Coming back to my room, I find Sharipov there, placing a laptop on the bed. “I was asked to give this to you,” he explains, handing me the computer.

“Excellent, thank you.” Taking the laptop from him with my right hand, I sit down on the bed. Or, more appropriately, collapse on the bed, my legs shaking from the strain of walking all over the hospital. Thankfully, Sharipov doesn’t see my ungainly maneuver, as he’s already heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, I go on the internet and download a program designed to conceal my online activities. Then I go to a special website and put in my code. That brings up a video chat window, and I put in yet another code there, connecting to a computer back at the compound.

Peter’s image appears first. “Finally, there you are,” he says, and I see the living room of my house in the background. “Nora is coming down.”

A moment later, Nora’s small face shows up on the screen. “Julian! Oh my God, I thought I would never see you again!” Her voice is filled with barely contained tears, and there are wet tracks on her cheeks. Her smile, however, radiates pure joy.

I grin at her, all my anger and physical discomfort forgotten in a sudden surge of happiness. “Hi baby, how are you?”

She gapes at me. “How am I? What kind of question is that? You’re the one who was just in a plane crash! How are you? Is that a cast on your arm?”

“It appears to be.” I lift my right shoulder in a brief shrug. “It’s my left arm, though, and I’m right-handed, so it’s not a big deal.”

“What about your head?”

“Oh, this?” I touch the thick bandage around my forehead. “I’m not sure, but since I’m walking and talking, I assume it’s something minor.”

She shakes her head, staring at me with disbelief, and my grin broadens. Nora probably thinks I’m trying to be all macho in front of her. My pet doesn’t realize that these kinds of injuries truly are minor for me; I’ve had worse from my father’s fists as a child.

“When are you coming home?” she asks, bringing her face closer to the camera. Her eyes look enormous this way, her long lashes spiky with residual wetness. “You are coming home now, right?”

“Yes, of course. I can’t exactly go after Al-Quadar like this.” I wave my right hand toward the cast. “The plane is already on its way to get me and Lucas, so I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

“I can’t wait,” she says softly, and my chest tightens at the raw emotion I see on her face. A feeling very much like tenderness winds through me, intensifying my longing for her until I ache with it.

“Nora—” I begin saying, only to be interrupted by a sharp crack outside. It’s followed by several more, a rapid-fire burst of noise that I recognize right away.