Near Dark (Scot Harvath #19)(109)
“No,” Harvath replied. “For right now, it’s only going to be four. But bookmark that page, just in case we ever have to come back.”
CHAPTER 55
ROOFTOP RESTAURANT, THE THIEF HOTEL
OSLO, NORWAY
Holidae Hayes lifted her glass of champagne and said, “To the new Deputy Director of the NIS’s Strategy Section.”
S?lvi looked around to make sure no one was listening and then clinked glasses. It wasn’t something they should be discussing out in public. “Thank you,” she said as they both took a sip.
“And,” Hayes continued, “I hear that Landsbergis is going to be promoted from acting head to official Director of VSD in Lithuania.”
“We’re hearing the same thing. I need to send him a thank-you note.”
“Why? For helping you and Harvath?”
“I can’t go too far into it, but a couple of years ago I was in Lithuania and needed medical attention. Diplomatically speaking, it was a sensitive situation. Carl reached out to him and Landsbergis provided a doctor, no questions asked.”
“It sounds to me like we’ve got the right man in Vilnius.”
S?lvi agreed and they clinked glasses again.
Hayes’s phone chimed and she looked down. “You’re going to hate me, but I’ve got to get going.”
“What are you talking about? Landsbergis may get a thank-you note, but you get an entire thank-you lunch.”
“I wish I could stay, I’m really sorry, but we’ve got a huge VIP in town. You wouldn’t believe the list of things I have to tackle.”
S?lvi wasn’t happy. “Holidae, we just opened a wonderful bottle of champagne and the oysters haven’t even arrived yet. You can’t leave.”
“You’ll be fine,” her friend assured her, standing up and giving her kisses on both cheeks. “Let’s get together next week. Okay?”
The Norwegian smiled at her CIA counterpart and nodded. “I’d like that. Good luck with your VIP.”
“Thank you,” Hayes replied as she gathered her things and began walking away. “I’m going to need it.”
Rearranging the cushions behind her, S?lvi turned to look out over the fjord. Kicking off her shoes, she put her feet on the bench and pulled her knees in close. She watched as the beautiful boats crossed back and forth. Taking a sip of champagne, she wished that she were on one.
Taking another sip of champagne, she wished that she was out there with Scot. He was the first man, since her divorce, and outside of Carl, whom she trusted.
Leaving him in France had been remarkably hard and it had freaked the hell out of her. She had worked with plenty of male agents, within Norway and elsewhere. Never had she ended an op feeling what she could only describe as being “heartsick.” Who the hell was this American to have such a hold on her?
In all fairness, she had been scared by how she felt, and as soon as Harvath’s team had arrived, she had run from France and Mont-Saint-Michel as fast as she could.
Now, she was back in her happy place—up on the roof of The Thief, wishing she was out on the water and trying not to think too hard about what the future might hold.
That was when someone stepped into the sunlight and cast a shadow across her table. She had always thought they should teach servers to avoid that.
But looking up, she saw that it wasn’t a server.
Harvath was standing there in front of her with an empty champagne glass.
“May I join you?” he asked.
S?lvi smiled. “You two planned this, didn’t you?”
Harvath smiled back and sat down. “All I know is that when a VIP like me comes to town, everything has got to be perfect.”
“You know life isn’t perfect, right?”
“For the moment,” he said, “let’s just pretend it is.”
God, she was so gorgeous, he thought, as he helped himself to some champagne. She was wearing a simple sundress and she looked so beautiful.
S?lvi hated to ruin the moment. Nevertheless, she had to ask, “I’m assuming you got to the bottom of who took out the contract on you. Was it the Russians?”
“It was a Russian.”
“President Peshkov?”
“No,” Harvath replied, “but someone very close to him. A friend from childhood, Nikolai Nekrasov.”
Her eyes widened. “The Russian mobster?”
“Billionaire Russian mobster,” he clarified. “He was also the godfather of Peshkov’s son.”
“So this was about revenge.”
“And now it’s over.”
S?lvi had a thousand more questions that she wanted to ask, but it was obvious he didn’t want to discuss it. That was okay. Like he had said, it was over. And she was so glad to see him.
After a few moments, she noticed that his face had changed. It was softer somehow. “You’re thinking about something,” she said. “What is it?”
He decided not to beat around the bush.
“I like you,” he replied. “And I’ve felt incredibly guilty about that. I didn’t want to stop liking you, though. So, I asked Lara for a sign. It’s crazy and I know it. I didn’t remember right away that today was the anniversary of my first date with her. Then, in the flight lounge in France, waiting for the plane to get fueled to come up here, I saw a magazine. Its headline was about how Norway is the future. Under that, was an article about the immutable wisdom of Jean-Paul Sartre.