Page 140 of Dark Angel
“I’m good.”
Next, Halston updated Evangeline on Bob Smith, real name Pavel Donskoy. “I’m having drinks with him tomorrow night.”
“Too dangerous,” Evangeline pushed back. “Your job is to gather information, figure out what’s going on at the embassy.”
“Ambassador Bulgrov insisted I go out with him,” Halston explained. “And the event on January 15thgot moved to the 8th.”
“Z’s got Kathrine’s NSA team listening for intel,” Sin said. “So far, nothing.”
“It must be big if there’s no chatter,” Halston said.
“Or it’s a red herring,” Sin added.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Evangeline said. “The chip in your neck is a dud. The entire batch are bad so we’re waiting on new ones. We’ll replace it when they come in.”
Halston flicked her gaze to Gabriel. A knowing look passed between them.
We have the rings. And my commitment to keep her safe.
HALSTON
At ten pastnine the following evening, Halston entered Krov bar in DC. A single pin light brightened the hostess stand.
Tonight, she’d worn a conservative black dress and black boots, pulled her hair into a tight bun, leaving her bangs to dangle over her brown-tinted eyes. In the pocket of her black coat with the faux fur collar, she clutched the lipstick gun.
“Dobryy vecher. Ya vstrechayus' s chelovekom,” she said to the hostess.Good evening. I’m meeting someone.
Halston glanced around the upscale restaurant. The quaint space was nicer than she’d expected. Black walls, low-lit pendant lights hanging into the booths and dotting the bar.
Donskoy pushed out of a booth, made his way over, his toothless grin a sight to see. He wore a long-sleeved blue shirt—his bulging chest and arms pushing against the thin layer of cotton—and very snug jeans. He’d parted his short hair on the side, slicked it down with hair product.
Steeling her spine, she launched forward. One drink, then she’d execute their plan.
“Privet, Minka.”Hello, Minka.
She forced a smile. “Mr. Smith.” Her Russian accent so familiar to her ears.
“I go with Bob,” he said in his thick Russian accent. He gestured. When they walked to the booth, he put his hand on the small of her back.
Despite the layers of fabric, her skin crawled. She slid into the booth.
“I sit close,” he said.
“No.” She pointed across the booth.
A flash of anger darkened his eyes, but he did as instructed. Rather than make small talk, she glanced around the room, eyeing the smattering of customers.
She had no idea who she expected to see, but after last night’s ambush, she was on edge.
“Ty ochen' krasivaya. Elegantnaya ledi. YA vyglyazhu khorosho. Da?” he said.You are very beautiful. Classy lady. I look nice. Yes?
A shiver skirted through her.
Do it… for Gabriel.
In order for their plan to work, she had to play along. “Yes, you look handsome, Bob.” Then, she forced a little smile. “English, for practice.”
“YA nenavizhu govorit' po-angliyski. YA nenavizhu vso v etoy vonyuchey strane,” he said.I hate speaking English. I hate everything about this stinking country.
