Love Behind the Lines by M. L. Buchman

Author:M. L. Buchman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Buchman Bookworks, Inc.
Published: 2016-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

9

“Hi, honey. Look who else decided to come along with Lesia?”

Manny just about swallowed his tongue. Their plan had included a dinner with the woman who had betrayed Mila’s—no, she was back to being Alisa for one more night—Alisa’s trust.

Just her.

Instead, the two women were followed closely by a man in full military uniform who wore the one star and no red stripes insignia of a major general of the Russian Federation.

“This is Lesia. Who I told you so much about,” Alisa was being a bubbly blond that he barely recognized, the party-girl facade worn by the Grand Duchess of sheer balls—bringing a major general to dinner. She turned to her former friend, a very attractive brunette. “And this is Manny. Isn’t he just the cutest?”

That was a new one, but Manny wasn’t going to argue.

Their escape plan was to convince Lesia to invite them out to her dacha in the country…where she apparently played mistress with her lover the general. Once clear of Sevastopol and the heavy protection surrounding the Black Sea Fleet, they could signal Patty and Quinn to meet them at the dacha, backed up by the hammer blow of the 5E Company in close support.

However, Lesia had not come alone.

“And this is Vlad,” the crazy blond hung onto the general’s arm for a moment. “He’s in charge of the Naval helicopter fleet at Kacha.” Alisa said that last bit like it was a slightly confusing throwaway line, but Manny heard “helicopter fleet” loud and clear. In that moment he forgave Alisa everything. There had to be a way to use this.

He was suddenly damn glad that he’d arranged for the fliers of the 5E to hold at thirty kilometers out, pending his final call. He wanted to avoid a reenactment of three nights ago and it was a distance they could cover in six minutes or less. Who could predict where the evening was headed.

Dinner was a strange and surreal affair. Manny’s role was pretending to be a foreign correspondent, a Canadian who had somehow finagled a visa into an area where no press were allowed. Except he knew nothing about being a reporter and his one trip to Canada had been a drunk weekend during the Stanley Cup hockey playoffs between the New York Rangers and the Montréal Canadiens.

The bait they’d dangled to get Lesia to the meal had been vague hints that Manny was only posing as a Canadian reporter and was actually Alisa’s “big” contact. A next-tier intelligence coup that Lesia would be unable to resist. So unable to resist, that she’d brought the general along to share in the glory. Perhaps if she delivered both US agents, the unmentioned wife would become powerless and the beautiful Lesia would gain the Mrs. General prize.

Throughout the meal, Alisa teased and flirted outrageously. Rather than playing footsie under the table, as would fit the events going on above the table, she kept a constant hard pressure of her leg wrapped about his. He could tell

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