“I’d say put it to good use,” he said. “But don’t take that the wrong way.”
“I won’t,” she said.
“Are you going to be okay getting out of Spain?” she asked, eying the security controls.
“Oh,” he laughed. “Sure. Your pal. McKinnon. Another little souvenir,” he said.
Peter pulled out a passport from his inside jacket pocket. American. He flipped it open and showed her. He was now William Kao, a native-born American who was an IT expert from New York.
She shook her head. “Do you ever lose sight of who you really are?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” he said. “Same as who I’d really like to be. Sometimes it’s confusing.”
She allowed that it was.
He continued. “Hey,” he said, “if you’re going to the safety deposit box, you might want to stash this for me also,” he said. “Never know when I might be back. If ever.”
“Probably sooner than you think,” she said, “but I wasn’t planning to go to the safety deposit box.”
“Maybe you could. For me. As a final favor.”
“All right,” she said.
“Oh, and listen,” he said. “There’s something I’d like you to have.”
He reached into his pocket. His strong hand came out with a small jeweler’s bag, a light blue one. She had seen it before, held it in her hand before.
“I don’t get it,” she said.
“Open it.”
She did. Into her hand fell the eighteen-karat etoile bangle that had been in the jeweler’s box in the safety deposit box.
“Put it on,” he said.
She did.
“There,” he said with an approving smile. “If that doesn’t make your Russian hood jealous next time he sees you, I don’t know what will.”
“Peter, it’s gorgeous,” she said, reaching to take it off, “but you bought it for someone else.”
His hand stopped hers. “No, I bought it for you,” he said, “the first day we met. Then I rewrapped it with paper from Switzerland. I figured ahead of time that I’d want to give you a souvenir of our ‘vacation’ in Spain. I do things impulsively and ahead of time, as you know.”
“But you said there was a woman in China.”
“From time to time, I lie-,” he said, “to protect everyone. And now I will be deeply insulted if you don’t keep it.”
“All right.” She relented and admired it on her wrist. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
“It’s exactly where it belongs.”
He laughed. Then he did something that shocked her.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and she allowed him.
He held her for several long seconds. Then she pulled back.
He took her into his arms again, holding her tightly. This time the embrace was longer and lingered. She stepped back and stepped away.
“Travel safe,” she said.
“You too.”
“I’m anxious to get home,” he said. “Ever been to China?”
“No.”
“You should come visit someday. There are ways to let me know if you visit. Channels.”
“I know.”
“I know you know.”
A moment, and “I’m very sorry,” he said.
“About what?”
“I’m very sorry that I’m obliged to live half a world away from you,” he said.
His words had the effect of knocking the legs out from under her.
She fumbled for the words of recovery but had none.
Peter was about to say something further, but then didn’t. It was almost as if for the first time, he was ill at ease with something-a feeling, a thought, an emotion, maybe. In any case, he gave it no voice. Instead, he turned and gave her a quick final hug. Then he turned away quickly and went to the first class check-in line for Iberia. His trip was to be a long one. Iberia to New York, then China Air to Hong Kong, and a connecting flight to Beijing. It would be twenty-seven hours before he set foot on his home soil. And who knew when or to what he would next be assigned?
She watched him all the way through the passport check, the ticketing, the checking of two sizeable bags. She had the wistful notion that someone she liked very much was stepping out of her life. She would miss him.
A quick reality check reminded her that he was a hired agent and assassin of a state that wasn’t always on the best terms with her own. And then a third instinct clicked in, that Peter Chang was a man who had done what he had to do, done it with honor, and done it in a way that she could respect.
In that way, he had been a soldier. A soldier and a very good one, one in which she had also fought with in the trenches. She respected soldiers.
As for his country, his employer, she didn’t care much for their system and their shortcomings, and vastly preferred her own. But his system worked for him, much the way hers worked for her. So who was she, she wondered, to pass judgment? At this stage of her life, he had been exactly what she had needed, in ways large and small.
She had more than the notion of liking him. She did like him, and it would take some time to adapt to the new reality of daily life without him.
She stood near the exit gate, not wanting to pull herself away. Her eyes were on him. There were police all over the place. She wondered,
Suddenly, he turned. He scanned the terminal and found her. He said something to the security people. They nodded. He turned and jogged briskly in her direction.
Now what? Passport trouble? Was he going to make a run for it? He came to her.
“Sorry, I meant to mention something,” he said. “I left the box for your bracelet at the bank. In the safety deposit box in the vault. I like to keep things tidy. Can you deal with that for me when you stash the pistol?”
“Of course.”
“You can dip into some of the money too, if you want. I did. No one will care. Expenses, you know. Don’t be greedy, but I know you won’t.”
He jogged back to the line, nodded with a smile to the security people and proceeded. Her eyes were still on him when he took his suitcases to be X-rayed, and put them through the giant scanners. The security people nodded and waved him along.
He turned toward the place where Alex stood from a distance of maybe a hundred feet. Somehow he knew she hadn’t left, and somehow his eyes found hers immediately, even across the crowded entrance lobby of the bustling airport. Across many travelers, a multitude of cultures, across more languages than anyone in the room could count. This was how they had met and how they would separate.
He gave her that big smile again, raised a hand and waved.
She raised hers in response but without much enthusiasm. Then he turned and was gone through the security gates where they examined his shoes, his belt, and made him stand for an electronic, and then a manual, frisk. An absurd and amusing notion struck her. If these security people only know who they were frisking, she thought to herself. Well, it happened all the time.
She caught one more glimpse of him. Then he was gone.
Completely.
She walked out of the gates to the departures lounge and onto the sidewalk, lost in many thoughts…
She went back to the car and sat for several minutes. The degree to which she was rattled surprised even her. Time spiraled a little. So much had happened in so short a time. It seemed as if it had been only a few seconds ago that she had been emerging from the warm surf in Barcelona and answering the phone. Then she had been in Madrid, then Switzerland being undressed and re-dressed by Federov, then Rome, then back to the
