Page 20 of France Face-Off
Striker’s chest tightened at the thought of Alex losing both of her parents so tragically. “Were you there?” he asked.
“I escaped.” Her lips tightened. “They did not.”
“Was this in Russia?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I’m surprised whoever killed them let you live.”
“They didn’t know I was there. I got out before they found me.”
“I’m sorry, Alex. I know what it feels like to watch somebody you care about take their last breath. I can’t imagine that someone being one of my parents. I’m sorry.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “What do you have to be sorry about? You didn’t kill them.”
“No, but I feel your pain, and I’ve experienced it.”
“You say your parents are alive. Who have you lost?”
“My brother,” he said. It had been one of his Navy SEAL teammates. He’d held him in his arms as he’d taken his last breath after he’d sustained a gunshot wound to his chest. Though Striker had gotten him out of the firefight and into the helicopter, the medic hadn’t been able to keep him alive all the way back to the forward operating base. He’d died in transit, the wounds too grievous for the medic to stop the bleeding.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “You must have cared deeply for him.”
“I did.” His teammate had been his brother in the most important sense of the word. If Striker could have, he would’ve taken the bullet for him so that he might live. “What did you do after your parents’ death? Did you stay in Russia?”
“No,” she said, “I made my way back to the United States. It was a little over a year before I returned to Russia.”
“I’m surprised you came back to Europe at all,” he said. “Why did you return?”
“I was able to get work as a translator.”
“Couldn’t you have done that in Washington, D.C.?”
“Not as easily as I could in Moscow. And I guess I also needed to prove to myself that I could go back without fear.”
“You say you’re here as an interpreter for the German delegate?” Striker asked.
“Yes. Hans Sutter.”
“But you weren’t with the German minister at the reception last night.”
She nodded. “My primary duties are during the summit. I’ll be there tomorrow throughout the day.”
“Sounds to me like a long, boring day of blah-blah-blah.”
She laughed. “There will be a lot of that. Men in power tend to posture a lot, but hopefully, they’ll get down to the business of determining the fate of the pipeline. It’s why most of the people are here. Either they are all for the additional pipeline or completely against it. There doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of middle ground right now. Hopefully, they can come to an equitable solution by the end of the day tomorrow. If not, it will bleed into the next day. I know the Germans, and many other nations within the EU, are anxious to contract for additional natural gas in anticipation of heating Europe through the winter. The increase in population is in part due to the growing communities of migrants and refugees who’ve been coming from war-torn nations in the Ukraine, the Middle East and Africa.”
“I understand from my reading,” Striker said, “that the current flow of natural gas won’t be sufficient to get Germany, or any other country within the EU, through the winter.”
“That’s right,” Alex said. “In other words, it’s very important for the Russians and the EU, in particular Germany, to come to some agreement before the end of this summit.”
“Which means the Russians and the Germans need to live long enough to make that agreement,” Striker said.
“True.”
Silence stretched between them, and for a little while, Striker thought that Alex had fallen asleep.
Then her voice came through the darkness. “You don’t strike me as someone who would appreciate being a male escort for long.”
