conduct the preflight checks while they board.”
“Excellent—have him get under way as soon as possible.” Christian prepared to greet his guests.
Sergei was first through, followed closely by Antoinette carrying a rucksack over her shoulder and a long woodencase. Both glanced around the interior of the refurbished Boeing 747 with wide-eyed awe.
“Intel sure knows how to fly its agents in style,” Sergei said.
“Actually, this is my own personal jet,” Christian said. “It was a commercial aircraft I had refitted. The accommodations are down here and up the stairs are the comms center and my office.
He felt Antoinette’s gaze on him, but when he looked at her, she turned away.
“Viktor, you remember Sergei Petrescu and this is his niece. Antoinette, this is Viktor Dushic, a fellow Intel agent and a friend.”
She threw Viktor a cool, tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Sorry we’re late,” Sergei said as he sank into the large leather seat beside Viktor and propped his walking stick against his knee.
“That’s all right. We know what it’s like traveling with a woman. I was just discussing that very topic with Christian.”
Viktor had that look in his eye—the one that meant trouble. Christian cringed inwardly. Sure enough, Antoinette didn’t disappoint. The glare she gave Viktor would’ve frozen the fires of Hades.
“Actually, it’s my fault,” Sergei said, throwing his niece a stern look. “Well, my wife’s really. She hates it when I leave home and spends ages making sure I’ve forgotten nothing.”
“Aunt Katerina’s just worried about you.” She may have been talking to her uncle but she stared directly at Viktor, who arched his eyebrow. He was definitely enjoying baiting her. Christian tried to silence him with a warning glare, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Viktor was having far too much fun and seemed determined to push her buttons.
“Well then, once we get the rest of your luggage on board, we’ll be able to take off.”
“I do believe you are trying to get a rise out of me.” Shelaid the wooden case on a nearby chair and placed her hands on her hips. “Only vain or stupid people carry more than they need and I have everything in these two cases.” She paused, looking Viktor up and down. “Besides, I doubt there’d be any room left once your bags had been loaded—even on a plane this size.”
“Ouch.” Viktor theatrically slapped his hand over his heart and winked. “And what is it you have in the case? A flute? Perhaps an oboe? No, no, I got it—you’re a pool hustler.”
The corners of Antoinette’s mouth twitched. Christian hated his friend at that moment. He knew damned well it was her weapons. Antoinette undid the clips of the wooden case and opened the lid. She took out the beautiful black and red katana Christian had seen her use in Miami.
Viktor whistled though his teeth. “Careful, little girl—you might cut yourself with that thing.” The twinkle in his eye grew brighter.
Antoinette returned a tight, deadly smile and flicked out the blade then slid it down the front of Viktor’s shirt and resheathed it again almost before he’d known what’d hit him.
Viktor took a sip of his wine, the epitome of calmness as he looked down at his now open, buttonless shirt. “If you wanted me to undress, all you had to do was ask.”
“Stop teasing our guest, Viktor.” Christian tried to keep his voice even, and failed. She may have meant it as intimidation but it had been far too intimate for his liking.
Viktor gazed pointedly at Christian over the top of his glass as Antoinette laid the blade back in its bed of blue velvet and clipped the case shut.
“Mary will help you with your bags before we get under way.” Christian signaled to get the flight attendant.
Antoinette gave her pack to the woman but kept the wooden case.
“It’s all right—I’ll make sure it’s stowed safely,” Mary said as she bent to take the case from
“Excellent—have him get under way as soon as possible.” Christian prepared to greet his guests.
Sergei was first through, followed closely by Antoinette carrying a rucksack over her shoulder and a long woodencase. Both glanced around the interior of the refurbished Boeing 747 with wide-eyed awe.
“Intel sure knows how to fly its agents in style,” Sergei said.
“Actually, this is my own personal jet,” Christian said. “It was a commercial aircraft I had refitted. The accommodations are down here and up the stairs are the comms center and my office.
He felt Antoinette’s gaze on him, but when he looked at her, she turned away.
“Viktor, you remember Sergei Petrescu and this is his niece. Antoinette, this is Viktor Dushic, a fellow Intel agent and a friend.”
She threw Viktor a cool, tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Sorry we’re late,” Sergei said as he sank into the large leather seat beside Viktor and propped his walking stick against his knee.
“That’s all right. We know what it’s like traveling with a woman. I was just discussing that very topic with Christian.”
Viktor had that look in his eye—the one that meant trouble. Christian cringed inwardly. Sure enough, Antoinette didn’t disappoint. The glare she gave Viktor would’ve frozen the fires of Hades.
“Actually, it’s my fault,” Sergei said, throwing his niece a stern look. “Well, my wife’s really. She hates it when I leave home and spends ages making sure I’ve forgotten nothing.”
“Aunt Katerina’s just worried about you.” She may have been talking to her uncle but she stared directly at Viktor, who arched his eyebrow. He was definitely enjoying baiting her. Christian tried to silence him with a warning glare, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Viktor was having far too much fun and seemed determined to push her buttons.
“Well then, once we get the rest of your luggage on board, we’ll be able to take off.”
“I do believe you are trying to get a rise out of me.” Shelaid the wooden case on a nearby chair and placed her hands on her hips. “Only vain or stupid people carry more than they need and I have everything in these two cases.” She paused, looking Viktor up and down. “Besides, I doubt there’d be any room left once your bags had been loaded—even on a plane this size.”
“Ouch.” Viktor theatrically slapped his hand over his heart and winked. “And what is it you have in the case? A flute? Perhaps an oboe? No, no, I got it—you’re a pool hustler.”
The corners of Antoinette’s mouth twitched. Christian hated his friend at that moment. He knew damned well it was her weapons. Antoinette undid the clips of the wooden case and opened the lid. She took out the beautiful black and red katana Christian had seen her use in Miami.
Viktor whistled though his teeth. “Careful, little girl—you might cut yourself with that thing.” The twinkle in his eye grew brighter.
Antoinette returned a tight, deadly smile and flicked out the blade then slid it down the front of Viktor’s shirt and resheathed it again almost before he’d known what’d hit him.
Viktor took a sip of his wine, the epitome of calmness as he looked down at his now open, buttonless shirt. “If you wanted me to undress, all you had to do was ask.”
“Stop teasing our guest, Viktor.” Christian tried to keep his voice even, and failed. She may have meant it as intimidation but it had been far too intimate for his liking.
Viktor gazed pointedly at Christian over the top of his glass as Antoinette laid the blade back in its bed of blue velvet and clipped the case shut.
“Mary will help you with your bags before we get under way.” Christian signaled to get the flight attendant.
Antoinette gave her pack to the woman but kept the wooden case.
“It’s all right—I’ll make sure it’s stowed safely,” Mary said as she bent to take the case from
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