Читать книгу Natalia’s Game - - Страница 5

Five Years Later

A two-story brick wall stretches fifty yards to my right and left. The wall is interrupted in the middle by a forbidding, rusted iron door wide enough to accept the occasional vehicle. This morning the door is shut. I look at the brick wall. I can make out one word in the stone above the door. I’m not fluent in Romanian, but I know the word “school.” This place can’t be a school; it’s a fortress.

A guard house looms about forty feet above. I look up into an ominous sky serving as background to the tower and shout, “Hey, anybody up there?”

My unexpected greeting creates a commotion resulting in heads popping out of the guard house and three rifles pointed haphazardly in my direction. I doubt these knuckleheads could hit me. One of the guards in the tower speaks broken English.

I rearrange his jumble of words and incorrect idioms to arrive at what I think he is saying: “This is a military installation, and you are in a restricted space. Place your hands in the air and state your name and purpose.” He sounds angry. Junior guys in Romania don’t like taking career risks.

I hold up a white envelope with my name engraved in gold letters. Hoping he understands more English than he can speak, I say, “My name is General Crew Thomas. I am an American invited by SRI General Director Helsing for a meeting tomorrow. My arrival date is today, and here I am.” They immediately pick up the phone, and the gate opens a few loud minutes later. I feel confident that in the decades-long history of the “school,” this is the first time an American has walked through this gate.

An apologetic General Helsing and a few of his staff greet me. One of them, a young woman, speaks nearly perfect English. “Good morning, General Thomas. Welcome to the school. Please tell us how you arrived here?” The female ofifcer is stunning. Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, perfect complexion, statuesque, great body. Head-turning in every way. This girl is unforgettable; she is the one. The girl I saw in the bar and my dream five years ago. She wears a uniform this time, and she is still a 10.

“May I know your name?” I try to sound casual, but my mind is a mess.

* * *

“General Thomas, I am Ofifcer Natalia Net of the SRI.”

Standing there with feet spread and arms hanging casually at his side, the general makes an excellent first impression. He’s confident, wiry, sports hazel eyes, and has big hands. I like big hands. There is nothing on his left ring finger. My gaze flits to his right hand, where I see a black onyx ring with a small diamond piercing the surface. My chest tightens. I’ve seen this man in a dream.

I glance at the onyx ring before settling in on his eyes. They have a touch of permanent and regal sadness.

He says, “Your position here, Ofifcer Net?” I’m nervous but try not to show it.

“I’m from Bucharest. My English is better than that of most government employees here, so they asked me to help.”

“I see. Thank you for helping. To answer your question, I walked.”

I know he’s lying, and I laugh, shake my head, and translate his words to blank stares. No one walks here.