While Natasha drove, Hardy checked his phone. He had received a text message from Special Agent Cruz—‘The Thanksgiving Day luncheon/dinner is about to start.’—Due to an eight-hour time difference, it was a little past noon, in Maine—‘Tom, Eva and Tyler are here. They haven’t left the Premier’s side. The President had more agents brought in, just to be safe. The President also has the Lions game playing on a television that he had wheeled into the dining room. You will never believe it. The Lions ran back the opening kickoff for a touchdown. They are up 7-0. I will be waiting for the Cowboys game, of course.’ —Hardy was a lifelong fan of the Detroit Lions and Cruz, having grown up in Dalhart, Texas, always rooted for the Dallas Cowboys— ‘I am sooo tired. I hope you were able to get some sleep on the plane. Be careful and see you soon. LU’ Ever since her birthday earlier in the month, she had been ending her text messages to him with the letters ‘LU,’ which stood for ‘Love You.’
Natasha saw Hardy tapping his phone. She assumed the text was going to Cruz. “How’s everything going?”
Hardy thumped the screen a few more times before hitting the ‘send’ button and setting the mobile into the center console. “The Premier is fine. My people are never far from him and his wife. The President brought in extra agents, too.” He stared out his window. “Everything’s going well back there. It’s up to us now to find General Popovich and bring him to justice.”
Natasha thought about her orders from the Premier. Activating the Nemesis Protocol, the Premier gave her complete control over how justice would be served. Looking at Hardy, she wondered if his administration of that justice would match her brand of dispensation, or would the two of them butt heads. He had been ready to kill the bomb maker, Anton Rudin, the last time he was here. Is he willing to do the same, this time?
...
The drive to the safe house took almost an hour. During that time, Hardy and Natasha spoke very little. Even though they had gotten some sleep on the plane, they were tired and welcomed the long drive. The silence gave them time to refocus their minds on the mission.
Natasha backed the SUV into a garage attached to a house near the southern part of Moscow’s Academic District, navigating past a UAZ Patriot parked in the driveway. The dark gray four-door, four-wheel drive, sport utility vehicle—belonging to Natasha—was also backed in. Surrounded by tall trees and nestled among buildings that were even taller, the house was virtually invisible to everyone, except those who knew of it. The garage was only big enough for one vehicle, but had ample room for people to exit a car and move around.
Hardy got out. Natasha passed in front of the SUV and continued toward the door that led to the house. She pushed a button to the left of the doorknob and the large overhead door descended. Hardy followed her into the living area.
They moved past a small mudroom and then a combined kitchen and dining area before entering the living room, a perfect square. At the far end of the room, a fireplace was centered on the wall. Flames from a fire swayed back and forth and provided the only light for two people—the rest of Natasha’s team. One person was sitting on a couch directly in front of the fireplace. The other was bent over near the fire, adding pieces of wood. The dark figure rearranged the burning wood with a poker. Hardy glanced around. To his left was a set of chairs around a table. A wooden rocking chair rested to the left of the fireplace. Two end tables with lamps were on either end of the couch.
As the flames grew higher, Natasha removed her blazer and threw it over the nearest chair before winding her way around the left side of the couch and drawing close to the fire. Stooping, she held her hands out in front of her, rubbing them together, periodically.
Hardy kept his jacket on, wanting to keep his body heat for as long as possible. The fire looked inviting, so he took the opposite path around the couch. Rounding the corner, he stopped. The growing flames gave off enough light that he could make out the faces—and gender—of the two unknown people.