THE MOSCOW SCENE

Taber & Silka:  "Today we wanted to share a special excerpt from our story, Capital D. We hope you like it? 

"We should leave before they start asking questions," she finally managed.
"Way ahead of you baby girl, grab your stuff. I have a taxi waiting to take us to my jet."
She stood up, slipped on a warm dress in the bathroom and packed as quickly as possible. Once they had climbed into the taxi, they sat in silence all the way to the airport. Fucking fabulous! she pondered. The company thought she had betrayed them, she had people who wanted her dead, a good man had been killed and Taber had officially become a co-worker. Silka could not help feeling utterly depressed.  Since discovering he also worked for the USAID, despite all the chemistry, the sparks and the electricity they had, they could never be more than friends because of company policy. She wanted him like a desert needed water after last night. Hopeless was not a word she had thought possible in her vocabulary, until that day.
At the airport, Silka decided the best option was to go to see her old boss in Washington DC.

---

Taber wanted to hear nothing of it.
"I am going with or without you. I cannot run for the rest of my life. I need to sort this mess out and clear my name," Silka said forcefully.
"Fine! Where you go, I go. If anything happens to you, there is no way I am explaining it to your mother." He shook his head to bring home that statement.
“Roger that, sergeant major,’” she mock saluted him and turned to walk.  "Let’s go, bodyguard." She teased looking back at him over her shoulder.
He playfully scowled at her first, but then bit his lip as he smiled.
They had to wait for a while in his company jet, because the pilot wasn’t ready as they had arrived too soon.  The jet had seats along the side with tables, rotating swivel chairs, and sleeper couches at the back, all covered in soft cream leather.
“What are you hoping to achieve by going to your old boss in DC?” Taber asked, as they sat opposite each other in swivel chairs.  
“I worked for him until my contract expired recently and I started a new contract with another division. He might be able to shed some light on why the company thinks I have gone all ape shit.” She smiled. “If nothing else, he could at least help me to clear my name, because he knows about every one of my missions and will know exactly where this might have stemmed from,” she continued.

“I am sure we’ll have this sorted out quickly,” he reassured her.

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