I Minus 72 (19 page)

“I’m really sorry,” he repeated.

“No, just finish it,” she said, so quietly
it was almost a whisper. “I’m just being a baby.”

“No you’re not.” Grant put his hand on her
shoulder, looking into her eyes for a moment.

After the splinters were removed, Grant sat
across from Sam leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and
his hands together. In a serious tone he said, “Okay, Sam, you now
know how dangerous this is becoming. You just had an attempt on
your life. You’ve been identified and targeted and I’d really like
to send you home.” Grant looked down at his hands and shook his
head. “Unfortunately, I’m still not up to full capacity and I need
your help here,” he said, looking back up at her. “But we’ve gotta
keep you out of harm’s way, so here’s the drill. We have to stick
around here for a couple more days to see if any of the contacts
show up. Out of the hotel room I want you to be in busy places. No
quiet streets, no parks, no sitting by the window in restaurants.
When you’re not in the room, stay around crowds. I don’t think
he’ll try anything where lots of people can see.” His penetrating
blue eyes searched hers.

“Look, Grant,” she sighed, regaining her
control. “I’ve done a combat tour in Iraq. I’ve faced danger and
gunfire before and have come out okay. This guy, well now he’s just
pissed me off. I want him.”

“I want him too,” he said urgently. “But he
knows us and we don’t know him. He could walk right up to either of
us and we wouldn’t know it was him. And, don’t forget he’s killed
over two dozen people. That makes him really dangerous . . . he’s
got nothing to lose by killing us,” Grant continued in a softer,
gentler voice, “And I have an added responsibility; I’m supposed to
be protecting you.”

Sam scoffed. “No, you’re not supposed to be
protecting me. I’m supposed to be assisting you,” she responded a
little more hotly than she intended.

Grant paused a moment, sighed and looked
into Sam’s eyes. “Okay, you’ve got a point. Sorry.” He stood
up.

“Apology noted,” Sam responded sternly. Then
she continued in a quieter voice, “and accepted.” She stood and
walked over to Grant, intending to give him a quick hug to show she
was no longer offended. But what started out as a quick hug turned
into a longer embrace with Sam resting her head on Grant’s
shoulder. It felt good to both of them and neither was anxious to
move apart.

Finally moving away, Grant said gently,
“We’d better put something on those cuts.”

That broke the moment, but they both knew
something had just happened between them that could change their
relationship. Though neither of them would have felt comfortable
saying it out loud, both Sam and Grant had a warm feeling about
that.

I minus 35

Grant placed another ad in the personals
early the next day, hoping to reach anyone who might be looking. At
this point he wasn’t sure who was left alive in Warsaw. Obviously,
the shooter was here, but who else? Best he could figure, the
person he was trying to meet yesterday when the shooting happened
was the only one that might be left. Oh, yeah, there was one more:
the mystery person known only as Vladimir. However, since this guy
never responded to any of the ads Granowli placed, there was no
reliable way to contact him. Grant decided to place the ad anyway.
Maybe this Vladimir would see the ad in the personals and respond
with his own. He decided to start reading the ads today. If he
could get in touch with this guy, he may have some helpful
information. He phoned the paper and asked to speak to someone who
knew English. It only took a few minutes to dictate the ad.

The next morning Grant confirmed his ad was
in the morning paper and told Sam he was going out to meet the
contact. He suggested Sam stay put in the hotel room.

“Make sure you take the gun,” Sam responded.
“I’m a little nervous about you going out there alone.”

“Can’t be helped,” he responded. Then he put
both hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes.
“Remember the rules. I’d rather you stay in, but if you do go out,
stay in crowds and on the main street.” Sam nodded, saying
nothing.

During the time Grant was gone, Sam spent
most of the time reading. She had tried TV, but couldn’t understand
anything that was said. She was running out of English reading
material, though. Maybe she’d see if she could find a bookstore
that sold books in English. The hotel was located in a busy
commercial area and there had to be a bookstore around here
somewhere. She’d ask the desk clerk later.

Meantime, Garcia, still dressed like a local
laborer, but with different clothes and a large, fur, Russian-style
hat, watched as Grant came out of the hotel’s revolving doors and
got into a taxi. Garcia grabbed the next taxi in line and told the
driver to follow Grant’s cab. The driver looked back over his
shoulder and asked in heavily accented English, “Is this a
joke?”

Garcia responded by handing the driver a US
twenty dollar bill and saying, “Does this look like a joke? Just
follow that cab.” The driver took the money and accelerated
quickly, throwing Garcia into the back of his seat. Off they went
down the street with a cloud of blue exhaust smoke trailing after
them.

Garcia noticed that they were heading the
same direction they did yesterday, but this time he’d be ready. No
sitting at a bus stop. Keeping a close eye on the traffic around
him, he was sure he wasn’t being followed. A block from the café,
he had his cab go around the block to the far side of the park
before letting him out. Then he wandered slowly through the park
keeping Grant in sight. Garcia, unaware that Sam had also been shot
at yesterday assumed she’d be covering Grant so he kept a sharp eye
out for her. He doubted she’d be at the same bench two days in a
row, but foot traffic was light and the park was the only vantage
point where one could blend in and still keep the café in sight. As
he walked through the park, he watched Grant drinking coffee and
eating a pastry at the café. Garcia was chilled and the hot coffee
looked good. There was no sign of either Sam or the guy who shot at
him yesterday. After nearly an hour, Garcia watched as Grant stood
up, left some currency on the table and hailed down a passing taxi.
Obviously, the contact was a no show.

I minus 33

Two days had passed since Grant posted the
ad and, still, no one showed up at the meeting place. While at the
embassy getting his ad translated, Grant made arrangements for a
translator to read the personals each day, looking for the right
response. The third morning Grant got a call from the translator,
who simply said an ad in this morning’s paper contained the
message, ‘The same place, midnight tomorrow.’ Just what Grant was
looking for.

In his excitement, he almost shouted to Sam.
“Vladimir just made contact. I’m really glad now that Granowli gave
me the contact info even though it was only a one-way
communication.”

Sam came into the room from the bathroom.
She was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a soft gold sweater that
complimented her dark hair. Stretching, she said casually, “Great.
Where and when’s the meet?”

“The usual place was an alleyway off
Poznanska,” Grant replied trying to keep focused. He hadn’t seen
her in attractive clothes like this before. “Guess I’ll follow the
routine Granowli used.” Opening up his Warsaw map, he continued.
“If it’s not too far from our hotel, I think I’ll walk. I’ll have a
better chance of seeing if I’m being tailed. Here it is,” he said,
trying not to be distracted by Sam, who was standing close. He
noticed she was wearing a subtle, but really nice perfume. “He said
the meeting place was twenty meters north from the corner of
Poznanska and Nowogradzka where an alley came out onto Poznanska.
There should be a trash can right on the corner of the alley. Sure
hope it’s still there. Even if it isn’t, I should be able to find
it okay.” Man, she sure looked good this morning. He remembered the
hug.

Assuming she would cover him, Sam asked, “Do
you want me to get there before you or to follow you?”

He shook his head. “Not this time, kiddo.
This is a solo mission.”

“Grant, it’s not safe,” she argued with her
hands on her hips. “You know this guy’s out to get you and you have
no idea who it is or what he looks like. For all you know, this
could be a setup.”

“I know,” he said, making a frustrated
gesture with both hands out in front of him. “But, if we’re both
walking, we’re both targets. If this is a setup, it’ll be easier
for me if I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Oh, you think I can’t take care of myself?”
Sam asked.

He looked at her to see if she was kidding.
She wasn’t. Grant sighed, dropping his hands. “Look, Sam, that’s
not it at all. If I’m attacked I just don’t want to have to be
concerned about anything other than defending myself.” He took a
deep breath. “Like it or not, I care for you and, well, if you were
out there and shots started flying, thinking about you would be a
distraction. That’s what wouldn’t be safe. For either of us.”

Sam just looked at him with a small smile.
Then tilting her head to the side, she said, “A distraction, huh?
Ok, but, it’s going to be hard for me to wait until you get back.
Any idea of how long you’ll be gone?”

Grant resisted the urge to smile back.
“Well, if all goes according to plan and he shows at midnight, I’ll
need up to an hour to talk to him. Given the lead time and the time
to walk back to the hotel . . . guess it’ll be two hours or
so.”

“That’ll be a long two very long hours for
me.” This time it was her turn to take a breath. “And, Grant, I
care for you, also, so please stay safe and return in one piece,
okay? Remember our cell phones do work here, so call me if you need
anything.”

“You can count on it,” Grant replied sitting
down.

They spent the rest of the morning in their
hotel room, Sam finishing her book, Grant poring over local maps
and thinking about all the times he’d been in dangerous situations.
Considering all that had happened, this meet tonight could be
extremely dangerous. He knew he’d have to be on high alert.

They ordered room service lunch and because
they were missing good old American food, they feasted on
cheeseburgers, French fries and Diet Cokes.

After they had called for room service to
pick up their trays, Sam turned to Grant and asked, “Grant, I
really need to talk with you about, uhhh, us. What did you mean
when you said earlier that you cared for me? You mean like a
friend?” She looked down at her hands.

Grant paused a long time before answering,
“Sam, even in the short time we’ve been together on this mission,
I’ve grown very fond of you.”

“C’mon Grant,” she said. “I have no idea
what ‘fond’ means to you. The way I use the word, it’s like ‘I’m
fond of red wine.’”

“No, it’s not like that,” Grant stammered,
then paused again for a long time. He took both her hands in his.
“Look, Sam, I’ve loved one woman in my life. At least I thought I
loved her at the time. That didn’t work out very well for me. I’ve
met a few women since and they seemed just out for a good time.” He
smiled slightly. “Okay, maybe it’s because I met them in bars. But,
you’re different. You’re not only beautiful and smart, you’re, I
don’t know, different.”

“Really,” Sam drawled, smiling.

“No, not like that. It’s not that you’re
weird or anything. You’re special. You’re sweet. I don’t know . . .
. You’re different.”

Sam just looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“You’re gonna make me say this, aren’t you?”
Grant took a breath and let it out slowly, looking deeply into
Sam’s eyes. “Okay. Sam. It seems I’m falling in love with you.”

Sam’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in
surprise. Pulling her hands away from his and bringing both of them
to her mouth, she said, “Oh, boy. Wow. Not exactly what I thought
you were going to say.”

“Oh, look Sam, I’m sorry.”
Now
he
was
uncomfortable. “I was talking out of line. Please, let’s just
forget I said that, okay? Can we just go on the way we were? Can we
just change the subject?” Grant said, looking around the room.
Anywhere but at Sam.

Sam paused this time, making sure her words
were just right. She took his hands again and looking back up into
his eyes quietly said, “Grant, I said it wasn’t what I thought you
would say, but, believe me, it was what I hoped you would say.”

“Oh jeez, you really had me scared. Thought
you were going to throw up or something,” Grant exclaimed, looking
more than a little relieved.

She laughed. “Oh Grant, I’m falling in love
with you too, you dumb ass.”

They both stood and embraced. This time,
there was no pretense of it being just a friendly hug. This was an
embrace. A full body hug.

After a moment that seemed to stretch
forever, Grant lifted Sam’s head from his chest and kissed her . .
. a long lingering kiss.

I minus 32

That night, as Grant leaned against the side
of the brick building just across from the trash can, he couldn’t
help feeling exposed. There was a streetlight above the trash can
and Christmas lights on the old-fashioned lamp posts, but the dim
light didn’t really penetrate into the alleyway very far. There was
no other lighting and no moon shone above. Looking into the alley,
he couldn’t see anything beyond fifteen feet or so. He knew he was
vulnerable, but what choice did he have? This meeting place was set
up for exchanging information, not for face-to-face meetings. His
choice would have been a far more public place in broad daylight or
at least a place where he would be less highlighted by the light.
But, Grant reasoned, the contact really didn’t have any choice.
There was no way he could put an ad in the paper that said, “Meet
me in the lobby of the Marriott at noon. We’ll do lunch.” He had to
use the standard code or no one would realize it was him. That
intellectual rationalization, however, didn’t help his nerves.