Page 10 of Steinbeck
“But that’s a long way from you showing up in a dungeon in Portugal.”
“I called my cousin Colt.He works with the Caleb Group.”
“That’s convenient.”
“About as convenient as the fact that, apparently, your sneaky little group of Black Swans occasionally works with the Caleb Group.”
“Sometimes they just need a woman’s touch.”
“Please.You’re all highly trained thieves.”
“Covert specialists in retrieving hard-to-obtain items.”
He let out a grunt.“Yeah, well, Colt’s boss, Logan, hooked me up with intel and a guy on this side of the pond named Roy.Apparently, he knows the Petrov Bratva and especially their hideouts.Once we figured out where your ship was heading, Roy put a tail on Tomas, their leader.He owns an estate near here with an airstrip.Our best guess was that they were going to move you.”
“And what—the dungeon in Sintra is the international lounge?It needs a buffet, maybe drink service.”
They reached the door, and he glanced back at her, again casting the light upon her.“Roy and I put a tracker on the Petrov car, and his hacker, Coco, tapped into the camera on the wharf.They picked you up getting into Petrov’s car, and when you headed out of the city, Roy stayed on your tail while I took a shortcut to Sintra.I found the dungeon, tranqed the guard—left him in my car—and sneaked into the prison.”
“Lots of what-ifs there, Ethan Hunt.I could have ended up on a plane.”
Her words only tightened the coil in his gut.“I took a chance.”He kept out the part where he and Roy nearly had a throwdown in the hotel room where Roy told him the plan.
He’d wanted to storm the wharf, but with too many sailors on the Russian dole...“This plan had the best odds for survival.”
Then he opened the door.
The twilight streamed in, and his eyes blinked hard against it.He cupped a hand over his eyes and eased into the cobblestone alleyway.
Phoenix still gripped his belt.
He pulled out a handgun, secreted to him by Roy.Steinbeck had a whole list of questions for the spy, but he’d pocketed them in favor of a thanks and a what-I-don’t-know-can’t-hurt.
They came out of the alley to a set of stone stairs, and he pulled off his grimy wig.Then he grabbed her hand and a baseball cap that he shoved onto his head.
“What look are you going for, there, Tom Hanks?Because you look like you’ve been on a desert island for half a decade.Nice wig and beard.”
He glanced at her.“I think there are things crawling in it.But I’m not the only one who needs a shower.”
Her mouth opened.
He smiled and found his Panda at the bottom of the stairs, secluded in another tiny alleyway.
Opening the back door, he grabbed the Russian, still zonked—so hopefully still alive—and pulled him out, leaving him propped in a corner.
“How much sleepy juice did you give him?”Phoenix got into the front passenger side.
“The entire shot,” Stein said as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“He’s breathing, right?”
“Had a pulse, so yes.”The engine turned over.“You ready to get out of here?”
She looked at him, blinked hard, her mouth opening, andshoot,he flashed back to the words he’d spoken to her three years ago as they’d left their safe house in Krakow.
Right before his world had blown up.
And right before she’d betrayed him.
