ODESSA, UKRAINE
The ninth floor hallway of the Maranovka Hotel was in near darkness, and Jake crept along one wall, sliding his left hand along a wooden border, while his right hand gripped his 9mm Glock tightly.
He didn’t like being followed by the Israeli. How had he found him at the train station? Now he even wondered if Helena was safe.
The Israeli had made him think long and hard about the entire case. He wasn’t sure if Tully O’Neill and Quinn Armstrong had told him everything about Tvchenko and Petra. The strange appearance of the Israeli businessman, if that’s what he was, ripped his mind back to Chavva. She was a link to that man, and perhaps even knew more than him.
Which is why he was sneaking along the hotel hallway in the early morning with his gun drawn.
Jake reached room 902 and grasped the door handle. It was locked, of course. Should he knock? No. The hotel was old and the locks just as decrepit. Besides, he wanted her on his terms. He holstered his gun and slid out two small tools. Within a minute, he was inside the room with the door closed behind him, and he was standing against the wall waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darker room.
He had been in the hotel before, having stayed on the seventh floor while still with the Air Force inspection team. So he knew the layout of the rooms.
In a moment he could see everything in the room. There was a large bed in the center, a bureau on the far wall, and a small table with two chairs against a mirror on the wall he leaned against. The bathroom was in the far corner, where a dim light escaped from a half-cracked door.
There was a figure on the bed and it had just moved and settled again.
Jake moved closer. Was this the right way to approach her? What if she had nothing to do with the case? She could have him arrested, for one thing. But he couldn’t let that stop him. After all, people had already kidnapped him and broken his ribs, tried to blow him up and shoot him, and the Israeli had followed him and warned him. No. This was the only way.
He stepped forward and the floor creaked.
He froze.
His heart raced and he waited a moment for it to settle down.
Moving forward again, he selected each foot placement as if he were climbing a rock cliff without a rope.
Now he was right over the bed and could just make out Chavva’s beautifully sculpted face, with the lone sheet snuggled tightly to her neck.
He didn’t want to do this, but he had to.
With one fluid motion, he jumped into the air and landed across her body, his hand over her mouth.
Her eyes opened in horror.
“It’s Jake,” he started.
But with one quick flip of her lower body and twist of her upper torso, she slipped to one side of the bed. Then her knee came up catching Jake in his leg next to his crotch. It was enough to throw him off balance and enough to free one of her hands.
She slapped him across his left ear, knocking him to the floor.
Then she was on top of him punching toward his face, which he had covered with his arms.
He bucked her to the carpet and they wrestled. Then Jake realized she was entirely naked. He had grabbed her butt to twist her over and found a handful of flesh. Then he had her from behind, one hand across her breasts and the other over her mouth, which was trying to bite his fingers.
“It’s Jake Adams,” he finally forced out. “It’s Jake.”
She seemed to settle down slightly, but her muscles were still tense, her chest heaving with each quick breath.
He couldn’t see her face to read what she might be thinking. But he wasn’t about to let go until he had a chance to explain himself.
“I’m sorry to come to you like this,” he started. “But I was just warned by a friend of yours to stay out of the Tvchenko affair. I want to know why.”
She didn’t move beneath him.
“I’m assuming he’s your boss. If so, nod your head.”
She still didn’t move.
“If I let you go, will you scream?”
She shook her head no.
He released his hand from her mouth.
“You fucking bastard,” she yelled. “You scared me to death. The first time we meet you end up dragging a young girl from a party, and now this. Do you like scaring the shit out of women?”
He almost laughed at the way she said “shit,” but he held back. “I’m sorry, Chavva. It’s early. I couldn’t wait until morning. I was nearly killed last night. And I’m getting pretty sick of being used for target practice or as a punching bag. My employers have been killed...” He trailed off into silence, and she twisted her head toward his.
He released her and she rolled to face him, not even attempting to cover her nakedness.
“Someone tried to kill you?” she asked softly.
“Afraid so.”
“How?”
He thought for a moment. He didn’t want to mention Petra, and especially Helena. “I was at an apartment with friends when two men burst in and sprayed the joint with automatic weapons. I...” He was going to say shot one of them, but didn’t know how she would react to that.
“Why would someone do that?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe they think I know more about Tvchenko than I do.”
He could see her eyes, large and bright. Tears had formed at the sides of both and she wiped them away.
“What’s the matter?” Jake asked.
She nuzzled her head down to his chest. “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
That was interesting, Jake thought. They didn’t really know each other that well, yet he held her close to his body, his hand across the smooth thinness of her lower back.
“I don’t understand,” Jake said. “Why should you care what happens to me?”
She gazed up at him. “I don’t know. There’s something special about you. I knew it from the first time we met.”
“In Istanbul?”
She hesitated. “Yes. There.” She slipped up even with him and slowly pressed her lips to his. They were thick and moist and warm. She pulled back from him and lay on the floor, exposing her naked body to him. “Make love to me, Jake.”
Her breasts were round and firm and rose from her perfect form, the nipples tight and hard. She reached over, took his hand in hers, and placed it onto her breast. And she moaned.
She slid her hand to his pants and unbuttoned his jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. Then she had a handful of his hardness.
They kissed as he quickly lowered his pants.
He entered her slowly and they meshed as one.
●
After a while, they lay on the bed, her face snuggled tightly into his chest. The sun was starting to rise over the Crimean Mountains, making it easier to see in the room.
Jake had not come to Chavva to make love, yet he was profoundly glad he had. What was her relationship with the Israeli businessman?
Stroking his hand through her hair, he watched her sleep. Her eyes were moving violently beneath the lids. She was shaking. Her lips tightened. Her breathing quickened. With one fast motion, her eyes sprang open and she screamed ‘No...’
Jake wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right, Chavva. It was a dream. Only a dream.”
She snuggled under his chin. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? We all have bad dreams.”
She smiled. “I guess you would know.”
He looked at her in wonder. She was a beauty. A complex beauty. He had to ask her. “What are you doing in Odessa?”
Turning away from him, she said, “What do you mean?”
“Your boss. Omar Sharif?”
“Omri Sherut,” she corrected.
“Whatever. He’s definitely Mossad. He reeks of it.”
She look puzzled. “What?”
“You know. In the encyclopedia you look up Mossad, and his picture is there.”
She giggled. It was the first time Jake had heard her laugh. She had always seemed serious before, but this was an endearing side of her that he had not seen. He liked it.
“You are funny as well as handsome, Mr. Jake Adams,” she said. “And, of course, you have other talents.” She slid her hand to a new hard on.
“Whoa... But what about Sherut. What do you really do for him?”
“Not this. If that’s what you mean.”
“No.” She was stroking him, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate on what he needed to ask her.
“Sometimes it’s better not to talk at moments like this,” she said. “Maybe later. But right now I think we better find a place to put this.”
He couldn’t argue with that logic.