“He is.” Ysabel looked up. “But we’re not…”
“I know,” Ryan said. “I’m just saying he’s a good dude, that’s all. And if you were… you know… that would be okay.”
“Listen,” Ysabel said. “Do you know the story of the Bibi Khanum Mosque in Samarkand?”
Ryan chuckled. “Can’t say that I do.”
“Well,” Ysabel said, “Tamerlane hired a Persian architect to design and build a mosque for his favorite wife, Bibi Khanum. It is said that this architect and Bibi Khanum fell so deeply in love that when the Persian kissed her, it burned her cheek, leaving the imprint of his lips.”
Ryan raised a brow. “Okay.”
“What I’m saying, Jack”—Ysabel waved a hand low in front of her lap—“is don’t look for someone who only sets you on fire here. Find someone who burns your cheek with a simple kiss.”
Dovzhenko walked up before Ryan could respond.
“Hope I am not interrupting,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “My case officer had to make a few calls.”
“Not at all,” Ryan said. “I was just on my way out. The fewer people that see me with you, the better.”
“Understood,” Dovzhenko said.
Ysabel leaned in, kissing Ryan on the cheek and then giving a little shrug. “See,” she said. “No burn there, my friend.”
Dovzhenko looked sideways at her. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“It was an honor,” Ryan said.
“The honor was mine,” Dovzhenko said. “Two weeks ago, we may have tried to kill each other, and now…”
“You’re sure about this?” Ryan asked. “SVR counterintelligence line is going to work overtime trying to trip you up the moment you get off the plane.”
Dovzhenko glanced quickly to the left and right, and then leaned in with a secret. “We should probably not mention this to your friend, but if there is one thing I learned from my mother, it is how to beat a polygraph.”
Dovzhenko smiled and shook Ryan’s hand, drawing him close and patting him on the back in a brotherhood hug. “I feel like our paths will cross again, my friend.”
“Seriously,” Ryan said. “Maybe you should let us check this out through our channels before you return to Moscow. It may not be safe.”
“Ah, Jack Ryan, Jr.,” Dovzhenko said with a wry smile. “You know better than I, happiness does not come from safety.”
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
A little more than thirty years ago, Tom Clancy was a Maryland insurance broker with a passion for naval history. Years before, he had been an English major at Baltimore's Loyola College and had always dreamed of writing a novel. His first effort, The Hunt for Red October, sold briskly as a result of rave reviews, then catapulted onto the New York Times bestseller list after President Reagan pronounced it "the perfect yarn." From that day forward, Clancy established himself as an undisputed master at blending exceptional realism and authenticity, intricate plotting, and razor-sharp suspense. He passed away in October 2013.
A native of Texas, Marc Cameron spent twenty-nine years in law enforcement. He served as a uniformed police officer, mounted (horse patrol) officer, SWAT officer, and a U.S. Marshal. Cameron is conversant in Japanese, and travels extensively researching his New York Times-bestselling Jericho Quinn novels. Cameron's books have been nominated for both the Barry Award and the Thriller Award.