10
“Do you dance?” A woman’s voice on the phone asked him in Russian. Tanya Larina.
“Do I…dance?”
Bethany was looking at him strangely. They’d finished most of the pizza and both beers. Now they were at either end of the couch and talking about dogs. Big surprise there. He’d managed to avoid the protectee topic, mostly.
“Da. Ya tantsuyu,” was all Alex could think to say.
“Good. Your Lieutenant Carlton Tibbets does not run and I can not imagine that he dances. Is he even alive? My day is over and I need to drop it in the road. Leave your dog and pick me up in fifteen minutes. We are going dancing.” And she hung up.
He put his phone away and ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out what had just happened.
“What’s up?” Bethany still sat on the end of his couch.
“Uh,” he was
