Page 19

PORTLAND MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

The next day, Kay peeked into the room then pulled her head back. “He’s awake!” she said excitedly to Felicity.

Metal had his arm around Felicity’s shoulder and they both shuffled forward. They’d spent the night in the hospital and had been released an hour ago. They hadn’t left the hospital yet, just travelled up two floors.

The police had sequestered the LRAD, the Long Range Acoustic Device mounted to the roof of the van. It had beamed over 160 dB at them, well over the threshold of pain. Felicity and Metal would suffer slight but permanent hearing loss. Jacko, John and Douglas had been far enough away to feel the pain but would have no long-lasting effects.

They were all a little dinged but Felicity knew they were fortunate to be alive.

Borodin and his driver were dead and the FBI had found Al in a private jet, duct taped to a chair, watched over by three guards who were never going to see the light of day, ever again.

One of them was the man who had attacked her at the airport and it pleased her no end to know that he would be jailed for the rest of his natural life.

What the CEO of Intergaz wanted with her was still a mystery.

However, they were all alive. Big big plus.

Al was sitting up in bed, a huge lopsided grin on his face. One side of his face was relatively normal, the other side swollen and discolored. The bruises on his face were turning yellow and green and he looked awful, but he was smiling at them. He hugged Kay, kissed the side of her face, then held his hand out to Felicity.

She rushed to hug him. “Oh, Al! I’m so glad you’re alive!” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so very sorry. This is all because of me. I have no idea what that man wanted but I am so sorry you were caught in the middle.”

He hugged her back. He smelled of disinfectant and soap and old man and he felt absolutely wonderful.

Al glanced at the other man in the room, standing discreetly in a corner, hands folded over his crotch. He wore an ill-fitting black suit, white shirt, black tie and a curly wire running from his ear down into his collar. He had FBI practically tattooed on his forehead and he was there to protect Al and Felicity would have kissed him, except his head would probably explode.

“Any news?” he asked the man.

“No, sir.” The man shook his head. “But there is a lot of diplomatic maneuvering because Russia cannot explain how it is that one of their leading businessmen found himself in Portland with a team of former Spetsnaz soldiers trying to kidnap an American woman and a federal agent. Lot of fallout, none of it good for them.”

Al nodded sharply, then winced.

Metal grabbed a chair placed it close to Al’s bedside and practically carried Felicity to it. “Sit,” he said. She took off her backpack, set it on the floor and plopped down in the chair. She would have bristled at his commanding tone, but it felt really good to sit down. The doctors said it was going to take some time for her to completely recover. For both of them to. Maddeningly, though, Metal showed very few signs of strain. She, on the other hand, looked like she’d just come back from a particularly long and vexing war.

She’d have time to recover, all the time she wanted. And as of today, she was on ASI’s payroll with a fabulous salary and benefits and strict instructions not to put her nose in the office for another month.

Al held her hand and looked at them. At her, Kay, Metal and FBI guy in the corner.

“I have an idea what they were looking for,” he said softly.

Electricity crackled in the air.

“What?” Metal asked.

Felicity opened her mouth and closed it. Looked at Al’s kindly, lived in face. A face that had known sorrow and that knew how to keep secrets. She looked deeply into his sad brown eyes and knew.

There were secrets there. Her life was one long secret. She’d grown up in the shadows of so much kept hidden, so much unspoken. Hidden things poisoning her family, casting long shadows.

“Al?” she whispered.

Understanding that something was happening, Metal placed himself right behind her chair and put a hand on her shoulder. She reached up to touch his hand. Knowing in a deep part of her that she would always have that hand on her shoulder from now on.

Al fidgeted, trying to change the position of his pillows. Metal left her side, arranged the pillows and lifted Al bodily so he could sit comfortably. Then Metal came back to her, standing behind her, strong and solid.

“Thanks,” Al said wryly. “Time was when I could do that for myself.”

“Al.” Felicity’s throat was suddenly tight. “Is there something I should know?”

He sighed. “I don’t quite know. Your father was a brilliant man, Felicity. But complicated.”

She nodded.

“When he defected, there were rumors he was working on something brand new. Something revolutionary for the time.”

“In terms of nuclear weapons?” Felicity’s heart was pounding. Metal’s fingers tightened on her shoulder.

“Yes. There were a lot of rumors in the community of physicists that your father had made a breakthrough. But that he was conflicted about it.”

“Breakthrough?”

Al nodded. “That he had managed to miniaturize many of the components of a nuclear bomb while using very lightweight materials. That—well that he had developed or was in the process of developing man-portable nuclear bombs.”

“Jesus,” Metal muttered.

Al met Metal’s eyes over her head. “Yeah.”

“Scary shit.”

“Very scary,” Al said.

“I don’t understand.” Felicity looked back over her shoulder at Metal, then at Al. “Man portable bombs?”

“I thought that was just an urban legend,” Metal said.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Al drew in a deep breath then winced and held his side. “Sorry. Nobody really knows if it is an urban legend or not. Or rather Nikolai Darin would know, except he’s dead. At the time he defected, the Soviet Union was losing the Cold War. For those with eyes to see, the end was near and a lot of people in the security apparatus were very anxious. They weren’t going to go down with the ship. A lot of wild-eyed ideas were greenlighted. Weaponized smallpox. Poisoning the major waterways. And very small nuclear weapons that didn’t require missiles. They had a name for them, too. Deti.”

“The little ones,” Felicity whispered.

Al nodded. “Yeah. The little ones. The rumor was they could be carried on a backpack.” He looked at Metal. “Smaller and lighter than the kind SEALs carry into battle. Place one in every major city, blow them up, and you’ve won the Cold War. Because who would know who set them off? Moscow would deny it vehemently while mopping up the rest of the world. It was supposed to be a last ditch effort if Moscow ever fell, as it did in 1991. By then if the Deti ever existed, no one could find them.”

“They lost nuclear weapons?” Felicity asked, appalled. “How can you do that? As if misplacing a pen? That’s insane.”

Metal gave a harsh laugh. “Entire arsenals were lost when the Soviet Union fell. For a few years it was absolute chaos. We had to send over inspectors at our expense to start to do an inventory. The office that kept track of their nuclear arsenal was disbanded and the files lost. We were looking at an entire arsenal that the Russians—most of them ex KGB—were trying to sell to the mob and to terrorists. It was wild. They ransacked a whole country.”

“Was that what Borodin wanted from me? The location of the Deti? That’s—that’s crazy. I’d never even heard of this until now. My father never said anything to me. Nothing at all. Why would Borodin think I knew anything?”

Silence.

“Al?” Her voice rose because Al winced again, but it wasn’t because of a cracked rib. “Al? What do you know?”

“Nothing, honey.” He shook his head. “I don’t know anything. But you—you might?”

“No.” Felicity shook her head decisively. “I don’t know anything about this. Nothing at all.”

“Your father and I got drunk together once,” Al mused.

Felicity’s mouth fell open. “ Drunk? My father?” Her sober, serious, unsmiling father? The only Russian in the history of the country to have never developed a taste for vodka? “Never.”

Al smiled faintly. “Oh yes. Just the once. You must have been, oh, eleven? Twelve? Back in Russia the Mafiya had taken over. The whole country was like a huge criminal enterprise. Your father was in Washington for some reason and he called and came over with two bottles of the best vodka I have ever had, bar none.”

“You guys drank two bottles of vodka?”

Al shook his head. “Not quite, but almost. I had an epic hangover the next day. The next three days, actually. Vomited my guts out. Anyway, deep in the night we started talking about regrets. He said there was something he deeply regretted doing. I looked at him and knew. And he knew I knew. I asked him where they were.”

“The Deti?”

Al nodded. “Yes, honey. The Deti. Bombs that could have changed the course of the world.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said you’d know where they were,” Al answered, dark eyes watching her so carefully. “He said he left everything with you.”

It was almost as bad as being hit by the sonic boom. Felicity felt nausea rise, her head pound. “But…that’s insane. I don’t know. How could I? This is the first I ever heard of even the existence of the Deti. How could my father have said that when he never told me anything? And how could he say I knew when I was just a little girl?”

“Your father’s English wasn’t perfect. He chose his words carefully. He said you would know. As if he hadn’t told you yet, but would.”

Felicity sighed sadly. “He died without telling me. You must believe that.”

“Wait.” Metal turned to Al. “He said he left everything with Felicity?”

“She was called Kadi at the time, though in the family she was called Alina. But yes. He said that. ‘I left everything with Alina.”

“He didn’t leave anything with me! Not that I know of. When they died so suddenly, I sold the house and all its contents. If he left information on the bombs in…I don’t know. A book, in a piece of furniture, behind a painting, it’s gone. But he wouldn’t do that, would he? Leave something of importance to me without telling me?”

“But he did,” Metal said softly. “He did leave something of importance to you and he told you to always keep it with you.” He bent and picked up her backpack. “And you always have it with you.”

Felicity gasped.

Metal zipped open the top of the backpack and pulled out the soft leather carrying case. “Your father’s Nobel Prize. Check it carefully, honey.” He opened the case and carefully handed the medallion to her.

Felicity took it with numb fingers. She held it in the palm of her left hand. She’d seen it a million times. She looked up at Metal then at Al. “It’s the genuine medallion. There aren’t any extra letters or numerals. There’s nothing here.” She turned it over and looked at it, seeing nothing she hadn’t seen a million times before.

“Let me see,” Metal said gently and she handed it over. He brought it close to his eyes and carefully studied it. Then he reached down and slid a knife from his boot. A knife she’d had no idea he was carrying. It was thin, razor sharp, pointed. Holding it by the black handle, Metal put the pointed end against the face of the medallion and worked the knife. Felicity watched uneasily. That medallion was very precious to her. She was about to say something about being careful when Metal gave a grunt of satisfaction and held his broad palm out.

Felicity and Al peered down at the tiny dot in the palm of his hand.

“A microdot,” Al murmured. “Fairly high tech for 1989. Now we’ll have to find a forensic IT specialist to find the equipment to read it.”

Felicity sat, stunned. “What do you think is on the microdot?”

“Coordinates,” Metal said. “Coordinates to hidden atom bombs.”

Portland, Oregon, Three weeks later

She came in laughing, waving goodbye to Lauren, who waited in the car until she was in the house before driving off.

“Hey,” Metal said.

“Hey.” She looked so incredibly beautiful, color high from the cold, eyes bright bright blue. Weighed down by about a ton of bags.

“I see you’ve been shopping,” he said mildly. Apparently she’d just discovered it as a recreational activity. She now made regular forays and came back with booty, filled with delight. She shopped with Lauren, she shopped with Suzanne and Allegra and had started an entire new chapter of shopping with Claire, Bud’s wife.

Metal didn’t care. She sometimes came home with amazing underwear in every color of the rainbow. Yeah.

“God, yes. Lauren and I discovered this amazing shoe shop, outlet really. Fifty percent off your fifth purchase. Incredible quality.”

“You happy with what you bought?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” She smiled a secret smile. “Particularly happy. I got you a present.”

“Yeah?” God, she was irresistible. And he never resisted her. Couldn’t.

She’d gone to work at ASI almost immediately, notwithstanding Midnight and Senior’s protests. In only a few weeks she had become indispensable to the company. Metal was under strict orders never to leave her.

God no. Why would he do that when she made him so happy? As a matter of fact…

But first some news. Metal had no idea how she was going to take it.

Felicity was unwinding his long ratty black scarf from around her neck when she froze. “What’s wrong?”

Damn. For a self professed nerd she was getting really good at reading people. Or at least reading him.

“Let’s sit down,” he said. When she sat, he took both her hands.

Her eyes searched his, back and forth, those incredibly perceptive bright blue eyes that saw through him. That saw him .

“They found them, didn’t they?” she whispered. “The Deti.”

Metal nodded. “Six of them. Exactly where the coordinates said they’d be.”

“I thought we were never supposed to know. That it was a state secret. At least that’s what Al said. That I’d never have closure.”

Well, it turned out Al loved her too much to leave her hanging.

“I found out through a roundabout way and we are to forget this forever. Do you understand me, Felicity? We must never talk about this.”

She nodded, face sober. “Never. I have Russian blood. We keep secrets for generations.”

“Okay. They went immediately to the site of the coordinates. The FBI and a NEST team. NEST is?—”

“Nuclear Emergency Support Team. Yes. Where did they find the Deti?”

“On an old farm, near Merritt, Minnesota. Just a few acres and an abandoned clapboard house. Merritt is?—”

“Merritt was our first home.” Her face was pale. “I barely remember it. We left when I was four. I never saw it again.”

“It was bought by a corporation whose owner we can’t track down. But the important thing is that the land belongs to no one person and your father made sure it would never belong to anyone. They found them exactly at the coordinates—buried six feet underground in a special casing.”

Al said he had no idea how Darin had managed to smuggle the Deti in, but they were small. An ordinary trunk would contain them.

“Why now? Why let us know now? I’ll bet they found them immediately.”

Yes, they had. Now, because Al had been debriefed for a full week and had waited another two weeks to casually call him. Risking big, too. It was a measure of Al’s love for Felicity, that he was willing to risk jail to get her closure.

“It was the first chance he got,” Metal said simply.

“So.” Felicity clung to his hands. “It’s over.”

“It’s over,” he agreed. “No old business. Not any more. Just new business. Just us, together. And our future.” And our family , he thought.

More than anything in the world he wanted a family with Felicity.

“Our future.” She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.”

The future. Felcity’s entire life had revolved around the past, around the choices made by her parents. Around her mother’s unhappiness and her father’s guilt. One evening after making love, she’d confessed to him that she felt light now, as if a terrible burden had been lifted.

Well, it had. No burdens now.

He had his own past to bury. He’d loved his family, fiercely. But they were gone now. Had been gone for a generation. He had never really laid his grief to rest. But in these weeks with Felicity, he’d spent hours, even days, without thinking of them. They had loved him. They wouldn’t have wanted him to feel such grief that he couldn’t get on with his life.

Both of them were free now.

“I want my present,” Metal announced. “Right now. And then I want to give you mine.”

Rising, she went to one of the bags and brought out a tartan-wrapped package. He recognized it as from a Scottish store in the center of town. She placed the package solemnly in his hands.

He tore the wrapping paper open and pulled out a long cashmere scarf. “This is beautiful but it is the Black Watch tartan,” he said. “Honey, I’m Irish, not Scottish.”

“Not today you’re not. Today you are a Scotsman.” She wrapped it around his neck and he fingered the material. It was incredibly soft. “I’m going to burn this old black one of yours I’ve been wearing. Now.” She sat back down, folding her hands in her lap. “My present. I want it.”

Metal’s palms suddenly started sweating. Oh God. He had an entire speech ready. Had been practicing it too. Now he couldn’t remember a word. The only thing in his head was a bright keening panic. What if it wasn’t the right time? What if she missed Vermont?

What if she said no?

He brought the small package out of his pocket. He didn’t have the nerve to say he’d bought it three weeks ago because she’d think he was insane. He was, but not about this. He was absolutely certain about this.

This was right, this was meant to be. He felt it in his bones.

His panic stopped, just like that.

He held the package out in the palm of his hand. Felicity picked it up with her delicate fingers, turned it over. He’d simply ripped the wrapping paper off the scarf but she picked hers apart carefully. Untying the bow of the ribbon. Gently opening the wrapping paper.

A small intake of breath.

She opened the jewelry box and stared.

Metal had gone straight to the Source for all things beautiful and elegant. Suzanne Huntington. She had approved and so Metal knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was a ring that would be pleasing to a woman.

The central stone was a sapphire, a little darker than her eyes. There was an intricate setting and Suzanne had told him the name of the setting and told him the cut of the sapphire but he couldn’t remember any of that now.

She held the ring in her hand, then put it on. A band Metal hadn’t noticed around his chest suddenly eased.

“I, um.” His mouth was suddenly dry. God, where was a beer when you needed one? “I thought that since you’ve had so many names, you wouldn’t mind one more change.”

“Yeah?” Her tone was dry but her eyes were wet.

“Felicity O’Brien. Sounds good. Don’t you think?” He’d tried for casual but his voice broke on the last word.

She was admiring the ring and was smiling when she lifted her head. “Felicity O’Brien,” she said softly. “Sounds great.”

THE END