Polax took a look at you, then read your file.”

      “I’m still not sold on the idea.”

      “You’ve got what it takes to pull this off. I know it, and you do, too. It’s not going to be easy, and it might not end up picture perfect—rarely do missions go as planned. But I’m in agreement with Polax. You’re the man. One more thing. When this is over, Casmir Balasi must be alive. If she’s not breathing air, you and I will be facing a firing squad, along with Polax. That’s no bullshit.”

      Chapter 3

      “Oh, Mama, your eye… Does it hurt?”

      “Of course it hurts.”

      “It looks…ghastly.”

      “Thank you, Cassie. I feel so much better knowing that we both agree I look terrible.”

      They had left Prague’s Ruzyne Airport on a commercial flight headed for the U.S. Ruza was dressed all in black. As usual, her silver-gray hair was neat and glamorous, twisted into a low knot at the nape of her neck, secured with a diamond clip.

      Casmir always admired the fact that her mother looked stunning no matter what. Black eye and all, at age fifty-two, Ruza Balasi was a vintage classic. She knew what color looked best to complement her flawless complexion, and what to eat to keep her slender five-eight figure below 120.

      Her mother slipped her sunglasses back into place. “Is this going to remain a surprise or are you going to tell me where we’re going? I haven’t taken a vacation with you in years. I’m looking forward to some extravagant shopping, and dining out every night.”

      Casmir settled into her seat, contemplating how to tell her mother that their vacation spot wasn’t going to be a sandy beach in the Mediterranean, or a shopping extravaganza in Paris.

      “This is a work vacation, Mama. I can’t play the entire time.”

      “That’s fine. Just point me in the direction of the most expensive dress shop and I’ll be happy.”

      “My boss said—”

      “Such a nice man, Mr. Polax.”

      Casmir raised her perfectly СКАЧАТЬ