Page 47 of Ford

She slid her hand into his. “Why didn’t you just go home after Tasha died?”

“I don’t have a home. My parents were killed when I was a kid, and I grew up with my grandparents. They passed away over ten years ago, so…” He lifted a shoulder. “This is home now.”

“No it’s not. It’s…a safe house. It’s survival.”

He didn’t look at her. “I can’t go anywhere until Damien Gustov is dead.”

She was silent.

He finally met her gaze.

“You blame yourself for Tasha’s death.”

Well, duh. “Let’s go.”

He pulled her out of the alcove and down the street.

“What’s your plan for getting me into the consulate?”

“Remember the part where I used to work in security? We had ways of getting out of the consulate if we were attacked.”

“Really?”

He made a face. “I hate to say this, but—”

“Trust you?”

“Just this once.”

She nodded, smirking. “See?”

Oh brother.

They crossed at a light, and he continued down the sidewalk, the ornate white and gold American Center building on his right, two buildings down. He tugged her toward a two-story apartment building, opened the door, pulled her toward a gated entrance. When he pressed a four-digit code into the keypad, the metal door clicked open.

He led her through and closed it behind him, then knocked at the inside door.

It opened. A bouncer stood in the threshold and York pushed past him, turning to check on her.

Of course RJ stayed practically glued to him.

David Curtiss, Chief of Station, was waiting for him in the anterior room, looking out onto the gated complex of the consulate. Another coded metal door led out into the compound. Mid-forties, short blond hair, military background, David had worked for the embassy for the better part of a decade, but before that he’d worked undercover for various three-letter agencies. He’d taken the embassy job to be near the love of his life, a Russian woman named Yanna. They had two children, married in a church but not by the state according to rumor.

York had never met his wife.

“David.”

The man turned. His gaze cast past York to settle on RJ. He drew in a breath, shaking his head. “You really know how to get into trouble, don’t you, York?”

“She didn’t do it.”

David glanced at RJ, who didn’t move, fierce in her innocence. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but York cut back in.

“I was there. I saw the entire thing go down—she was framed. And my hunch is that Damien Gustov is behind it all. Kat tracked down the emails he intercepted in the communication between Miss Marshall and myself, and Gustov set her up. She needs to get home as soon as possible.”

David held up his hand. “I’ll stop you there. First, Kat emailed me, so I’m aware of your findings. She even sent proof, so I’m inclined to believe you.”

“Inclined? Take a look at the woman. Do you seriously think she’s an assassin?”