“That’s good to know.”
He glanced at her, unsure what she meant by that. From the tone of her voice, it almost sounded as if she was flirting was him. Which, considering the circumstances, would have been even more surprising than her remark about the horse. Not that Payne hadn’t noticed Allison’s beauty and intelligence. Those traits were obvious from the first time they’d met in the wee hours of the morning. But at the moment, he had more important things to worry about—like his best friend breaking into a dead man’s hotel room and their getting out of the country alive.
If not for those things, Payne would’ve been tempted to flirt back.
“Do you get to travel a lot?” she asked.
Payne was about to respond when his phone started to vibrate.
“Hold that thought,” he said to Allison as he answered his phone. “Hello.”
It was Jones. “I’m ready to leave her room. Can you put her on the line?”
“Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. Just put her on the line.”
Payne handed the phone to Allison. “D.J. has a question for you.”
“For me?” she said, intrigued. “Hello.”
“I forgot to ask you something before. Are any of your clothes personalized?”
“Personalized?”
“Initials on your jeans, tags on your shirt, names on your underwear. I don’t want to dig through your pantie drawer if I don’t have to.”
She blushed. “No, my panties are safe. But thanks for checking.”
Payne grimaced. He couldn’t imagine what Jones had asked that had produced such a response, but he’d definitely question him later.
She handed the phone back to Payne. “He wants to talk to you.”
“What is it?” Payne asked.
“I’m heading up to Byrd’s room. Am I clear to go?”
“As far as I can tell.” Payne turned and glanced in all directions. “Wait.”
“What?” Jones demanded.
“Jon,” Allison whispered. She noticed the problem, too.
Three Russian soldiers, dressed in full uniforms and carrying guns, were walking toward the monument of Nicholas I. Normally, that wouldn’t have concerned Payne, who was used to seeing soldiers and wasn’t the least bit intimidated by them. But as these soldiers approached, they weren’t focused on the statue. They were staring at Allison.
“Hang on,” Payne said to Jones. “I might’ve spoken too soon.”
“What is it?”
“Some soldiers are coming straight toward us.”
“You’ll be fine,” Jones assured him. “You’re white.”
Payne played it cool, casually glancing away. “I don’t know. They look determined.”
“Jon,” she said again. Her voice was filled with nervous energy.
Jones asked, “What should I do?”
“You know. I gotta go.”
“I know? What the hell does that m—”
Payne hung up on him and slipped the phone into his pocket. As the soldiers approached, he casually put his left arm around Allison’s shoulder. “Play along,” he whispered.
“I’ll try,” she whispered back.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” Extending his right arm upward, Payne pointed at the statue. Then in a much louder voice, he exclaimed, “I’m telling you, it’s made of brass!”
“Brass?” she said, quickly understanding his plan. “It’s made of bronze!”
The soldiers, all of them in their mid-twenties and looking rather serious, stood behind Payne and Allison, listening to their argument. The largest of the three, who was bigger than Payne and looked like a grizzly bear, tapped Payne on his shoulder, much harder than he needed to.
In a heavily accented voice, he said, “Papers.”
Payne lifted his arm off Allison and slowly turned around, completely under control. No sudden movements of any kind. Then, with a smile on his face, he said, “No problem.”
As he handed his papers to Grizzly, he prayed that Kaiser had hired the best damn counterfeiter in K-Town. Otherwise, things were going to get sticky in a hurry. Not only was Allison liable to turn the same shade of red as the patches on the Russian’s jacket if she was forced to lie, but Payne knew if he was frisked, they would find a loaded gun. Or two.
All things considered, the other St. Petersburg had been much more relaxing.
38
The library at Great Metéoron was rarely seen by anyone outside the monastic order. Its books and manuscripts, some of which were over a thousand years old, were far too valuable to be touched by the general public. In fact, many of the earliest volumes were so delicate they were accessible only to a chosen few.