Court knew there was no way he and the other two assets of Poison Apple were going to get to go to the castle itself, so he was surprised when it came into view on a cliff above Loch Ness.
They overflew the massive white building, and as they came in for a landing Brewer revealed that Court had been correct in his assumption. She spoke into her headset’s microphone. “You three aren’t getting on the premises. Five Eyes security is too tight. We’ll put you up in a safe house we have in Inverness, ten minutes out. Jason is cleared to go to the Five Eyes conference; he was coming anyway as a gopher for Matt, so he’ll leave with me. I want you rested but ready to move as soon as we find out where Zakharov is staging for the attack.”
Brewer and Jason climbed out of the helo, and it took off again immediately. Twenty minutes later it dropped Zack, Court, and Zoya off on a street north of the city of Inverness. They walked for twenty minutes before finding a cab, which took them to their safe house on Fairfield Road, just west of the River Ness.
The accommodations were a simple two-story building on a residential street. Court and Zoya ended up upstairs in a room together, and even though Zack had the apartment downstairs all to himself, he almost immediately came upstairs and opened bottles of beer he found in the refrigerator for all three.
Zoya asked Zack if he’d found any vodka around the house, and he told her he hadn’t; at this time of the night it was the beer or nothing.
Zoya took a long swig, then said, “So . . . you two worked together, I take it?”
Court said, “Zack and I have a little history together. Some of it is good.”
“And the rest?”
“He tried to kill me,” Court said, matter-of-factly. And then added, “Twice.”
“And you shot me,” Zack replied. “Once.”
“So far,” Court said.
Court finished his beer and went to the bathroom to take a shower. His aches and pains were unabating, and he thought a painkiller and a hot shower would do him good.
When he was gone, Zack and Zoya drank beer in silence, till Zack said, “Good ole Court. Hell of a guy. But you know there’s no future, don’t you?”
Zoya pretended to look disinterested. “Why do you say that?”
“Dude has issues. He will never get off the hamster wheel. He lives for the righteous grind of fighting for what he believes in. He’ll keep kicking in doors, halo jumping onto targets, and smoking the worst of the worst till that day his number comes up. Might be tomorrow, might be next week, might be ten years.” He chugged beer, then shook his head. “Nah. It won’t be ten years.”
“And you? You’re planning on quitting all this to work in a hardware store so you can raise a family?”
“No, lady, I love the work almost as much as Six does. But I don’t have this chip on my shoulder about fighting all evil, everywhere, all the time. I punch in, do what my country tells me to do, then punch out.” He smiled at her, raised an eyebrow. “I’d be home for the wife and kids, should that be something you’re into.”
Zoya kept looking at the big man with the beard. Finally she said, “You’re hitting on me? Sorry, it kind of seems that way, but I can’t tell for sure.”
“I’m just sayin’. A woman needs a man.”
“That’s in the Bible, isn’t it?”
“Actually I picked it up from a porno.”
Zoya shook her head in disbelief. “Court needs better friends. I’m not as good a person as he is. I know that without question, but I wouldn’t hurt him. I would be there for him, just like he’s been there for me.”
Zack shrugged. “I’m always there for him.”
“When the assignment you’re on calls for you to be?”
“The rules of the job, sister. If Six is my partner, we’ll take down armies. If Six is my target, then I’ll put a bullet in his eye.”
“Always there for him,” she said dryly.
“Life’s a bitch, girl.”
Court stepped back into the living room to grab his phone, then looked them both over when they went quiet.
Zoya said, “We were just talking about you.”
“God, I wish you wouldn’t.”
* * *
• • •
Zack overstayed his welcome but finally took the hint to go down to his room, and Zoya pulled out a medical kit and opened it, preparing to put fresh bandages on Court’s hand when he got out of the shower.
He sat next to her and placed his arm gingerly on the kitchen table.
Court said, “I need a trigger finger and a thumb to wrap around a grip if I have to shoot left-handed. Otherwise, immobilize the hand.”
Zoya said, “That’s crazy.”
“Just do it. Please.”
She complied with his wishes, using a splint from the medical kit, wrapping him, then taping everything securely. As she worked on this Court glanced at the medical equipment. It was a robust collection of medicines, wound care supplies, even heavy tranquilizers and drugs to counter poisons or drug overdoses.
Hardly a normal first-aid kit you’d find in a typical residential home.
Court said, “I wish someday you and I could do something normal.”
Zoya continued wrapping his hand with tape. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. What do normal people do? Catch a movie, I guess.”
Zoya laughed. “We’re in a movie, Court. Just not the kind I want to be in.”
Soon his hand was mummified save for his fingers and his thumb.
He opened and closed it, wincing while he did so. She saw his discomfort. “You can’t tape the pain away.”
“I know.”
“What’s recoil from a rifle going to feel like?” she asked.
“It’s going to suck.” He looked up at her. “This is all going to suck.”
“Not all of it,” she said, and she stood and took his hand. He followed her into the bedroom.
“Did the shower make you feel better?”
“I’m a new man,” he said as she began to undress.
Brewer had specifically ordered them to rest, but this was another order Zoya and Court decided to ignore. They made love passionately; difficult for Court with a broken hand, but he was motivated, and he found a way.
* * *
• • •
When it was over, Zoya joked with him. “Did I hurt you?”