The Amateur Spy by Dan Fesperman

Author:Dan Fesperman [Fesperman, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, General
ISBN: 9780307268594
Google: 93XD1Whksr8C
Amazon: B000WJSBZU
Barnesnoble: B000WJSBZU
Goodreads: 7872152
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2007-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

20

I decided to surprise her. No sense alerting our watchers with a phone call to a monitored line.

But as I knocked on the door after an all-day drive I wondered if it was such a good idea. I didn’t know, for instance, what Mila had told Aunt Aleksandra about our present circumstances. This could be awkward.

Mila’s cousin Marica opened the door and cried out in happy surprise. I saw her across the room on the couch, wineglass in hand, seated between two men I didn’t recognize. Aunt Aleksandra was nowhere to be seen. For all I knew this was the same foursome I’d watched leaving the building for a night on the town.

It seemed to take her a second to register that it was actually me. Her mouth dropped open, then she gave a stifled yelp and broke into a huge grin.

“Freeman!”

She nearly spilled her wine bolting to her feet, and in a moment of endearing comedy she turned to and fro, looking for somewhere to put her glass. It was finally taken off her hands by one of the mystery males, who I must say looked less than thrilled to oblige. I stepped across the room and she rushed into my arms.

“My God, I can’t believe it!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. Glad to see it worked.”

“Is it done, then? Are you finished?”

Her happiness had outrun the speed of my explanation, and it felt terrible to have to reel her back to reality.

“No. I can only stay for a while. I’m on my way to Karos to pick up some of my things.”

“Oh.”

Her embrace lost its urgency, and some of the light went out of her eyes.

“Well, come in, then. Someone get him a drink.”

For a moment she seemed a little flustered. Who knows what she’d told the rest of them about the reason for my absence. Maybe by showing up like this I had inadvertently made her look like a fool.

“Can you at least stay the night?”

“I wish. But no. I’m catching the last ferry. Have to make it back tomorrow morning for a noon flight.”

“Well, stay for a few drinks, then.”

“Here’s a glass,” Marica said. “We should toast you. Mila says you’re doing lots of difficult work. Something about a refugee charity?”

“Yes. Building a hospital.” I glanced at Mila, figuring she would signal if I was straying from her script.

“Best of luck, then. Here’s to Freeman.”

“Thank you.”

Mila then introduced me to the men on the couch, which gave me a chance for a closer look. One was Marica’s boyfriend, Luka. The other one was Petros, and he looked several years younger than Mila. He was trim and fairly handsome, with dark, curly hair and a thin gold chain around his neck. A prototypical Mediterranean man on the make, in other words. Judging from the amount of sun in his complexion, I guessed that he worked outdoors. Construction, maybe.

“They’ve all been keeping me entertained,” Mila said, gesturing at the others.

“Where’s your aunt Aleksandra?”

I immediately felt foolish for asking.

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