Chapter 2
“In the Soviet Union.”
Millie took a step back. “Whoa. You’re a Commie?”
Vincent held up a hand. “We work for an international charity organization, Millie. He’s a good guy.”
The “international charity organization” was the agency’s cover. T.H.R.U.S.T., the Tactical Homeland Response Unit and Security Taskforce, worked behind the scenes to promote world peace and cooperation. They were billed publicly as The Humanitarian Rehabilitation Urban Support Team, which supposedly sponsored programs such as helping the homeless and reclaiming neighborhoods. Vincent and Nikoloz were only two of many such agents assigned to protect the innocent citizens of the earth. Vincent had been Nikoloz’s partner for several years now, though at first the idea of the American paired with a Soviet ex-KGB agent had raised Nikoloz’s eyebrows. They had meshed into one of the most effective teams in the organization, however. Vincent’s exuberant personality and “Damn the torpedoes” attitude was matched by Nikoloz’s reticence and logical analysis of a situation.
Now, Nikoloz was having trouble analyzing their waitress. Millie gave him a skeptical look, but she took their orders. Nikoloz decided on a steak with what was described as a green salad. Vincent had a burger and fries, of course, Nikoloz didn’t understand how the man stayed healthy with as much junk food as he consumed.
Once Millie had returned to the kitchen, Nikoloz leaned toward his partner. “What, exactly, is the connection between Communism and being a ‘good guy’?”
“Again, you’re in the Deep South, Kolya. Communists are the bad guys, along with Republicans and hippies.”
Only Vika was a good enough friend to use the diminutive of his name. “So I should lie?”
“Just…withhold part of the truth, okay? You don’t have to go around telling everybody you’re a Russian.”
“I am Soviet, and I would think it obvious from my accent.”
“Trust me, partner. Most people down here won’t know where you’re from unless you tell them. And if you’re asked, just tell them you were born in Europe.”
Nikoloz opened his mouth to reply, but the door swung inward and a middle-aged man walked in. He glanced around, spotted Vincent and Nikoloz, and approached somewhat hesitantly.
“Cousin Vincent, is that you? I hardly recognized you without that mustache.”
As this was the code phrase they’d agreed upon, Nikoloz rose to extend his hand. “Dr. Yarborough, I am Nikoloz Donauri, at your service.”
The doctor joined them. Millie hurried over with a glass of tea. “The usual, doc?”
“Thank you, Millie.”
“Did I hear you say this is your cousin?”
“From San Francisco, yes,” Dr. Yarborough said with a smile.
Millie leaned over to whisper hoarsely in his ear. “The other fellow is a Rooskie. You’d better be careful.”
“I am Soviet,” Nikoloz said. “Also, I was born in Europe.”
Millie bustled away again. Dr. Yarborough fiddled with his napkin. He ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. He rearranged his silverware. He sipped his tea. “I suppose I should get to the point.”.
“We’re at your disposal,” Vincent said. “Take your time.”
“I’ve been contacted by what I think is your enemy organization. They’ve offered me a lot of money for my formula, even unfinished as it is.”
“Our organization will match whatever the opposition offers, of course. And you will have the satisfaction of knowing you’re helping the world instead of helping F.I.S.T. overthrow it.”
F.I.S.T., the acronym was purported to stand for Federation for the Instigation of Suspicion and Terrorism, opposed T.H.R.U.S.T. in all things, sometimes on general principle. Their agents caused and encouraged trouble, engaged in criminal activities of all sorts, and generally sowed chaos whenever and wherever they could.
“These fellows didn’t exactly tell me which organization they were from. I just didn’t like the way they looked.” Dr. Yarborough studied them frankly. “A Russian and an American? At least I know you really are from an international group.”
“F.I.S.T. is international as well,” Nikoloz told him. “Although they are broken into brigades that contain only locals from one area.”
“How did you two come to be working together, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I was sent by the KGB to participate in the organization.”
“You were sent to infiltrate us,” Vincent corrected. “The KGB can’t stand not having a finger in every pie.”
Nikoloz shrugged. “They have left me alone so far, so the point is moot. Vincent is from your Navy.”
“Really?” Dr. Yarborough leaned forward. “So T.H.R.U.S.T. hires from all walks of life. I can’t imagine that the other team can say as much.”
“No,” Vincent replied. “From what we can tell, they prefer to work with criminals and outcasts.”
“Which is why they have not been successful in their goal of world domination,” Nikoloz said. “It is hard to mold such people into an effective team.”
Dr. Yarborough laughed. “I’d imagine so.”
He waited until Millie had set their orders on the table. His “usual” turned out to be a club sandwich and fries. He took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down with tea. “As I said, I’ve been contacted by someone other than your organization. It made me nervous.”
“We are competent bodyguards,” Nikoloz told him. “We will be happy to—”
“It’s the kids.” Dr. Yarborough shoved his plate away and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I want my kids out of this.”
Dr. Yarborough was a widower with two children—one college age and the other a preteen. Vincent’s brow furrowed. “We were thinking more along the lines of watching all of you,” he said. “We can get another team down here within a few hours to watch the—”
“You can guard me if you wish, but my goal is to keep my children safe. I’ve already lost their mother. I’m not willing to risk either of them.”
“Understood.” Vincent polished off his burger. “The second team can—”
“No, I want them out of this. As in you take them somewhere safe.”
“We will need to consult with our superior,” Nikoloz said. “I see no reason why we would not be able to do this, however.”
“I have cousins in Savannah—”
“Nyet. If F.I.S.T. has located you, they can find your relatives as well. We will need to find a safe house in a neutral location.”
“The best thing,” Vincent said, “would be for all three of you to relocate. T.H.R.U.S.T. can set you up with a laboratory, provide anything you may need for your work.”
“If all of us disappear, they’re going to be suspicious.”
Nikoloz finished his meal and pulled out his communicator. “I will step outside and contact Headquarters. They can give you some options in this situation.”
Millie narrowed her eyes as he rose, and made no effort to pretend she hadn’t been watching him. He nodded to her and walked into the parking lot. The heat slammed into him like a fist and almost took his breath away. Punching the button to transmit, he contacted Headquarters and explained the situation.