'I'm sure it won't come to that," he said reassuringly. "We've got counter-terrorism officers all over this place and at the Novotel where Cornell's staying. I need you to lie low. Johnson doesn't have to know that we've got you under wraps. You just respond to him via email as per his instructions, and assure him that you're carrying them out to the letter. Meanwhile, you sit here, watching movies, working your way through the room service menu. Safe and sound. OK?"
"Will you come back to me after you've met with Dave?"
"I hope you're not planning to distract me from my duties. I'm supposed to be looking after you."
"Spoilsport," she said, jokingly. Then, more seriously, "Anyway, we have to get through this. \Xf hatever happens, happens. And when it's all over, we have a lot of talking to do. I've been so worried about you, Alex, after everything that happened in Africa, and then after we left each other in Spain. Your friend, Sutherland, hasn't let on much, and you sure didn't let on anything in your email either."
"Well, Dave's not exactly the world's most engaging conversationalist at the best of times. He usually only lightens up when he's about to bust someone in half."
"Funny, that's what he said about you." They laughed. "Have you two known each other very long?"
"In truth, only about a year. I was in the Paras, while Dave was in the US Navy SEALS. Somehow we both ended up in this outfit, but when you've served in similar units and environments, the links and commonalities are so strong that you might as well have known each other for 20 years."
"That's nice. Rare, I suppose."
"It's a brotherhood. You're either in it or you're not. There's an unspoken loyalty and understanding." Morgan was fascinated by her genuine interest. Her eyes had not left him once.
"Now tell me this, and I swear on the Official Secrets Act that I will never divulge a word to another living person," she flicked her right hand up, playfully taking a sacred oath. "But how is it that you guys, INTREPID I mean, are part of INTERPOL? I always thought INTERPOL was full of policemen, not soldiers."
"It is full of policemen. It's just that after 9/11 the UN Security Council decided that INTERPOL needed some gunslingers. So, that's us." Morgan wanted to avoid discussion of INTREPID, and the conversation was definitely heading that way. "This is really great music. Who is it?"
"Oh, she's one of my favourites - Madeleine Peyroux. This album's called 'Careless Love'. Beautiful, isn't she?"
"Yeah, definitely. Different to what you were listening to in Spain, though. Lily Allen, wasn't it?"
"Oh, yeah!" she laughed, acknowledging the obvious contrast. "I love her, too. But this is my quiet music. It soothes me."
"I can see why."
"Listen. " She reached for a remote, lifting the volume.
Ari luxuriated in the music. Her eyes closed and her breathing fell into a peaceful unison with the gentle murmur of the harmonies. Morgan sat watching her, enjoying the moment. He was almost unable to comprehend the connection that had grown between them in such a short space of time. It all felt so natural.
After a time, Arena slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze fixed straight on Morgan. Unhurriedly, she unfolded herself from the sofa and moved to the edge of the bed. She pushed aside some clothes and stretched out, lying on her side, knees bent, propping herself up on one elbow so she could see him. She raised her left arm and held her hand out open, beckoning Morgan to her. "Come and lie beside me," she breathed. "Just hold me for a while. Please."
Morgan stood, his eyes never leaving hers. He took off his jacket and, as discreetly as possible, removed his gun from the small of his back, dropped them onto the sofa and walked over to her. He rook her hand and she pulled him down. He lay back upon the pillows and Ari immediately nestled her head against his chest, left arm draped across his body. Morgan slipped his hand onto her shoulder and held her comfortably. He could feel her melt against him, drawing a leg across his and nuzzling naturally into his neck.
"Finally, you're here," she said.
They remained silent for a time and allowed themselves to be carried away by the serenity of the music. A thousand miles, it seemed, from the troubles they had followed from the other side of the world.
CHAPTER 54
Across Sydney, in an inner city street near Central Station, Jenny Sullivan tossed and turned.
Sweat flowed along every inch of her body, soaking into the sheets tangled around her long, brown legs. She rolled restlessly from one side of the bed to the next, trying to catch a puff of the breeze that seemed to be deliberately avoiding her open windows, cursing the antiquated air conditioner for choosing this summer of all summers to finally break down and die.