Alexandra Ivanova said as Harvath stepped into her room. “Now.” He ignored the request, as well as the gun she had pointed at him. “You and I need to talk first.” “We don’t have anything to talk about.” Harvath closed the door behind him. “We have lots to talk about. Starting with what you’re doing here.” “What I’m doing here? What are you doing here?” “House hunting.” “Get out,” Alexandra repeated, cocking the hammer of her Czech-made CZ pistol. “Before you ruin my assignment.” “Care to tell me what it is?” “Let me think,” she said. Then, after an extremely brief pause, she replied, “No.” He had forgotten how good English could sound when spoken by a Russian woman, especially one so attractive. Alexandra had always been a striking woman, but she was even better-looking than he remembered.
