A quick trip to England. They’d steal his passport back from Zivon, verify that he’d fallen out of favor with the Admiralty and so was safe, and then return to the Continent. It would take only a week or so, if all went well. They’d find the German officers. Kill them. And then be back in Russia before June had turned to July.

Nadya checked their bags for the eighth time since she’d packed them that morning. To Evgeni’s way of thinking, all that really mattered was that the album was in there, along with the altered photographs Paul’s friend had given them, and bits and pieces of the originals he’d cut up to create them. Evgeni hadn’t spent too much time dwelling on the mutilated remains of Zivon’s past. If he did, it soured his stomach. Because at least half of Zivon’s memories were his too. And he hated to see them used so.

But it was for Zivon’s good, ultimately. And Russia’s good. Sentiment couldn’t long hold up against that.

He slid the new passport into his pocket. He didn’t intend to let this one out of his sight for even a moment. They’d been held up far too long, waiting for Paul to get him a new one.

His eyes went to their pantry shelves. All but empty. “Food?”

Though she sent him a narrow-eyed glance, her lips nearly lost the battle to a smile. “Go and beg some from your pretty little grocer’s daughter, I suppose.”

Evgeni grinned. He rather liked a jealous Nadya. She made him hope that she’d actually stick around for a while. “Not going to come keep an eye on me?”

The smile won possession of her mouth. “I daresay she has no chocolate, so I can trust you.”

He laughed and moved over to plant a sound kiss on those lips. “I won’t be long.” By evening, they’d be on their way.

He grabbed his cap and stepped out into the sunshine, reveling in the pleasant air. His gait wasn’t exactly buoyant as he considered the coming trip. It was dangerous, getting so close to Zivon. Letting Nadya slip into his flat and search for Evgeni’s passport. She would do a fine job, that he knew, but, well, Zivon had always been unpredictable. Stable to the point of boring in some ways, but then he’d simply out-think the rest of them and take everyone by surprise.

And Zivon had been in England months already. He’d know the territory. He’d know the normal look and feel, which meant that if Evgeni and Nadya disrupted a pattern, he would sense it and be on to them within hours. He could foil their plans yet again.