Court laughed, and then his phone buzzed on the table next to him. He started to reach for it with his splinted left hand but then caught himself and reached out with his right.

“Yeah?”

Suzanne Brewer said, “I need to talk to Anthem.”

Confused by this, Court said, “You have a target?”

“No. Still working on that. Anthem.”

Court handed the phone across the bed. Zoya listened quietly for several minutes. Asked a few questions that didn’t tell Court anything about the matter being discussed. She thanked Brewer, then hung up the phone and sat up. The light from the lamp at her bedside table showed him the tears in her eyes.

“My father tricked my brother into helping him with a nonsanctioned intelligence operation. My brother was accidentally radiated with polonium-226 in the process. He died because of my father.”

Christ, Court thought. What does one say to that? “I’m very sorry. What about your mother?”

Zoya shrugged. “Assassinated by the British. I understand their reasoning.”

“That’s a harsh thing to say.”

“She worked for a foreign intelligence force and her work was designed to directly damage the interests of the United Kingdom. That was her job, and she died for it. The British who ordered her death were doing their jobs, as well.” She shook her head. “No, it’s my brother’s death I can’t accept. He wasn’t part of this world.

“My brother wasn’t like me. Wasn’t like my dad or my mom. He was like you.”

Court was surprised by this. “What do you mean?”

“He was . . . innocent.”

“You see me differently than I see myself.”

Zoya wiped tears away. “That says more about me than about you. You don’t know you’re the last good guy around.”

Court most definitely did not know that, but he dropped it for a more important matter. “This information doesn’t change anything. If your father is found, Zack and I are going to go take care of him. Not you.”

“I want to be the one to kill my father. For Feo.”

Court shook his head. “No. That can’t happen. You’ll spend your whole life regretting it.”

“If you think that, then you don’t know me as well as I give you credit for.”

“I think you don’t know yourself as well as you give yourself credit for. You are furious now, rightly so, and you want revenge for your brother. But you will be damaged if you go through with it. Trust me.”

“This is because I am a woman, you are a man, and you think it’s your job to protect me.”

“No, you don’t need me to protect you. It’s because I know what it will feel like if you do it.”

“Did you kill your father?”

Court shook his head. “No . . . but I’ve done less, and have been damaged by my actions. I’m just trying to save you from that.”

Zoya gave a half nod. “Okay, you’re right.” She leaned over and kissed him.

Court sensed she was just trying to end the conversation.

He said, “Going alone after your father will either get you killed or mess you up for life. Just stay here tomorrow. It will be taken care of, and we’ll never have to talk about it.”

Zoya’s reply was firm. “I said ‘fine.’”

Court knew to drop it immediately.

They staged a firearm on each of their nightstands, then turned out the lights. Exhausted and under the effects of the hydrocodone, Court fell asleep quickly, but not Zoya.

Zoya stayed awake for hours.

CHAPTER 57

   Just after dawn Zoya woke Court with a freshly brewed cup of coffee, kissed him, and told him she was going to take a shower. Court climbed up, out of bed, and sipped coffee as he walked into the living room. Standing there in his underwear, he looked out the window at the placid residential street below.

This would be a nice place to live, he thought. Here, with Zoya. This house, this city, this country.

This life.

He was still hurting, and he’d be hurting for a while; the throb in his left hand commanded his attention, though it wasn’t the only ache in his body. But all in all he was better. He realized the sex had cleared his mind and made him the happiest he’d been in a long time.

He thought about taking a pain pill to make him looser and more ambulatory but decided against it.

Zoya had done wonders for him physically and mentally.

He checked his phone and saw a text from Zack saying he was going to go scout a location for the helicopter to pick them up that wouldn’t draw too much attention. He said he’d be a couple of hours but would be reachable at all times.

As the shower began running in the bathroom, Court took a moment to look over a map of the area on the coffee table here in the safe house. He found Castle Enrick, not too far away at all, and then looked around it at the undeveloped countryside. That church with an airstrip they were searching for could be anywhere, but he was sure the Five Eyes would have a lot of people looking for it now, and he hoped they’d get a hit.

After a few minutes the sound of the running water made him realize how much it would help his beaten body if he climbed into the shower with Zoya. He felt a wave of exhaustion hit him, rather suddenly, and he thought the water just might reenergize him. He finished his coffee and stepped into the bathroom, and immediately he could tell the shower window was open to the cool morning, because the room was only partially steamed up, though the vapor was growing.

“You’re too little to hog all the hot water,” he said, and he walked towards the curtain to open it. But he stopped when he noticed something on his left.

There, on the medicine cabinet mirror, someone had written something with their finger that the slowly rising steam was just now starting to reveal.

The first words he made out quickly. I love you. He smiled at this, reached for the shower curtain, and then read the second line of the smeared note.

And I am so, so sorry.

Court cocked his head and pulled open the curtain. Water pounded down into the empty bathtub. The window there was open, and it was just wide enough for Zoya to squeeze through.

Court turned for the door, but the movement made him dizzy suddenly. He put his hand on the wall, continued moving forward, and then stumbled. He made it out into the little hall off the living room, used the walls to keep him up for a few more feet, then fell down onto the floor behind the sofa there.

What . . . is . . . happening?

And then it hit him. He’d seen inside the medical kit here in the safe house when Zoya patched up his hand. It was full of prescription pain meds, but he’d also noticed a small liquid vial of M99, an animal tranquilizer the CIA had altered to make safe for humans. It ensured two to six hours of hard sleep to whoever took it and was even used as a nonlethal weapon as well as a tranquilizer for darts.