Ian sat on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial and waited. It was sunset and the Tidal Basin glowed gold and orange. Behind him, Thomas Jefferson stood inside the round marble building, the words of the Declaration of Independence ringing the walls.

It was Ian’s favorite spot in Washington. A soft breeze blew his hair. Tourists were still walking up the steps to the memorial and would be for hours yet. In the distance a man jogged along the path beneath the trees. He was both preceded and followed by men who jogged with him but were also there to protect him.

Ian sighed. How the hell Mark DeWitt sat a heartbeat away from the presidency was a constant source of amazement. He liked President Campbell, but what the man had been thinking to choose this particular loon as a running mate was completely beyond him. DeWitt had no respect for the office and no respect for government. He was in it to enrich himself.

Ian stood and went over to the edge of the water. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited. DeWitt slowed to a walk as he approached. The Secret Service men fanned out around him, keeping their distance but also remaining close enough to leap into action should it be required.

The tourists had no idea the vice president was in their midst. It was typical of tourists really. Nobody looked the same in person as they did on television. Also, when you were used to seeing a man in a suit and tie, you rarely made the connection with another version of him. This Mark DeWitt was just another sweaty guy out for a jog.

To the untrained eye, the agents accompanying him looked like a random group of men who weren’t even together. The old saw about hiding in plain sight was certainly true in this case.

“Black,” DeWitt said as he walked up and gazed out at the water. He didn’t stand too close to Ian, but they could talk without yelling.

“Sir. You’re looking fit.”

DeWitt put a hand to his belly. “This job will kill you if you don’t make time to exercise.”

“Speaking of jobs… Do you have one for me?”

“I need you to go to Moscow.”

“Why?”

“Do you know John Mendez? HOT?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“I need you to find him. He’s dangerous. He has to be stopped before he causes more damage to US-Russian relations.”

“Sounds like a mission for SEAL Team Six,” Ian drawled. Because he loved sticking it to this guy. If this were on the up and up, the military would be the ones going in. It wasn’t though, and they both knew it.

DeWitt’s face was already red from jogging, though Ian suspected it was growing a little redder at the moment. He didn’t like being confronted, even if it was subtle.

“We can’t do anything official. It has to be someone like you. Off the books. A mercenary.” DeWitt looked beyond him for a second. Nodded. “I have to get moving. Someone will be in touch with the details.”

“Yes, sir,” Ian said as DeWitt jogged away. Ian watched the slimy bastard go and then took out his phone. He had to get his strike team together—and, once he had more information from DeWitt, he had to tell Phoenix what he was about to do. Well, most of what he was about to do. Some things he kept to himself. Safer that way.

* * *

They made the entirety of the journey without incident and disembarked in Novosibirsk two days later. It was early May, but it was still cold enough for coats. Eventually the temperature would climb into the sixties—but not yet. Today wasn’t quite forty. Practically a heat wave for Siberia. The streets were dirty from snow that had melted and frozen a few times, picking up soot and dirt along the way. In summer, everything would be green and pretty, but right now the city was like a baby swan trying to find its way. The ugly duckling would be beautiful in a few weeks, but not just yet.

Kat’s heart thumped as they strode from the train station. She told herself to stop being so damned emotional. To get over it and keep on moving because there was nothing to be done for it now.

She was tough. She’d been trained to be a warrior. She did not lose control of her emotions. And yet she couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down her cheeks or the sob threatening to burst free as she followed Johnny through the station. It was not like her, and yet she had no control of it.

He stopped to say something to her. His eyes widened as he took in her tear-streaked cheeks.

“Jesus—what’s wrong, solnishko?”

She liked that he called her Sunshine. Much better than baby or honey or doll.

She swiped at her tears angrily. “Nothing. I am being sentimental.”

He surprised her by grasping her shoulders and pulling her to him. His body was warm and hard and she turned her cheek to lie against his chest and breathed deeply. He threaded a hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head, and rubbed softly.

“It’s ridiculous,” she said. “It was a long time ago.”

“How could it be ridiculous? You’re talking about losing a child. I don’t think you ever get over that.”

No, she didn’t either. She was beginning to realize that. She’d pushed the pain so deep that she’d been able to pretend she’d made her peace with it. But she hadn’t.

“Maybe not, but you shouldn’t randomly cry about it years later,” she said.

He held her lightly but firmly. She wanted to burrow in and never leave the circle of his arms.

“Apparently you do.” He skimmed his fingers up and down the back of her coat. She wished like hell the barrier between them wasn’t so thick. “My mother did too, by the way. My sister drowned when she was three. You don’t get over that.”

Kat pushed back so she could see his face. “I didn’t know that.” It occurred to her after she said it that it was an odd statement coming from her. From Valentina, not so much. But Kat wasn’t supposed to know this man as well as her “sister” had. What she’d said had sounded like I know so much about you but didn’t know that.

Was that suspicion in his gaze? It disappeared so fast she wasn’t certain. She was going to have to be more careful.

“My mother had random crying jags for the rest of her life. Still does, though I’m not sure she knows why anymore. She has Alzheimer’s and lives in a home.”

Kat squeezed him. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Not trying to make this about me. Just wanted you to know you aren’t abnormal. Grief isn’t static, and it doesn’t follow a timetable.”

So many things she wanted to say to him. So many reasons why she couldn’t. “Thank you.”

He let her go, and she stepped away even though what she really wanted was to press herself to him and stay safe and warm. They stared at each other without moving until her skin began to itch with the urge to touch him.

“Where’s he buried?” he asked.

“Not too far from here.”

“Do you want to go?”

Did she? A bubble of panic welled up in her throat. She swallowed it down. “I don’t think I can—but maybe I need to.”

He took her hand and led her toward the exit. They found a taxi and got inside. She told the driver where to go. The ride didn’t take long, and they soon found themselves at the entrance to a cemetery. It was older, more run-down than some of the others. The gravestones were chipped, some covered in moss and lichen. There was a newer section where Roman, Peter, and Ludmilla were buried.

Kat stood inside the gates and dragged in a breath. It frosted when she let it out again, curling around her. Snow still covered the ground, but it wasn’t deep and the walkway was clear. Johnny was speaking with the taxi driver, presumably to ask him to wait. He appeared at her side suddenly, his presence oddly shocking in a way. How had she agreed to this?

For a moment, she didn’t think she could go through with it. She spun to him, panic bubbling upward, threatening to blow like a volcano at any moment. “You don’t have to go. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

His expression was so very serious. His dark eyes regarded her evenly, but a fire burned behind them. He had a beard now—silver and black, so freaking sexy. She wanted to feel it against her body.

“I’m going with you.” His gaze lifted as he studied the walls of the cemetery, the gray sky with its heavy clouds.

A cold wind surged just then, whipping her hair into her face. She dragged the strands back and shoved them behind her ears.

“We need to stick together,” he told her. “It’s more dangerous now.”

She nodded and walked through the gates. She didn’t waste time. No strolling along, contemplating the mysteries of the universe. A brisk walk brought her to the gravesite. There was only one stone, a big one with three names. Johnny stopped beside her.

“He was not their son,” she said softly. “But that’s the way it had to be. I understood. And I like that he is not alone.”

Johnny didn’t answer her. She didn’t expect him to. But she glanced up at him and her heart squeezed tight. He stared at the stone, his jaw working as if he were holding something back. That’s when it hit her. Roman’s date of birth. Nine months to the day after she’d disappeared from Johnny’s life. She’d always thought she must have gotten pregnant their last night together. He wasn’t a stupid man. He could do math.

And he must surely be doing it now. Didn’t mean anything though. She pulled in a breath and huddled into her coat. Kat the twin could have been with a lover on the day her sister died.

“We need to go,” he said, his voice low and firm. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. But thank you for this.” She turned to walk away from her child’s grave, knowing she would carry the burden of his death with her always, when a bird cawed sharply and wheeled upward into the sky.

She watched it, wondering if it was a message of some kind. A gunshot cracked against the silence of the cemetery. Kat dropped.