"I don't think so!" She matched the smug grin on Kris' face with one of her own.

Chuckling, Kris looked at her watch. "'Bout time to go."

"You didn't see anyone?"

"No."

Shelby smiled and said emphatically, "Good."

The operative quirked a half smile as she shook her head, wondering where the analyst found her optimism. Send some my way, woman. I could use it right about now.

Totally unaware of the warm smile covering her face, Kris watched as Shelby bade the kitten farewell.



*  *  *

The operative waited until Shelby was thoroughly engrossed in her work, then pulled up the embassy file on the Russian Federation. She scrolled through the short list of names and their purported jobs. Locating Markov, Kris found that he was officially assigned as a driver to both Gregor Mikhailovich Koslov and Dimitri Nekitych Pyetsky, who were both listed as political attaches. Yeah right.

Not recognizing either name, she clicked on Koslov first, and a close up photo opened on her screen. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the man. She read all the biographical information available, then returned to the main screen and clicked on Pyetsky.

Kris blanched as the familiar face appeared on the monitor before her.

Shelby glanced at her companion. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

Quickly pressing the ALT and TAB key on her keyboard simultaneously, Kris nodded and smiled wanly. "Yeah. It's just a little warm in here today."

Shelby hadn't thought so, but Kris did look uncomfortable. "I was going to get something to drink. Want anything?"

Regaining her composure, Kris smiled. "What are the choices?"

"Cranberry or orange juice, Coke, Cherry Coke, Diet Coke, Ginger Ale, Sprite, and Iced Tea."

"Coke sounds good." Kris reached into her pocket, but Shelby waved her off. "I'll get it this time."

Kris watched her walk out of the office, then quickly switched the screen back to the man she knew as Sergei Pavlovich Yanov. You rotten bastard. You've done pretty well, haven't you? She read his biography noting that some key information had not been uncovered, which didn't really surprise her. If it had been, he would have been deported upon his arrival in the States.

The operative closed the screen and processed the information. She had a phone call to make before deciding on a specific course of action, but the stakes had just been raised.



*  *  *

"Hey, Shelby."

The analyst secured the bottle of cranberry juice from the tray of the drink machine and smiled at the familiar voice. "Hi, Maggie. How's it going?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Rumor has it you're working on a really hot case."

Shelby shrugged. "Same ol'. How about you?"

"I'm stuck doing a records audit right now. Who's that woman you're working with? Is she new or a transferee?"

"She's just on loan for this case."

"So it is a hot case." Maggie grinned triumphantly. "I knew it!"

"Oh come on, Maggie. You know how the rumor mill is. Everything is so exaggerated. It's just a regular case, but it requires a lot of research so I got some help." Shelby smiled, very disturbed, but determined not to show it. "Really."

"Okay." Maggie grinned conspiratorially. "So heard any good gossip?"

"No. I've been kind of busy and haven't been to the cafeteria much lately. Seems like most of the rumors start there."

"I did."

Shelby grinned. "Okay. I'll bite. What'd you hear?"

"You ever hear of Blue?"

Suddenly tense, Shelby said warily, "Yeah."

"Blue is here."

Shelby forced skepticism into her voice. "I'm sure. For what?"

"Who knows? Who knows why they do anything they do around here?"

"True. Let me know if you hear anything else."

"No problem. Gotta go."

"Me too. See you later."

Maggie watched Shelby walk down the hall before heading back to her own office.

Kris listened to Shelby greet the Marine as she walked into the office. "Took you long enough. I was going to send out a search party."

"Very funny! Had to catch up on the rumor mill."

"Anything interesting?"

Shelby gazed at the beautiful blue eyes regarding her curiously. "You know how the rumor mill is. You gotta take everything with a grain of salt."

You are avoiding my question. Why? What did you hear? Kris took the Coke Shelby handed her and smiled disarmingly. "I hear you. Funny thing is, though, most of the rumors have some truth to them. It's just usually distorted."

"Yep. That's why I don't pay much attention to them," Shelby responded dismissively. "Find anything interesting in the satellite transmissions?"

Looks like I'm going to have to do my own homework. "No."

"I can't believe we haven't eliminated even one name today." Shelby didn't particularly care that they hadn't narrowed the list down, but wanted to steer the conversation away from Kris' question.

"It's still early. I'm sure we'll find a couple more before we leave."

Kris was disappointed that Shelby appeared to be so driven to bring the case to a conclusion. She had no choice but to hurry the case along, but the analyst wasn't under the constraints she was. Can you blame her? She's stuck with you twenty-four hours a day. Since she's been working on this case she's been shot at and followed. Why wouldn't she want to hurry the case along? True. Kris silenced the discordant voices and returned her attention to the monitor.



*  *  *

Kris stood up at 11:30. "I need to take care of some personal business. Mind if I use your car?"

She's going out now? A crease appeared on Shelby's brow. "No."

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Kris smiled, "No, you don't mind, or no I can't use your car?"

The analyst returned her smile. "No, I don't mind." She opened the desk drawer and pulled the keys from her purse, handing them to Kris. "Aren't you gonna wear your sunglasses?"

Kris cut wary eyes toward Shelby. "It was cloudy this morning and supposed to rain, remember? I thought I'd wait and see if I needed them."

"They look nice on you. You should put them on." God, Shelby, couldn't you think of anything better than that? All you're gonna do is make her suspicious.

"What gives?"

"Do you remember when you asked me to trust you this morning?" When Kris nodded, Shelby continued, "It's your turn to trust me. Please put your sunglasses on until you get in the car."

Swayed by the worry reflected on Shelby's countenance, Kris pulled the glasses from her jacket pocket and casually donned them. She intended to find out what was going on when she got back. A barely audible, "Thanks," followed her through the door.

Shelby momentarily questioned her decision to lend the operative her car. She had no doubt that Kris was going to follow up on whatever information she'd obtained from the guy she'd questioned the evening before and she wished the operative had taken some backup, just in case. She also knew if she hadn't lent Kris her car, the operative would've just called a cab and retrieved her rental car from the apartment complex parking lot where it had been parked for the past several days.

The analyst tried to figure out how an operative from another country could've found out who Kris was and tracked her to Virginia. None of what happened the previous evening made any sense. No closer to finding answers than she had been the night before, Shelby's thoughts turned to what she was going to tell Kris when she got back.

She knew the operative was going to ask her why she had insisted she wear her sunglasses. What do I tell her? There was no evidence that Kris was Blue, yet she'd felt the need to protect her from the prying eyes in the building just in case.

Shelby was barely able to stifle a snort at that thought. Protect Blue? Protect an operative with a reputation for deadly ruthlessness and success? What's gotten into me? Kris hadn't looked like she needed any help at all last night. In fact, she had been coolly efficient. Logically, it was unlikely that Blue or Kris would ever need her help. So, what do I tell her?

Well, uh, you see, I heard this rumor about Blue being in headquarters so I thought you should put your sunglasses on. Yeah right! Maybe it would be best to just tell Kris about the rumor and let the operative draw whatever conclusions she wanted. She's gonna know I think she could be Blue and what if I'm wrong? What will she think of me? Shelby decided the only option she had was to play it by ear and turned her attention back to the documents spread across her desk.



*  *  *

Kris made sure she wasn't being tailed and then pulled into a service station that had a public telephone. She dialed the number she had already memorized.

"General Pyetsky."

She had expected the voice of her contact, not him. She slowly hung up the phone and walked back to Shelby's car. Mechanically climbing into the driver's seat, she tried not to think, but the memories that voice elicited wouldn't be held at bay.

It was a cold, overcast winter morning. She was eight years old. A car pulled up in front of their apartment.

She turned to her mother. "He is here."

"This is an honor, Natasha. You are going to a school for gifted children. I am so proud of you."