We disembarked the plane together, but Christine could have been a million miles away. There was a definite divide between us and nothing could break through. She was suddenly all business; not even my terrible attempts at humor could crack her professional veneer and force a smile.

I decided to take my lead from her. After all, we were here with a job to do; and not just any job, but one that could save the lives of dozens of people and take a dangerous criminal off the streets. I tried to keep my mind focused, but it was difficult when I could still smell Christine on my skin—and more than once I found myself staring at her as we made our way through the cursory security check and into the waiting car.

“Are you OK?” I asked, once we were alone in the car.

“Of course,” she answered curtly.

“If I’ve done something to upset you…” I began, waiting for her to interrupt with her protestations—but she said nothing. She just stared at the floor, her face flushed with embarrassment.

I began to realize what I might be dealing with. This wasn’t about us; it was about her. I should have realized when she was so shy and awkward during our love making; she wasn’t as experienced as I had imagined or expected her to be. I’d forgotten that some pretty girls don’t realize just how pretty they are. To some men, like me, that’s a turn-on. Others see them as frigid and steer clear. I looked over at Christine. Boy, the men in the UK didn’t know what they were missing.

I smiled to myself as I looked out the window. I guess I should be flattered that someone like Christine had let herself go with me—for me, in a sense. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I knew that I should treat it as a gift; and that like any gift, it was rude to keep pressing for another one.

Part of me wanted to sweep her into my arms right away and tell her not to doubt herself ever again, but another, more practical part of me, knew I needed to give her the time she needed to process everything—and then, of course, I also needed to make sure that her sharp-as-a-tack mind was focused on Al-Farook. She’d made more breakthroughs in the case in twelve hours than I had in six months. It would be selfish of me to distract her with persistent flirtation when I—when everyone—needed her mind on the job.

We were coming into the center of Antwerp now; it was a small city, known mainly for its flourishing diamond trade, and was home to several stores and even a few high—level brokerages. If I’d been thinking straight, it was absolutely the most logical place for an Al-Farook attack.

I cleared my throat.

“I guess my grandad must have fought around here during the Second World War,” I said. Christine looked up at me, surprised.

“Your grandad fought for the Allies in World War Two?”

“Well, it’s not as if he fought for the Nazis!” Finally, I coaxed a smile out of her. “How about your family?”

Christine shook her head. “My grandad was too young for the war, but he did National Service in Germany about the time the Berlin Wall was going up.”

“Tough times,” I went on. “I remember my mom telling me stories about the 1960s. She always said the fear of nuclear war was so real back then. It wasn’t a question of if, but when.”

Christine said nothing. “My mom died a few years ago, from cancer,” I went on, not even sure why I was telling her this.

“Mine, too. Well, she died last year, actually.” Christine was giving me her full attention now. “She made it to see me become an MI5 agent. Proudest day of her life, she said.”

“I bet. My mom brought me up by herself—I’m sure she’s the reason I’m such a stubborn son of a bitch.”

Christine laughed, before turning serious. “You didn’t know your dad at all?”

I shrugged. “He was around. I saw him at Christmas, and the odd other times during the year. He married again—a younger woman.” In the glare of a passing street lamp, I saw Christine roll her eyes. “How about you? Did you have a good relationship with your dad?”

“Never knew him,” Christine replied. “My mom’s life was kind of complicated around the time I was born. She, well, she wasn’t really sure who my dad was.”

I watched Christine intently. I really had been given such a rare gift. Not only had this beautiful and fragile girl given herself to me, but now she was opening up emotionally, too. This was as clear a demonstration of trust as I had ever seen, and I had a responsibility not to destroy that trust.

We rode in silence for a few minutes, but, just as we pulled up at our destination, Christine flashed me one of her amazing smiles.

We were going to be OK.

* * *

The car had taken us straight to the diamond district, even though none of the shops were open yet. The sun was just beginning to rise, and street lamps were flickering off one by one. Our local contact, a police officer named Henri, was giving us a guided tour of the streets and business in the diamond district, so we could get an idea of the lay of the land. He was worryingly handsome in his uniform, and he and Christine spoke in French a lot of the time, smiling occasionally at jokes I was sure were at my expense.

As we approached the final shop in a row of three, my phone began to ring. It was Warick.

“Hi, Adam,” I said as I answered. “Got anything for me on those photos?”

“Even better, Jason,” said Warick. “I’m here in Antwerp to lend you my expertise in person.”

I was stunned into silence for a few moments, but recovered quickly to ask the key question: “How on earth did you get here so quickly from the States?”

“States, dear boy? No, I was in Paris. On business. I’m sure I told you that?”

I racked my brain. I’m sure I would’ve remembered if Warick had told me he was in Europe, too. Perhaps with everything that had happened in the last few days it had slipped my mind, but that didn’t feel like me.

“Well,” I responded hesitantly. “That’s great, but I’m not sure what you can do. I mean, I can’t have a civilian involved in a live operation!”

“Good God, no,” Warick said in disgust. “I don’t want anything to do with the rough stuff. Leave that to all you young chaps, anyway. No, I mean I can introduce you to some of the local diamond merchants. Help you gain their trust. We’re a closed-off little group, Jason. Don’t like outsiders!”

I relaxed a little. “That would be very useful, actually. Shall we meet for breakfast later at your hotel?”

“It’s a date,” Warick replied with a giggle. “I’ll send you the details.”

I turned to Christine and cleared my throat. For some reason, I was nervous about telling her that Warick was here. I sensed that she didn’t trust him, and to be honest, he hadn’t really given her any reason to.

“Was that Warick?” she asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

I nodded. “He’s in Antwerp.”

Christine said nothing, but turned and walked away to where Henri was directing his officers to their surveillance positions. Was I losing that precious trust already?