David turned the sound down a little. “I’m going to go out for a while, see if I can find Peterson. Will you stay in the hotel and wait for me? I think breakfast is served up on the eighth floor. But you should stay inside.”
“Sure, I can do that. Nothing like an excuse to lounge around, I guess.”
“Do you need anything?” he asked, as he went into the bathroom.
“Toothbrush and toothpaste. That’s all I need, I think. I have my phone, money, and passport in my purse. The only thing I left in my case was my fancy dress and shoes, toiletries and workout gear.” She shrugged. “Hopefully I’ll get them back at some stage?”
“I’m sure,” he lied as he bent to kiss the top of her head. “Take the battery out of your phone, so they can’t trace you. I’ll be back soon.”
CHAPTER TEN
Soon” didn’t come quickly. Molly had eaten breakfast, showered, changed into her sundress, washed and dried her panties, dried her hair, read the room’s magazines on the balcony, watched some Greek game shows that she made up dialogue for, and napped.
By three p.m., he still wasn’t back. She’d gone a little brown from sitting out on the balcony. She’d watched neighborhood people go about their everyday business, which sometimes included taking to the streets with a blanket filled with items they wanted to sell. The small road below her was filled with neighbors chatting and laying out their wares on the sidewalk.
She was starving. Breakfast had been yogurt and almonds with a few cute little pastries that she’d stuffed into a linen napkin and brought up to the room with her. She’d gone up to the restaurant as David had suggested, only to feel totally exposed. She had no idea who, if anyone, was looking for her, but she suddenly realized that she was scared every time someone looked at her face. Not a comfortable feeling. So she’d hauled her breakfast up to the room, locked the door, and put a chair under the handle. She had no idea if that ever worked, but they did it in the movies, so there was that.
She paced the room, wishing for David to come back. She felt safer with him. Even though she still wondered about him. He’d been perfect so far. He’d rescued her, loved her, and kept her safe. What else could a girl want? She felt everything with him. Maybe it was the situation, the fact that she had been thinking about him constantly for nearly a year, but she swore she was falling in love with him. She remembered what she’d said to her friend when she’d first seen David. “Can I keep him?” But it was clear that he still had a long way to go to feel like he could trust himself again. She wondered if it would be best to keep her distance until he could sort out the demons that seemed to haunt him.
She paced the small room, still wanting him to come back. Up and down in front of the bed. Her worst thought, one she’d been hiding in the back of her mind, was that this danger they were in, it was all her fault. She had dragged him into this, without a thought that he might lose his job, or just that she might fuck up his recovery. As this thought bubbled to the surface, she eyed the door, wondering if she should just leave and throw herself on the mercy of the US authorities. Leave David in peace. God knew he deserved it after all he’d been through in the war.
Up and down. Up and down.
David had been hanging out outside the US embassy in Athens. There was a lot of coming and going. He’d identified two other teams who were also staking it out. Russians, of course, and some other team. Probably the Greeks.
He’d done some shopping—a baseball cap for him, and a sunhat and a white lacy shawl for Molly, as well as the toothbrush and toothpaste she’d requested. Hats and jackets—or in this case a shawl—were the best things to be seen in if you thought there might be a chance of someone following you. Easy to whip off and discard, which meant harder to follow.
He was sipping a caffé freddo again and reading a guidebook. Except behind his sunglasses his eyes never left the staff entrance to the embassy. His fellow stake-out teams were watching the people using the public entrance. From his vantage point he could see both, but he guessed they had different priorities. No one who worked there would ever use the public entrance.
He took another sip and pretended to speak to someone on his switched-off phone. As he watched the two entrances, it occurred to him that the hotel room did not have any escape route except the stairs. What began as a slight concern started to worry at him. Maybe they needed an alternative plan. Maybe a bigger hotel in a more built-up area that would allow them to use the proximity of the roofs to make a getaway, like he and Mal had done.
He wondered what Molly was doing. God, just thinking about her made him hard. He visualized her on top of him, fucking him like she had this morning. His eyes closed for a second; he knew he shouldn’t think about sex right now but was completely unable to stop. He thought about the warmness that had filled him when she’d simply held his hand too. He was totally screwed. He knew that now. He just had to persuade her that he was worth taking a chance on.
Just when he’d come out the other end of his drinking and PTSD, she was fucking with his heart. Brain, he meant brain. Nah, he meant heart. And it was him doing the fucking. He sighed and checked his watch. It was late. He should call it a day and pick up food before heading back.
He finished his coffee and left some euros on the table, picked up his shopping and headed back to the hotel. About halfway there, he felt eyes on him. He stopped to look in a shop window and used the reflection to watch the people who passed him. He turned to go into the store, using it as camouflage while he checked out the street behind him. Nothing. He was becoming paranoid.
The feeling that someone was watching him was strong, but he’d already begun to doubt his instincts. He knew he wasn’t one hundred percent mentally cleared, and so did his boss, which is why he’d been on this easy protective detail to start with. He had to keep it together for Molly.
He was tempted to try to get out from the back of the store, but figured that might draw more attention than necessary, so he emerged and continued down the street.
The traffic was bumper to bumper, and within three minutes, he felt equal parts relief and adrenaline when he caught sight of his tail in the side mirrors of the stationary cars. He wasn’t losing his mind. Just because he was paranoid, didn’t mean they weren’t out to blow him up.
Jesus, it was a suit. No idea what nationality. Wait a minute. The mirrors gave him a slightly distorted view of the man, but with the brief glimpses he’d got, the guy could easily be Peterson.
He strode past the street that led to their hotel and continued toward the metro station they’d used the previous day. There was a bridge and a tunnel and a grassy park, all of which gave egress. He turned down an alley that led behind a Coffee Island shop and waited for his new friend to join him. He placed his bags carefully next to a Dumpster and stood with his back against the wall, right at the entrance to the passage. The suit walked a step or two across the mouth of the alley, but David gave him no time to react. He grabbed him by his lapels and head-butted him, then half dragged, half carried him into the shadows.
“Why are you following me?” he asked the man, as he struggled to get up. Under normal circumstances, he would have been sure not to allow him to get up, but he didn’t feel entirely on the up and up taking out someone without fully knowing who he was.
“Where is she?” the man said, holding his nose together with both hands.
“Why do you want to know?” So it was about Molly. “Are you Peterson? Are you the reason someone tried to blow us up?”
The man grunt-shouted and stamped his foot in pain. Guess he must have broken his nose. “Fuck,” he breathed, shaking his head.