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weapons you mentioned a little while ago?”
    “I’m still working on that. But if it comes to fruition, I’ll want you to handle security for a meet in Novorossiysk. Three parties – me, some Africans, and your American colleagues.”
    Rudolf cocked an eyebrow. “An odd gathering.”
    “As you know, we live in odd times.”
    Leo explained the basics, and Rudolf nodded. “I see. You’ll probably want assistance with the customs people and with port security as well.”
    “Exactly.”
    “Just give me sufficient advance warning. I’ll put out feelers to see who needs to be bribed to look the other way.”
    “I would expect nothing less.”
    Their business concluded, Rudolf stood and offered Leo a small wave before heading through the boisterous crowd to the door. Leo tossed a few rubles onto the table and rose. His eyes caught the young woman’s for an instant that time seemed to freeze, and then he smiled apologetically. She pushed past a pair of men and walked toward him with the lithe gait of a jungle cat. He checked the time and signaled to the waiter at the bar, and sat back down as she took the seat Rudolf had occupied, her cobalt eyes glittering as she set her now empty martini glass on the table.
    “May I buy you a drink?” Leo asked in a playful tone.
    She appraised him, seeming to like what she saw, and crossed legs that stretched to her chin. “A wonderful idea.” She held out a manicured hand and he took it. “I’m Nadia.”
    Leo looked down at the smooth skin of her flawless arm and couldn’t suppress another smile.
    “Of course you are.”

Chapter 6
    Pristina, Kosovo
     
    “Hannah! Are you almost ready?” Jet’s voice echoed through the modest house as she called to her daughter from the kitchen. She finished preparing a sandwich and slid it into a plastic bag, and then added it with a packet of local crackers to a small nylon backpack.
    “Yeth, Mama!” Hannah’s voice answered from upstairs.
    Jet inspected the counter and wiped it down with a wet rag, surveying the surface with a critical eye. The perfectionism that had been drilled into her throughout her training and operational life manifested in many ways, most of them as irresistible as natural compulsions. They revealed themselves in the interior of the home, which was as neat and clean as the day it was built, every surface gleaming from her ministrations.
    She carried the backpack into the small dining room, set it on the hardwood table, and returned to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Hannah appeared moments later, her hair in disarray, with a small red hairclip hanging from a clump to one side of her forehead and a brush in one hand. Jet and her daughter faced each other. Hannah pointed to the clip.
    “It’s broke.”
    “I see that. Come here. Let’s see if I can fix it.”
    Jet took the brush and attended to Hannah’s mop, and then inserted the clip and snapped it shut. She stood back and inspected her, and after straightening her sweater, nodded approval. “There. All better. You look beautiful this morning.”
    “Radiant as a little angel,” Matt chimed from the doorway. Jet looked up and caught his smiling eyes. “And hungry, if I know our Hannah.”
    Hannah moved to the dining room table and Jet followed her out with a bowl of warm oatmeal – one of her favorite dishes, especially when mixed with brown sugar and cinnamon, as Jet well knew. Hannah made a show of stuffing her napkin in the front of her sweater collar, smoothed it out, and then clutched a spoon in her small fist like a treasured heirloom. Jet couldn’t help but beam at her.
    “Go ahead. Eat up. Your ride will be here in a few minutes.”
    Hannah dug in with relish as Matt slid behind Jet to the refrigerator and removed a bottle of orange juice. He’d taken to buying a roll and large cup of coffee at a café next door to the small shop he rented for his computer business, so he was low maintenance in the mornings, preferring to down