One week later, 12:09 p.m. (local time); Moscow, Russia
“I must admit,” Natasha set her empty glass on the table, motioned for the server and turned her head to the left, “I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you so soon, Hardy.”
“Yeah,” Romana sat across from Natasha at the small café table, “did you miss us that much you had to fly back just to have lunch?” She was in a feisty mood and had been good-naturedly jabbing him ever since he entered the café. “Does your girlfriend know you’re dining with three attractive women?” She threw her hands into the air. “What am I saying? She’s probably the one who booked the flight.” Natasha and Mika laughed, while Hardy smiled and took a drink of his beer.
Natasha glanced around the restaurant. “And, don’t think the symbolism of your choice of venues has gone unnoticed.” She looked at her female friends and tilted her head toward Hardy. “This is where I first met him.”
The Apartment 44 was where Hardy and Natasha had met on Hardy’s first trip to Moscow. It was a small café. Several round-shaped, wooden tables sat in the center. The tables had matching wooden chairs with circular seats. A dark mahogany bar, with bottles of alcohol lined up on the shelf behind it, caught the attention of every patron who entered. A full-width mirror—behind the shelf—made it appear as if there were twice as many bottles. Hardy had not specifically chosen this table for purposes of nostalgia. He simply liked the table’s location in proximity to the fireplace, and it had a good view of the front door. He and Natasha were sitting on the booth side of the table, while Mika and Romana sat in chairs with their backs to the bar.
“Awww,” Romana cocked her head to the side, “I didn’t picture you as the romantic type.” She smiled, picked up her bottle of beer and pantomimed a kiss before taking a swig.
Hardy set his beer on the table and retrieved his phone to check the time. He placed the phone on the table. “Keep it up, Romana, and you might regret those words.” He eyed the front door.
“The way I see it,” she glanced at Natasha and Mika, “its three against one.”
“I’ll take those odds,” Hardy shot back with a grin.
Natasha raised her hands in front of her face. “Don’t involve me in this little love spat the two of you have going.”
Hardy glanced at his phone again before picking up a menu. “Let’s order.” He looked across the table at Mika. “All this…verbal abuse…has made me hungry.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Back it up, Mister. I’ve been very nice to you.” She motioned toward Romana. “She’s the one who’s painted a target on your back.” Mika leaned closer. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you did for me in Bryansk.” She flicked her eyes left, “Natasha,” and came back to Hardy, “told me everything.” She planted her palm on his hand. “Thank you.”
Hardy tried to come up with something humorous to say, deflecting from his actions, which had saved Mika from freezing to death. The doctors had said she was suffering from hypothermia and would not have survived for much longer in those conditions. Hardy’s quick thinking had begun the process of raising her body temperature, buying more time for medical personnel to treat her. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he simply nodded his head. “I only did what either Natasha or Romana would have done.”
“I think you’re being a little too modest.” She squeezed his hand before letting go and leaning backward. “You shielded me with your body and took a bullet for me.” She tilted her head toward her teammates. “I know they would have done the same for me, but we’re like family. You, on the other hand, hardly knew me and still risked your life to save me. If any of those bullets had landed above your vest, you would’ve been killed. As it was, you lost enough blood to bring you closer to my condition.” She paused. “By the way, how’s your shoulder doing? I expected to see your arm in a sling or something.”
Hardy shrugged and rotated his left shoulder a couple of times. “It’s getting better each day. And, it was in a sling for the first few days.” One of the bullets had gone wide of Hardy’s bulletproof vest, struck him in the left shoulder and gone straight through, missing his collarbone and Mika’s head by less than an inch.
“I can’t picture a big tough guy like you,” Romana grinned, “walking around with your arm in a sling.”
And, she’s back. Hardy shook his head, while reading the menu.
Mika looked up. “Have we heard anything on how the summit went?” She glanced at Natasha, who reached for her drink.
“Do you want to tell them,” Natasha took a sip, “or should I?”