He clinked glasses, smiled and sipped. She was right; it was a gift. Alex felt her eyes on him, and lowered the glass.

“So, Alex, you found your way home … to Jack Hammerson at least. That is good, I think.” She sipped again, watching him, her gaze intense. “He will forgive me, or at least forget me, yes?”

Alex shrugged. “Hammerson forgets nothing. Maybe he’ll tolerate you. He knew you were in America, and did nothing. And you know he could have.”

“I paid my debt,” she said, lowering her glass. “After the Black Mountain, even my own country wanted me gone.” She sat back. “Like I said, I paid my debt. I always pay my debt.”

“I know you did. We all have to atone for our sins at some time. Perhaps that’s why we do this … us type of people,” Alex said, toasting her.

“You found your way home.” She fiddled with her glass. “Found your way back to Angie, or was it Aimee?” She looked up with a twinkle in her eye. “Everything is good now, huh?”

“Aimee.” Alex nodded. “I found her, but haven’t spoken to her yet. It’s not easy. Things are still … complicated.” He scoffed and sat back. “And look, here I am, nearly eight thousand miles away. Like I said, not easy.”

“I know it’s not easy.” She held his gaze. “That’s because us type of people are the only ones that understand us type of people.” She slid forward, placing fingers on the back of his hand. She rubbed his knuckles. “And perhaps that’s why I am still a wandering soul.” She turned his hand over, palm to palm. “I missed you. I can say that, even if you don’t remember us, together. But I do.” She smiled sadly. “If I had a wish, it would be to have that time again, just you and me on that beach.”

“Another life,” Alex said.

Lev brought the first platter of food, and their hands separated as he laid it down with a flourish. “Flame seared, peppered lamb on a bed of cous cous.” He bowed and departed.

Alex inhaled the aromas of the spices and roasted meat. “Looks magnificent.”

Adira continued to stare at him with liquid brown eyes. “Yes, magnificent.”

CHAPTER 12

Afghanistan, 10 miles north of Herat

They were speeding away in the car before the helicopter was even out of sight. Alex, Sam, and Eli all wore well worn Iranian Republican Guard uniforms and had perfect IDs, all courtesy of the Mossad Infiltration Division. Adira and Casey had on the dark robes of the abaya and had identification as government functionaries – roles appropriate to be in the company of IRG – on some sort of government sponsored mission.