Hardy stood halfway between the couch and the fireplace, turning his head back and forth, eyeing each woman. He was at a loss for words. He had not inquired about Natasha’s team, assuming they would be men, and she did not offer information to the contrary. Inwardly, he chuckled. Never assume. When you assume, you make an—
Natasha saw the eyes of the woman next to her, and she turned her head toward Hardy. “Ladies,” she said, standing and facing him, “I’d like you to meet Aaron Hardy. He’s an agent of the United States Government and he will be working with us on this mission. Hardy, meet my team.” She pointed toward the woman on the couch. “This is Mika Konstantinov.” Natasha tilted her head toward the woman behind her, who was sidestepping Natasha. “And, this is Romana Milosevic.”
Hardy shook Mika’s hand after she had stood. She had a firm handshake. He spun to his right and greeted Romana.
Romana took a step backwards and surveyed him from head to toe. “You’re not as tall as I pictured,” she held out her arms as if she was holding a large barrel, her fists clenched, “but, you’re much bigger and stronger.”
Romana was twenty-nine-years-old and stood five-feet, nine-inches tall. Even though her bulky red sweater and pants hid it, she had an athletic figure. Her arms, legs, and shoulders were strong and well defined. Her long and curly red hair—parted in the middle—spilled over her shoulders. She had thin eyebrows that hovered above a set of large, dark, narrowly spaced eyes. A wide set of lips with an extremely full lower lip sat between a petite, slightly turned-up nose and a small pointed chin.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you.” Hardy shot a sideways glance at Mika. Her eyes dissecting him, she had not stopped staring from the first moment she had seen him.
Mika was the same age as Natasha, twenty-seven, and less than an inch shorter. Mika’s hair was black and longer than either Natasha’s or Romana’s. At this point, however, no one could see its length, since she had formed it into a large bun at the back of her head. Outside of the stark contrast in hair color between Mika and Natasha, both of them had very similar features; smooth white skin, blue eyes, resting between well-trimmed eyebrows and a narrow nose, and perfectly aligned white teeth behind full, red lips. In the proper lighting, they could have passed for twin sisters.
Mika locked eyes with Hardy, while she sat and crossed her legs. She leaned back, put her right elbow on the back of the couch, and rested her head on her hand, never breaking her gaze. She placed her other hand on her thigh, below the hem of her black sweater dress. Below that, she wore black knee boots with three-inch stiletto heels. Slowly, she bounced her left leg, staring at Hardy, vetting him with her eyes.
Mika had an incredible ability to judge people and could unravel the lies and misdirection most people used to shield their true nature from others; however, she was having a difficult time applying her craft to him. His honest and straightforward persona was throwing off her senses. Nobody is this candid. He has to have some kind of an angle.
Hardy maintained eye contact with her and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” said Mika, barely nodding her head.
Natasha, having known her friend for all her life, could see what she was doing. “Relax, Mika. I can vouch for his character. He’s one of the good guys.”
Mika glanced at Natasha before shifting her eyes back to Hardy. “That remains to be proven.”
Standing on his right, Natasha put her left hand on his shoulder and clutched his bicep with the other hand—as much as she could, anyway. “The Summer Palace—the explosion,” she said before gesturing toward him and raising her eyebrows. She was referring to when Hardy had dragged her away from the fire and smoke from the explosion at the Summer Palace, saving her life.
Mika eyed Natasha. “You said that was Victor.”
“Victor was there, too.”
Mika recollected the events Natasha had shared with her, including a failed attempt by FSB agents to kidnap and kill Natasha. Hardy had intervened and killed the men. “What about the four FSB agents?”
Natasha nodded her head.
Mika jumped to her feet. “Well, why didn’t you start with that? That’s all I needed to know.” Approaching Hardy, she wrapped her arms around him. After a long hug, she let go and kissed him once on both cheeks. “Natasha is like a sister to me. I don’t know what I would have done if she had died that day.” She cupped his face. “Thank you.” She slid her hands over his shoulders, stopping at the upper arms. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Romana affirmed her friend’s sentiment. “Yes, thank you.”
Feeling uncomfortable and wanting to change the subject, Hardy thanked them before cranking his head around toward Natasha. He tapped the back of his left wrist with his forefinger. “What time’s the meeting?”