Court pulled up, causing Zack to stop.

“What?” Hightower said. When Court did not respond, Zack’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Six . . . you hittin’ that?”

Court didn’t answer, just closed his eyes as the pain came in waves.

“You’re hittin’ the fuckin’ Russian chick. You are, aren’t you?”

“Zack. No. I’m not.”

Hightower laughed, then started pulling on Court again, helping him with each step. “You are totally bangin’ Marina Oswald. Hot damn, good for you. Honestly didn’t know you liked girls.”

Court’s body told him he’d be pissing blood for a week now, but despite himself he laughed.

They made it into the house. Zoya shepherded Court to the bathroom, where she’d already filled the tub with two bags of ice from the freezer and turned it on cold. Jason secured the mystery woman with metal cuffs around a bedpost in a back bedroom, and now he pulled security at the front window with a Benelli shotgun and his Glock.

Zoya helped Court out of his clothes, stripping him down to his underwear as he’d done himself in London.

Zack stood in the doorway, looking on. “I always go commando, personally.”

Zoya glanced over her shoulder with annoyance. “Who’s this charmer, Court?”

She helped Court into the bathtub, slower than last time. As he sat down, he said, “Zack, Zoya. Zoya, Zack.”

Zack said, “So . . . what? You’re Agency?”

She looked to Court, who shrugged back as if to say to her, Fielding that question is your problem.

“More or less.”

Zack turned to Court. “Your kinda girl, Six.”

She added, “And Feodor Zakharov is my father.”

“Yeah, that I heard. You’re an American spook with a GRU general for a dad? How the hell does that happen?”

“I’m Russian. Former SVR.”

“Ho-ly shit. So . . . you gonna play the sweet-girl-from-Nebraska act till we let our guard down so you can knife us in the back?”

“I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, so was Marty Wheeler.”

Court said, “Who the hell is Marty Wheeler?”

Zack laughed. “While you two have been vacationing over here, I was back in the States on a mole hunt. Tracked the assistant DDS to London, ID’d him as the mole, and bagged and tagged him for ole Matt Hanley.”

Court said, “Never heard of him.”

“Yeah, well, Wheeler almost got your ass killed more than once.” He turned to Zoya. “So, in light of recent events, I’m not in a super trusting mood at the moment.”

Court said, “She’s with us, Zack. End of discussion.”

But Hightower kept at the woman. “I’m gonna keep my eyes on you, sister.” He looked her up and down. “I mean, I would even if I didn’t suspect you were an asset for the oppo, but now that I have my doubts, you’re really gonna get watched over.”

Zoya wasn’t interested in this conversation at all. “Do what you have to do, but stay out of my way.”

Zack raised an eyebrow at Court, who just shrugged.

Jason leaned into the bathroom and looked down at the bruised and broken asset in the ice bath. “Sir, you need some painkillers?”

Court thought about it. “What you got?”

“Everything from Tylenol to morphine.”

“Something in the middle would be nice.”

Jason retrieved the medical bag from the closet off the living room and began going through it. “Twenty milligrams of hydrocodone? Looking at all those contusions, I don’t think it will do more than take the edge off; it won’t get you too high.”

Court winced with the cold engulfing him now. “Ten milligrams.”

“Suit yourself,” Jason said, and he pulled out a pill.

Court swallowed it with a beer Zack brought from the fridge, then winced again as he put the beer down next to the tub. He looked back to Jason and said, “Let’s make it fifteen.”

The young man broke a tablet in half and Court drank it down with another swig of beer.

He held up his hand; the compress was still on it, but he was able to see the swelling around it. He dropped it back into the ice water.

Zoya turned to the two Americans. “Guys. He’s going to need fifteen minutes in the ice. Is somebody going to call Brewer in the meantime?”

Zack took the hint and headed towards the back of the farmhouse. He leaned into the back bedroom to snap a digital image of the shackled woman lying on the bed, then stepped into the living room and made the call, sending the image to Brewer in the process to see if she could ID her.

Brewer told Zack she’d just landed in Edinburgh and would call him back, and then Zack returned as Zoya helped Court change into jeans and a T-shirt she’d found in a guest bedroom closet in the safe house. All three of them then went into the living room, Zoya passed around beer, and they opened the cans.

Jason stood by the window looking out, gun on his hip.

Court was feeling the hydrocodone take effect, improving both his pain level and his mood. “What’s your dad up to, Zoya?”

“I still don’t know,” she admitted. “He had a group of Russian mob with him and whoever the hell that lady in the lab coat is. He admitted to me he was about to make his play, but he didn’t tell me what it was.”

Court said, “Belyakov told me it’s some sort of retributive strike. Totally unsanctioned. I think it might be related to the Five Eyes conference here.”

Zoya sat up straighter. “The Five Eyes annual meeting is here in the UK? Now?”

“In Scotland even,” Court said. “Everybody senior at Langley will be there, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Intel and counterintel sections of FBI, DIA, NSA, all there. Plus the Brits, Aussies, New Zealanders, and Canadian intelligence and counterintelligence.”

“Where is it?”

“Near Loch Ness. They’ve rented out some swanky castle for the venue.”

Zoya stood and paced animatedly. “That’s it. That’s got to be it. They have to cancel it.”

Court said, “They won’t cancel it, and Hanley won’t pass intel to the Brits unless we have enough to wrap the whole thing up. Zack might have caught our mole, but the Brits think they have one, or more than one. We need to know what the plan is. Bomb it? Security will be insane. It would be tough to get in deep enough to do enough damage.”