Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
As they wound farther into the park, large trees crowded closer, their leaves blocking the view of the château. In the center of the path was a fountain with a bronze statue of the goddess Diana holding a stag by the horns. She’d gone green with age and weather, but she was still a magnificent figure. On four sides of her circular pedestal were hounds that appeared to be urinating into the pool.
Edward looked over at Daniel to find him frowning at the statue as well.
“Why did they have to be urinating?” Daniel asked as if he’d read Edward’s mind.
“What would you rather?” countered a new, heavily accented voice.
Edward spun around, reaching for the gun hidden at the small of his back under the light jacket he’d pulled on. It was already growing too warm for the damn thing, but it was his only way of hiding the weapon from view.
A tall, slender man stepped onto the path from where he’d been hidden behind a tree. His beard and mustache curved neatly around his mouth and ended with his pointed chin. Edward knew that dark eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Sergei looked like a Frenchman on holiday with his white polo shirt and linen slacks, but the man was a Russian spy, and usually a damn good one. They’d encountered each other on more than one occasion and generally agreed to keep their distance.
He stood in the middle of the path with both of his hands open and held out to his sides. For now, he was unarmed, but Edward didn’t trust it for a second. He was also sure that Sergei was not alone.
“Would you rather the water was coming out of their mouths?” Sergei continued.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Daniel wrinkling his nose at the image of the hounds perpetually vomiting up water.
“No, that isn’t better,” Daniel muttered.
Sergei gave a little shrug and dropped his hands back at his sides. “C’est la vie, as the French like to say. The spoiled royals thought it was classy to have their dogs pissing around a Roman goddess.”
“Sergei,” Edward said in greeting, hoping to get them on track finally.
“Carlos,” Sergei replied with a smirk.
Edward inwardly flinched and prayed that Daniel didn’t react to the name. He’d forgotten it was the alias that Sergei knew him by. The moment was immediately surpassed by Sergei turning his attention to Daniel. His thin lips spread into an almost wolfish grin like Daniel was a delicacy he wanted to feast upon.
“And you…are not Kevin Jones.”
Daniel’s shoulders stiffened and his mouth thinned to a hard line, but he didn’t speak. For that, Edward was incredibly grateful. The less either of them said, the better.
Reaching up, Sergei pulled off his glasses and looked from Edward to Daniel, then back to Edward. “But I will give you, the resemblance is remarkable. His eyes…they are kinder. And maybe something in his voice as well.” Sergei paused and stared at Daniel as if he were still trying to puzzle out what exactly the differences were between Daniel and Kevin. After several seconds, he sighed and waved the hand holding the sunglasses. “I spoke with Jones only a few times, so it’s hard to pinpoint. I’d heard a whisper that Jones was killed outside of Europe, but I wasn’t sure I believed it until now.”
“Yes, the real Jones is dead. Killed in Bermuda” Edward admitted since Sergei seemed to already have the truth of it.
The Russian agent went back to staring at Daniel, his shrewd dark eyes narrowed. They suddenly widened and he laughed, a rusty bark of noise. “You were mistaken for Jones,” he whispered.
“Correct. And I’d like him to not be involved in this. He’s an innocent civilian,” Edward quickly countered. “Why don’t you tell your people to stick to me for the rest of this little issue? Leave him out of this.”
Sergei shook his head before he started to stroll closer to them. Edward took a step backward for each of Sergei’s. He placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, directing him to move with him, around the circle, so that they remained facing the other spy. Sergei stopped when he was facing the fountain and looked up at it.
“Pretty word, isn’t it? Innocent. Are any of us really innocent?”
“I’m not in the mood, Sergei.”
“I’m sorry about your compatriots, but one of them was going to shoot him,” Daniel suddenly said.
Sergei turned his attention back to Daniel and stared at him for a moment. When he spoke, his comment was actually directed at Edward. “You’re right. Innocent is a good word for him.”
Edward was just relieved that Sergei seemed to be amused by Daniel and his situation. There was no need to apologize for the injuries and even death of the two men who had accosted them at the Métro station. It was all part of the job. Edward had survived enough encounters with Sergei over the years to know the man had a similar outlook on their job. It was all a game of chess. Sometimes pieces had to be sacrificed so the ultimate prize could be attained. It was just that they were both smart enough to make sure they weren’t at risk of being sacrificed.