Page 166 of Cry Havoc
“That we too were lost.”
“Perhaps,” Dvornikov said. “Though this war is but a battle when put in context.”
“Will you drink with me?”
“Enough ofLe Fue,and enough of these drinks. They can both wait,”he said, pushing her back onto the bed.
She wondered if he would pass out or die from the chloral hydrate as they made love with the windows open.
As it turned out, he did neither, though he was sweating more than she remembered, whether from the drug or from his latest exertion, it was hard to tell.
“I am going to take a bath,” she said, slipping from the covers. “Can I bring you your drink?”
“Please,” he said, propping himself up on the large pillows to admire her.
She handed him the glass of Mekhong knowing he could not help but to finish it. When she was done bathing, he would be unconscious. She would dress and go to the lobby, where she would hand her room key to the young Vietnamese man in the employ of the CIA. She would then go to dinner and continue drinking to calm her nerves. When she returned to her suite, Gabriel would be gone, as would Nick Serrano and Tom Reece. They would have disappeared from her life forever. She would then go back to her routine and continue building the company her father had started, putting all this behind her. And if the security man thwarted the CIA’s plans, then Hanoi and the Soviets could continue to exert their pressure on the Americans and bring the war to a close.
She could feel Gabriel’s eyes on her as she picked up her champagne flute from the bar and walked naked to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. Only then did she allow herself a deep breath. She set her glass on the sink, grabbing the countertop to steady herself. She was almost done. She looked at herself in the mirror, fighting to get her emotions under control.
Did I just sleep with the man who killed my father?
That first sip wasn’t enough. He needs to finish the drink. When you get out of the bath in twenty minutes he will be sedated.
She started the bath water and held her hand under the spout, adjusting the faucet handles until the temperature was just right.
She then opened a container of bubble foam and poured it under the running water in the hopes it would help her relax.
As the tub filled, she returned to her flute and downed the remainder of her champagne before sliding beneath the warm bubbles.
Let this be over soon.
CHAPTER 60
“IT’S GETTING DARK,” TOMnoted.
He turned from the balcony and walked inside, where Serrano was playing a game of solitaire. Sweat trickled down his back, dampening the back of his beige button-up shirt with epaulettes. It was untucked to cover the custom Browning Hi-Power holstered behind his hip and the EK knife mounted horizontally on the back of his belt. Two extra magazines were on his left side, and the Hackman Puukko latch-knife was in his right pocket.
“She’ll be down shortly,” Serrano said.
“And if not?”
“Listen, when chloral hydrate is combined with alcohol it will act quickly. For someone of Dvornikov’s age and size, after a couple sips, I give him ten to twenty minutes. He’ll be out cold.”
“What if he doesn’t have a drink, or she didn’t have time to spike it?”
“Ella made a point of telling us that they had a routine. Drinks in the room are always a part of it. Be patient. Let it play out.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it; you’ve just got to do it.”
Tom went back to the balcony, put his hands on the railing, and looked out over the river still teeming with boat traffic, illuminated by the lights of the city beyond.
Ella stepped from the bathtub and toweled herself dry. She had not heard a sound from the bedroom.
The powder must have worked.
She wrapped the towel around her head in a makeshift turban and slipped into a hotel bathrobe.
