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“What did Pavlovich say to that?”
“He said ‘fine’… that Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Rubbing his jaw, Nik said, “But I think Pavlovich is testing him. I’ll give him this: he asked about how the Quechua Indians who are doing the work raising the coca plants are being treated.”
“That must have gone well,” Daria said drily.
“Korsak lied,” he snarled under his breath, his fists curling for a moment. “I kept quiet. There’s no sense in bringing up any of this in that meeting. I wanted to be a fly on the wall, not the center of attention.”
“Still, he’s inquiring about the Indians? Does that mean he cares how they’re treated?”
“I don’t know, Daria. In my heart, I pray it’s so. Pavlovich seems to be more a manager of people than a brutal despot like Yerik Alexandrov and his son were with the team’s operating procedures down here. I don’t know if that went over Korsak’s head or not.”
“And what about you? Are you still Pavlovich’s Golden Boy?” and she smiled a little, holding his worried gaze.
Nik groaned. “I have no idea. He said nothing to me. His whole focus was on Korsak, the logistics issues with the team, getting supplies in, things we need in the field, equipment, and armory issues. We are continuing to also fight the two other Latino drug lords for the same territory. Korsak knew his stuff, and I think Pavlovich was impressed with that part of him.”
“Pavlovich isn’t a brute, then?”
He straightened. “That remains to be seen.” He gave her a sad look. “I need to talk to Jack Driscoll, and fill him in on all the details.”
Daria rose. “Yes, I think they’re all a little uptight over this new development. Hold on, my sat phone’s in the bedroom. I’ll go get it.”
And she went and did so, and then came back.
Daria puttered around the kitchen, putting a roast chicken together with the potatoes while she kept one ear on Nik’s end of the long, detailed conversation with her boss, Jack. She felt unsettled, but didn’t know why. Nik seemed consumed with some other issue that he wasn’t talking about. Every once in a while, she’d see him lift his head and look over at her, deep concern in his gaze. She felt as if a scimitar were hanging over her head, invisible, but dangling by a thread just the same. She turned on the oven, placing the meat and vegetables into the roaster. They would eat at fivep.m. At least they had tonight together and she wasn’t sure what would happen between them, if anything.
It was nearly an hour before Nik ended the sat phone call. He set it down between them on the couch. “You heard everything?” she asked.
“Yes.” He looked distracted. She’d known him for only a short time, but there was clearly an invisible line strung between them. Daria reached out, allowing her fingers to trail down his arm. “What else, Nik? You look, well… harried? Distracted? Something’s bothering you. What is it?” He didn’t need to be lambasted with more issues right now. She saw him give her a stressed look, his mouth tucked in at the corners.
He moved the sat phone over onto the coffee table. “Come over here,” he urged, moving to the opposite corner of the couch from her and opening his arms. “Come sit with me?”
Perplexed, hearing veiled torment in his low tone, she unwound and scooted over to him. It was so easy to fold herself up against Nik, just like she had last night. His arm came around her and she rested her head on his shoulder, studying him, seeing the play of emotions alive and turbulent in his blue eyes. “Tell me?” she urged huskily, resting her hand over his heart. It was pounding harder than usual. “What can I do to help you, Nik?”
He brushed his hand across her jaw, looking deeply into her eyes. “You are the most unselfish woman I’ve ever known.” He slid his other hand across hers that rested over his heart, the living connection between them. “I’m about to cause you great pain, Daria,” he warned her, his voice taut, filled with regret.
“What do you mean?”
Nik took a deep, roughened breath. “When I saw Rolan Pavlovich come off the train, the light wasn’t very good. But I noticed something dark on the left side of his neck. When we got to the hotel… Under better light… I couldn’t believe what I saw.” Tensing, he held her uplifted gaze. Daria looked so damned innocent. So undeserving of what he was about to tell her. Nik knew it would shake her world and everything would change forever as a result. He rasped, “It was a birthmark, Daria. Exactly like yours, but with just a slight change.” He saw her eyes widen as the information sunk in.
“You’re kidding!” she said, suddenly sitting up, staring at him in disbelief. “No way, Nik. Are youSURE?”
Miserably, he lowered his head and nodded. “I’mVERYsure, Kitten. I looked at it all morning and into the early afternoon today.” He saw confusion in her face. Shock. As if a bombshell had just gone off. He saw her mind moving at the speed of light. “I’m a combat corpsman. I took courses in genomics, as well,” he began heavily. “Birthmarks are a genetic marker in some families,” and his hand tightened around hers, not allowing her to pull it away from him. He saw the denial come to her expression. “Birthmarks usually occur from one generation to another in a family. And usually, they aren’t exactly alike, but often, they appear on the same side of the body, sometimes on the same part of the anatomy. I’ve seen many birthmarks over my career as a corpsman.”
His heart ached for Daria as he saw the denial fade and a lost look of horror replace it. “Pavlovich has black hair, the same shade as yours. His eyes are gold and brown, too, but yours are more gold than his. He has an oval face and, honestly, Daria? I could see the stamp of him in you. It was very apparent.” Wincing internally, Nik saw her lips part, her eyes widen enormously. Releasing his hand, she slipped off the couch, her arms wrapped around herself, staring down at him.
Hollowly, he said, “I’m sorry, Daria. I didn’t want to tell you this, but I knew I must. If Pavlovich ever sees you in town while you’re here, he’d know without a doubt that you’re somehow related to him. His birthmark is nearly exactly like yours. And what then?”
“No…,” Daria whispered unsteadily, “I don’t want to believe this, Nik! Are youSURE?”
A wall of pain hit him. Daria’s pain. “Yes. There is no doubt in my mind. I know what I see. If I could have taken a photo of him, I would have. But he allows no pictures of himself.”
Daria shook her head, desperate, looking around the room, as if to run away from the conversation. “This is crazy!Crazy, Nik! What the hell are the odds I’d meet an unknown relative out here in this green hell?” and she glared at him. Spinning around, she paced the room, head down, one hand against her mouth, the ramifications closing in on her.
Nik allowed her the time to adjust. “I worry, Daria. If he sees you, sees that birthmark, I wonder what he’ll do? Does he even know you exist?” He stood and stopped her from pacing, enfolding her into his arms to give her some kind of comfort. Nik knew it was too little, but he couldn’t stand the anguish in her eyes. Holding Daria gently against him, his arms around her waist, he said, “You heard me on the sat phone ask Driscoll for photos of Pavlovich’s two sons?”
“Well,” she stumbled, “yes, but I didn’t know why.”
“Because Jack was able to get into the computer system at Langley and access them. I asked him if there was any identifying marks on either of them.” His voice grew weary. “Both sons, now dead, had that identical birthmark on the left side of their necks. I asked Driscoll to describe it and he said it looked like a quarter moon.”
