A man spoke up, “I’m Général de division aérienne Pierre Vachon.”
“Seem to be a lot of you two-star types floating about.”
“Perhaps. However, I am with NATO and can guarantee you that Major General Kurbanov is not.”
Holly sighed. “So, no big surprise he tried to shoot us. Don’t worry, Miranda, he missed.”
“I had surmised that from your use of the word tried. I’m glad you aren’t dead.”
Max barked out a laugh but kept other thoughts to himself.
“Where are you now?” Général Vachon asked over the speakerphone.
“Not so sure about answering that. I’m not a big fan of major generals at the moment. The last one punched several holes in Miranda’s jet while trying to punch holes in us.” And she felt that her shoulders were still up around her ears with the tension of how close she’d come to losing Mike.
“My jet? He shot my jet?”
Elene furrowed her brow and whispered to Mike, “She’s more worried about someone shooting her jet than shooting you?”
Mike rested a calming hand on her shoulder and answered as softly, “Shooting at us would be very distinct to Miranda from actually shooting her plane. One is safely complete. The other has consequences.” Holly noted that he didn’t mention the dead GDF soldier.
Holly returned her attention to the phone side of the conversation. “We’ve called in a repair team. We’ll send the bill to Kurbanov as soon as we find him. First, Pierre buddy, can you prove who you are?”
Five seconds later her phone beeped with two images. One of a man bundled up in a trench coat outside a hotel at night. The other of an ID with a matching picture. She used the security app on her phone to process the bar code on the ID. His scan passed muster, saying he was both himself and a top-ranking NATO officer.
But what would have happened if she’d thought to scan Kurbanov’s ID?
Mike turned his own phone to face her. He’d done a search on Général Pierre Vachon on the NATO site—the photo matched. Then Mike flipped to another screen. No hits on a Sandor Kurbanov.
That’ll teach us, he mouthed. He’d been the one all worried about Tad Jobson being authentic on his arrival. It made her feel better, no, less worse that neither of them had checked Kurbanov’s identity.
She nodded. Neither of them had thought to question a two-star. Not a mistake either of them would make again.
“Okay,” Holly patted Mike’s sleeve in sympathy as he looked as gut-shot as she felt, “so, Pierre, we’re in Georgia.”
“The country? Why?”
By the time she and Mike had explained the thinking that had led them here, and Elene had been coaxed into speaking loudly enough to be heard, Général Vachon sounded ready to stroke out.
“…and we don’t know how high it goes. At least to the top of the Georgian Intelligence Service. Possibly to the president or prime minister, even the military. But we don’t know which if any yet.”
“Get out of there. You’re a civilian team and in way over your heads.”
Holly glanced around the bar. Everyone’s expression said he could go to hell, especially Elene’s. She appeared to have slipped over into some kind of protect-my-man mode that reminded Holly of Mike’s comment about Taz becoming more formidable as a mom than as an Air Force colonel.
Protect her man? Certainly a thought that Holly herself had never conjured up, not even about Mike. Except what had been her first priority after those two shots at the jet? Tucking him inside a Didgori while wearing a bulletproof vest.
“Over our heads,” she answered for them. “Guess we’d better swim harder. Unless you have an action team just hanging out ready to invade a non-NATO member country? If you do, that would be totally peachy with us.” Nobody’s expression except Tad’s agreed with that statement.
It earned her a thoughtful silence many heartbeats long.
“So what’s your plan?”
“Easy. Find Kurbanov. Beat the shit out of him for trying to shoot my boyfriend.”
That earned her a sharp look from Mike. Okay…maybe she shouldn’t have said boyfriend. That implied things she’d rather not think about.
“After that?” Holly plunged back into the topic at hand. “Try to extract from him how to stop a war. Then I know about this bar here in Tbilisi where I plan to get seriously drunk. Maybe do some dancing.”