Page 49 of Ford
“What?” York popped to his feet. “What is she supposed to do? Hang out in my safe house?”
“For starters—”
“No. I’m going after Gustov. There’s no way—”
“I do have another way out if you’ll just take a breath and listen.” David had found his feet too. “I have a contact in Khabarovsk, in Far East Russia. A buddy of mine who is married to an American doctor. He used to be FSB, but now he’s with the military, does spec ops training. He’ll get you out via Vladivostok.”
York blinked at him. “That’s all the way across the country. And it’s not like she can hop a plane—”
“You’ll take the Trans-Siberian Railway.”
The railroad. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s…that’s a seven-day trip.”
“Seven more days for this thing to cool down and for us to find the general’s shooter. The real one.” He cast a look at RJ. “No offense.”
“Sorry. I’m just not as inept as York thinks I am.”
“York thinks everyone is inept.” David smirked.
York glared at him.
David stood up. “Listen. Get her back to your flat. Lie low. We’ll get you fresh passports and tickets.”
York noticed the plural and glanced at RJ, back to David.I just don’t want you to depend on me, okay? Start thinking I’m going to come to your rescue. I’m not that guy.
“York doesn’t have to go with me,” RJ said. “I’ll be fine by myself.”
And his mouth opened without his permission. “Two tickets will work. I’ll fly back to Moscow when we get to Vladivostok.”
But it felt right.
After all, she’d done everything he’d told her to do.
David nodded, glanced at RJ. “If it matters, I think you did a very brave thing.” He reached out for York’s hand. “Come back anytime. We miss you.” Then he let himself out the gated door.
RJ sat there, saying nothing.
“Sorry,” York said, suddenly wanting to do something crazy, like maybe put his arms around her.
“No,I’msorry,” she said, getting on her feet. “I’m sorry I’m causing you so much trouble. Let’s just get back to your place so I can take a shower and get out of these clothes.”
He followed her out, and she ducked her head as they headed down the dusky street. She didn’t take his hand as they descended to the metro or as they stood on the platform, and as she got into the car, she walked over to a molded seat and sat down. Kept her face away from the passengers.
He didn’t want to get rid of her that badly.
In fact—“I know where you can get a pizza in this town, if you’re interested.”
She glanced up at him, and the faintest smile appeared. “Sweeter words were never spoken.”
So maybe having her around for a few more days wouldn’t kill him.
As long as he could keep her alive.
He brought her to a place off Kropotkinskaya, a modern café with pizza on foil, and they shared it over a couple dark beers. “There’s a place in Geraldine, near my family’s ranch, called Ravioli’s, and they serve a crazy good pizza.”
“Your family has a ranch?”
“In Montana. About nine thousand acres. My brother breeds bucking bulls for the rodeo too.”