“So it’s another guy thing, huh?” Gia said, punching him lightly on the shoulder, guy style.

He glanced at her and saw the rueful twist of her smile. “To da moon, Alice!”

She laughed and turned to watch the receding Eisenhower jacket. She sighed. “Old soldiers…”

But Jack was back to looking out for some young soldiers, Serb vets. He knew that if and when they met again, they wouldn’t fade away, and there sure as hell would be no handshakes.

5

The third key Luc tried worked. He opened the door, stepped inside, and quickly closed it behind him. The shades were down but enough sunlight filtered through to illuminate the waiting area of the diabetes clinic.

Now he could relax—a little. No one would be in for the rest of the day, especially Nadia, who was still with the police, giving statements and filling out forms. Luc had given a brief statement, then begged off, claiming a prior engagement. His involvement had been peripheral, after all.

At least to all appearances. But his brain burned with the need to silence Nadia and to learn why Prather had deviated from his instructions regarding Gleason.

Prather, however, had been infuriatingly vague when Luc finally had reached him by phone.

“Some unforeseen circumstances came up,” was all he’d say.

When Luc had inquired—discreetly, of course—about “the remains,” Prather had laughed and said, “Don’t give that a second thought, Doctor! I’ve found an absolutely foolproof means of disposal!”

He’d sounded oddly excited.

The brief exchange had left Luc feeling frustrated and helpless. Taking a deep breath, he thrust Prather from his thoughts and looked around the front area of the clinic. He’d been here once during Nadia’s brief recruitment phase, stopping by more out of nostalgia than the need to see her in action. He’d worked a clinic like this down in the Village during his residency. Lord, how long ago was that? Seemed like another epoch.

Maybe he could go back to something like this in France. Put some of his training to use again with people instead of molecules.

He shook off the distracting trains of thought. He was getting ahead of himself, and off track. If he didn’t take care of Nadia, he could forget planning anything in France.

As he pulled on a pair of latex examination gloves, Luc noticed that his palms were sweaty. Tension coiled at the back of his neck. He kept imagining someone coming in and catching him here.

Let’s get this over with, he thought as he moved toward the rear of the clinic.

No windows in the rear office, so he had to fumble for a light switch. As the overhead fluorescents flickered to life, he immediately spotted what he was looking for. Next to the empty Mr. Coffee sat a big black mug with NADJ printed in thick white block capitals across the front. He’d remembered it from his brief visit. He’d even remarked laughingly that no one could ever say they’d used her cup by mistake.