The Soviet Comeback by Jamie Smith (best ereader for academics TXT) 📕

the back, plucking a bottle of Pepto Bismol from the shopping and taking a long drink, before wiping his mouth and screwing the cap back on. Then he turned to face Elysia, whose beauty knocked him for six. He rubbed his eyes and took another swig in an effort to cure his hangover.

“What do you want, Elysia?” he said slowly, working hard not to let his Russian accent reveal itself. “Why are you here?”

“Just drive,” she replied sharply.

He said nothing and started the engine. They drove in silence, the tension fraught between them. Nikita sat stiffly, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the road. The motion of the car was unpleasant for his fuzzy head.

Eventually, after several minutes, keeping her facing forwards Elysia said simply, “I know, Nathan.”

Nikita kept his hands straight out on the wheel and didn’t falter. Her statement left him considering the implications.

“Ti?” he asked, switching to Greek to keep the ‘what’ from sounding too accusatory.

She smirked briefly. “I know who you are. Who you really are,” she stated flatly.

“Is that right?” he said as he took a right turn. “Do tell.”

“You want to know how I found you?”

“That is another question I would be very interested to hear the answer to,” Nikita replied as he pulled up to his house.

“Where are we?” she asked swiftly.

“This is my home. Do you see what I did there — I answered a question,” he replied drily. “Let’s talk more inside.”

She was striding up the path before Nikita had even opened his door. He had to reach past her to open the front door and caught what felt like a fatal waft of her perfume. He forced himself to be impervious and followed her inside.

“Sit down,” he said sharply as he closed the door.

“Excuse me?” she replied.

“Sit down and start answering my questions.”

Elysia laughed. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I’ll sit when I damn well want to,” she replied defiantly.

Nikita looked skywards, and upon entering the kitchen, pulled a bottle of wine from his shopping bag and poured them both a glass. Carrying them over to the living room, he sat down in the armchair and placed both glasses on the low coffee table in front of him.

“Isn’t it a little early for wine?” she asked sharply, lowering herself onto the sofa, eyeing him strongly to see if he would comment.

“I’m all out of coffee,” he grunted, taking a sip of the dark red Nemea.

She took a tentative sip from her own glass and raised her eyebrows. “Greek wine?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, you gave me a taste for it.”

Elysia looked pleased, but Nikita swiftly followed up. “Come on, Elysia, enough with the cryptic statements. You have no idea what I’ve gone through since I saw you two days ago.”

“I think I might have a hunch,” she responded. Nikita opened his mouth to start talking but she stopped him with a look. “When you didn’t show up again yesterday, I was furious and wanted to let you know it. But you’re like a ghost, flitting around from Skyros to Baltimore, giving nothing of yourself away. I can’t explain it, but I just felt compelled to try and find you; I had to know…” her voice wobbled and left the sentence hanging tautly.

“Go on,” Nikita whispered.

“As I sat waiting in that shitty bar, I was watching the TV which was showing a live high-speed pursuit. Even from distance, I knew you immediately. You aren’t in the police, are you?”

Nikita said and did nothing, but gazed sadly into her eyes, his skin prickling with sorrow. He took a sip of wine, just to do something other than get trapped in her eyes. It was helping to settle his stomach if nothing else.

“You don’t have to answer, I know the truth. You’re CIA. I doubt Nathan is even your real name, is it?”

Nikita shook his head; there was no harm in her knowing that much at this stage.

She slumped. “Then nothing you said or did when we were together was true.” There was a silence in which silent tears fell down Elysia’s face. The pain he was causing her was unbearable for Nikita.

He leant forward and took her hand gently in his. “Elysia, there is so much I would tell you and so little that I can. But please know this — you meant more to me than anyone ever has done and since we parted you have occupied my every thought.”

She laughed disdainfully. “Sure. Like I could believe you even if it was true.”

“Can you believe this?” Nikita said, as he pulled her up and kissed her deeply on the lips. She kissed him back and he pulled her close.

“Get off me!” she suddenly exclaimed, pushing him away. She put her hand to her mouth and looked up at him.

“The feeling in that kiss is something reserved only for you, Elysia, always for you,” Nikita said hesitantly in his deep, slow voice.

“I don’t know what I can believe any more.”

“How did you find me?” Nikita asked again. “I need to know.”

Elysia slumped back onto the sofa. “I didn’t find you,” she sighed. “I did come to Langley to find you but had no idea where to look. I thought maybe I’d head to the CIA building and see if they would tell me anything. I stopped to get something to eat, and there you were in the car park.”

“Come on, Elysia, you can’t expect me to believe that.”

She shrugged. “It’s up to you what you choose to believe. The gods must have wanted us to see each other again.”

Incredulity was plastered across Nikita’s face. “There is no such thing as a coincidence in my line of work.”

“It wasn’t really a coincidence. I came to find you;