To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series)

by Aubrey, Cecilia; Almeida, Chris

  “Bring it on. I’m starved, too.”

  *****

  The pub was crawling with patrons. Downtown workers, early night crawlers, and the usual tourist crowd made their way through the walls of the Brazen Head, the oldest pub in Dublin. Music played in the background and made the place feel even more magical than it was. Almost a thousand years of history covered the walls. Each picture or item on display took you back in time to when storytelling in pubs was the main form of socializing. Spontaneous bursts of energy resulting in song and dance were commonplace, and that night it wasn’t any different.

  Stephan absorbed the full impact of the place the minute he walked into the packed room. He loved the Brazen Head and was a frequent patron. Almost every night the pub had something fun going on. The fever pitch was contagious. He smiled widely at the lyrics of the song being performed live. Even the air felt charged with a current of energy.

  He followed the movement of the crowd to the back of the room. As he approached, he caught sight of Trevor sitting on the bench against the wall with an arm wrapped around Cassandra, a Guinness in his hand. He changed direction and made a beeline for them, the final stretch to their seating a slow process as he maneuvered through the crowd. He’d never seen the place teeming like that before. It must be spring in the air, he thought.

  “Trevor! Cassandra! Glad to see you two here! This place is crazy tonight.”

  Stephan grinned as Trevor disengaged himself from his wife and stood to shake his hand. “Stephan! Good to see you, mate.”

  Cassandra leaned her elbows on the table and smiled. “No kidding. This place is packed tighter than a sardine can,” she snorted. “Glad you came out for air before you got all moldy and stuffy!”

  Stephan laughed out loud and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Cassandra. Always a pleasure.”

  Trevor took his seat, tucked Cassandra against his side, and pointed to the chair across from him with a tip of his pint. “Join us.”

  Stephan froze when he turned to take the seat Trevor pointed at and his eyes collided with the biggest, bluest eyes that had haunted his dreams and stirred his blood these last months. Jessica. Suddenly bereft of speech, he found himself standing and staring like a schoolboy faced with his biggest crush.

  She wore a similar expression of stupefaction on her lovely face. A face that had haunted his dreams and brought to the surface his deepest hopes and wishes. And a reminder he could never take what was once offered.

  “Is anybody joining you? I think we can squeeze in if needed.” Trevor’s comment cleared the haze covering his brain.

  Stephan cleared his throat. “Uh…no. Nobody’s joining me. I came in for a pint. I’m on my way home. Driving. Alone.” Hell. Where did that stupid line come from? “I mean…I shouldn’t stay long. I just dropped in for a pint before heading home.”

  What power did she have to make him feel so out of sorts? Apparently all of them—and then some. He hadn’t stumbled over his words since his first time with a woman. And considering his age, he should have been long past the point of being made to feel uncomfortable by a woman’s presence. Yet she did just that. She brought forward a duality of feelings inside him—the most primal need to take her as his, and the denial, the reluctance to do so knowing the toll that it would take on her. On him.

  Stephan could feel Trevor and Cassandra’s scrutiny at their exchange, their eyes ping-ponging between him and Jessica.

  “You two remember each other, right?” Cassandra peeped in the background.

  “Sure do. Hi, Stephan. How have you been?” The surprise that had shined earlier from Jessica’s face been replaced by a soft, bordering on devious, in his opinion, smile. Her voice was silken oak and as sweet as he remembered.

  “Not bad. And yourself?”

  “Hanging in there.” Jessica held his eyes in a confident silent exchange.

  His throat tightened and he resisted the urge to pull at his collar.

  “What’s your poison?” Trevor asked as Stephan took the chair next to Jessica’s. “It’s all on me tonight. We are celebrating!”

  Stephan, finally able to break the hold Jessica seemed to have on him, turned his attention to Trevor and met his mischievous gaze. “Just a pint.”

  He watched as Trevor called the waitress’s attention and ordered his beer. He still had that inquisitive quality to him that reminded Stephan of his good friend Conor. They were so much alike. A pang of wistfulness speared through him. Just as Trevor did, he too needed closure regarding the disappearance of his best friend. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Jessica’s move to Dublin!” Cassandra’s eyes twinkled and her voice took a higher pitch, excitement spilling over.

  Then the meaning of the words took hold of his mind and brought his heart almost to a full stop. “Moving? Here? Oh, right! The job offer.” He couldn’t sound more pathetic if he tried.

  Jessica’s smile dimmed. Her eyes took on a sharper quality and pierced the distance between them. “Yeah. That and, as a friend told me, the hidden delights of Dublin.”

  “I can’t wait to get back to the old days.”

  Jessica’s eyes diverted from him to Cassandra and immediately filled with warmth. “I can’t wait either, Cassie! It’ll be fun!” When she caught Trevor’s scowl, she added, “Well…as much fun as work permits.”

  “You are no fun, Trev,” Cassandra teased.

  “I’m sure you’ll find ways to drive me bonkers with your girlie talk.”

  “Hey! You and George drive me bonkers with your geek talk.”

  “I thought that drove you crazy in a good way.” Trevor raised his eyebrow and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.

  Stephan chuckled at their exchange. Trevor and Cassandra’s banter was so fluid and natural. It filled their lives with laughter and made their union unique in the eyes of others. It also made the lack of that sort of connection a sore spot for Stephan. “Come on, you two.”

  The waitress reached over his shoulder and set his pint of Guinness in front of him, breaking the conversation. The night rolled smoothly after that, aside from the heavy and uncomfortable tension brewing between him and Jessica. He had a pit in his stomach during the entire hour he sat beside her, participating in the conversation without quite knowing what the subject was about, totally focused on and in tune with her own anxiety. He wondered if his was as palpable and if the others were picking up on it, like he was on Jessica’s.

  When he had reached his limit of self-inflicted restraint, he made his move. “Well…it was nice running in to you all here. Unfortunately, I need to take my leave.” Jessica’s eyes bore into him.

  “So early? The night’s still young,” Cassandra frowned.

  “The night might be young, but I’m sure not.”

  Trevor burst out in laughter. “Yeah…old man. You talk as if you are ages older than you really are. You need to get out more. That’s what you need.”

  “I really need to go. I have an early day tomorrow.” Looking at Cassandra, he prompted, “Call me to arrange that dinner with Terese.”

  “Terese?” Jessica blurted out, disappointment coloring her tone. Stephan’s gaze shot to her and studied her with a curious intensity until she dropped her eyes to her pint glass.

  “Stephan’s friend. Although I am sure she would love to be more than that,” Cassandra joked in reply to Jessica’s question.

  “Oh.” Jessica flicked her eyes to Stephan’s. It was as if a light had gone off in them and he kicked himself for even mentioning Terese. On the other hand, it served the purpose. He had to cut the ties that held him captive to Jessica. If that was the only way to put distance between them, then he was taking it.

  “Well…I hope to see you all soon. Trev, Cassandra, Jessica.” He nodded at them, but before he could move away, Jessica sprang her hand out. He automatically took it in his and the zing that flashed from that touch almost caused him to drop it and shake out his hand.

  “Nice seeing you again, Stephan
.” Sincerity bled from her eyes and words.

  “Nice seeing you, too, Jessica.” He squeezed her hand, committing the softness of her skin to his memory once more and, turning, made his way through the still thick crowd and to the evening’s crisp spring air.

  The brief contact affected him as much as their previous one had. No, more. Amplified by months of wanting, craving, and wondering what it would have been like if he had not followed his conscience back then. He shook his head and flicked the devil off his shoulder. He hadn’t fallen for the temptation back then, and he steeled himself to maintain that vow. He just needed to avoid seeing her again. He didn’t know if he could withstand another shot of the raw need coursing through him from just that one little meeting. He exhaled deeply and set out for his car and out of temptation’s reach.

  Chapter Eight

  Hominess

  THE WAITING GAME WAS GETTING to him. The time it was taking to secure crucial details coupled with being cooped up in the house was driving him mad. Trevor’s stomach churned with eagerness to get his hands on the decrypter before the people who stole it could finish its development. His mind buzzed with the need to move faster.

  Since Jessica’s arrival, Cassandra had been able to keep busy showing Jessica the ropes and getting her situated in Dublin. He knew they needed time together, so that had left him with nothing else to do but wait for the taps to bear more fruit.

  “I’m going for a walk to the post office and for some fresh air.”

  Cassandra glanced at him with a questioning look in her eyes. “Want me to come with? Keep you company?”

  “No.” He walked over and dropped a light kiss on her lips. “I just need to clear my head, a ghrá. I won’t be long.”

  “Go. Take all the time you need. Jessica just left to go shopping and settle her banking here. That leaves me plenty of time to handle the last of the background checks uninterrupted. I’m almost finished reviewing the new transcripts. I should be done by then.”

  “Brilliant, love.” Kissing Cassandra’s brow, he headed out.

  Trevor’s mind was crowded with thoughts of the meeting to take place in Prague. The name of the contact was familiar, but he had yet to place him or connect the dots. Maybe the face-to-face with Mucha would trigger a memory, providing him with more clues than the notes themselves. If Mucha was indeed an acquaintance of his parents and possessed information regarding the circumstances of their disappearance, Trevor could close their case in his heart and move on with his life. Move on with Cassandra by his side. Even start the family he’d dreamed of having for so long.

  He and Cassandra, both only children, had never discussed having children of their own. The idea was appealing. So much so that Trevor wondered how he’d feel if and when Cassandra found herself pregnant with his child. Delight swelled in his heart and warmth flooded his chest as a visual of her tummy round with their son or daughter filled his mind. He looked forward to the day, but he knew they were in no position to take such a big step at that moment.

  Trevor would broach the subject with her once their quest reached its end, no matter what that ending could be. It would be something special to him if, at that time, they could consider relocating to Sligo and to his parent’s country home overlooking Ben Bulben. There, they would be able to spend quality time doing things that brought them pleasure, instead of constantly on a drive to find the next clue, the next piece of the puzzle.

  Trevor tucked those fantasies in a little corner of his mind and withdrew from his daydreaming only to realize he’d been wandering around for a while. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk on O’Connell Street contemplating what to do next. He wasn’t ready to go home just yet. It was shaping up to be a beautiful spring day in Dublin. If he lost himself in the warmth of the sunlight, in the sounds of birds chirping from the trees lining the street, in the mindless excitement flowing from the tourists, maybe, just maybe, his mood would improve a notch.

  Distracted within himself, Trevor was startled by a jostle from the side. His head swung to the origin of impact and he found a tourist holding one of the biggest cameras he’d ever seen, looking back at him with a nervous smile. “So sorry, I didn’t see you.”

  “No problem, mate. Nothing broken,” Trevor teased, and nodded to the lens on the tourist’s camera. “Nice lens. Perfect for wide shots.”

  The tourist flashed a relieved smile and beamed at the compliment. “I love it. I’ve gotten some great shots of Dublin. Can’t wait to get home to show the family. Sorry again.”

  With a contemplative look, Trevor watched the man walk away. Talking about the lens had reminded him of something he needed to take care of. But first, he had to face his demons. He turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the Financial District and Brennan Enterprises. He hadn’t been there in a few years; he had avoided it since the day he and Cassandra had returned to Dublin, fearing the emotions being there would evoke.

  At the sight of the large, imposing glass building, his throat constricted. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the revolving door. As he reached the other side, the tangy air of the lobby hit his senses. It had not changed in the years since his father’s presence had graced its walls. The scent of floral arrangements, the ping of elevators, and the hustle and bustle of the corporate environment bombarded him with memories of the days when he used to visit his dad.

  He joined the visitor line and clamped down his emotions. A few moments later, an older security guard approached him. “Mr. Brennan?”

  Trevor turned to him with a questioning look.

  “You may not remember me—name’s Jacobson. You used to come to visit your dad and I would take you up. I recognized you immediately. You are the spitting image of your da.”

  Trevor smiled. “I do remember. How are you?”

  “Fine sir. I take it you’re here to see Mr. Connellan?” At Trevor’s nod he continued. “You can go straight up. No need to stand in line.”

  Trevor reached for his hand for a heartfelt handshake. “Thank you, Jacobson.”

  “My pleasure. Your da was a good man. He’s sorely missed.”

  He watched as Jacobson walked away and blinked his eyes several times to clear the moisture coating them. Yes, he is sorely missed. With renewed purpose, Trevor headed up to Stephan’s office.

  Máire O’Neill sat behind her desk just as he remembered from the last time he had been there, when she was his father’s secretary. She looked up and a warm smile spread on her face. She seemed unchanged except for a few more lines of age and wisdom creasing the corners of her cheery eyes.

  “Trevor Joseph Brennan! About time you came around to visit. Heard all about your wedding to a lovely American girl.”

  He hugged her petite frame and a familiar sense of hominess hit him square in the chest. “Good to see you too, Miss Máire.”

  “What brings you here? I am sure it wasn’t to see this old lady.”

  Trevor’s face flushed. He knew he had avoided this visit for far too long. “Is Stephan in?”

  “Yes, he is. He’s not with anyone at the moment. Just head in,” she shooed him on.

  Knocking on the door, he walked in and found the man hunched over his desk reviewing the contents of a file. Trevor smiled as he stood by the desk waiting for Stephan to surface. It was a position Trevor remembered well when he was younger. His smile widened when Stephan raised a finger. His version of, “I know you are there, give me a second.”

  To kill time, Trevor walked the room, looking over the pictures on the walls. One immediately drew his eye; as he stepped up to it, he knew why—it had been taken years ago on the lake. They—his parents, Stephan, and Trevor—had just returned from a great day of sailing. Trevor felt a pinch in his heart as he gazed on their smiling faces. Damn he missed them. Which brought him to the reason he was there in the first place.

  A rustling and chair rolling drew Trevor’s attention back to Stephan and he moved to meet him halfway. Trevor extended his hand; gripping it,
Stephan pulled him into a hug. “Trevor. So good to see you, lad.”

  Trevor grinned. “You act like we weren’t just at the pub the other night, old man.”

  Stephan scoffed and led him to the guest chairs, taking the one next to him. “It’s good to have you here.”

  Trevor leaned back and steepled his fingers, contemplating the man who had been like an uncle to him.

  Stephan’s eyes narrowed. “I can see something’s on your mind.”

  With a deep sigh, Trevor held his gaze. “I thought I should come by and check on things.”

  “It’s about time.” Stephan studied him for a few moments, then asked, “How have you been handling it?”

  Trevor couldn’t feign not understanding Stephan’s question. He knew him too well. They had been through much together. “Having Cassie with me helps. Some days more than others. But I can’t deny it’s never going away. At least not until I find out for sure.”

  “Are you still pursuing that? Even after France?”

  “Yes. Not much has come of it. But we won’t give up until we find them.” His voice lowered. “Dead or Alive.”

  Stephan nodded and grief colored his eyes. “Is there anything I can do…to help?”

  “You are already helping. By not pressing me into taking Dad’s place here.”

  “Whenever you are ready. Until you are, I will keep you up to date. We do need to discuss some new hires I might be handling.”

  “Do whatever you feel necessary, Stephan. I trust your judgment, just as Dad did.” Trevor exhaled a deep breath. “I don’t think I can be here just yet.”

  “Understandable. Keep me apprised of any developments, though. You know your father was like a big brother to me. I need to—” Stephan ran his hand through his hair. “Hell. I need to know as much as you do. If I can help in any way, just say so.”

  “I understand Stephan. I will. Don’t worry.” Trevor stood and Stephan joined him. “I need to get going. Cassie will kill me if I don’t get back soon. I left her holding the fort.”