This time though, she set her glass down, and I saw in her eyes the woman who'd become a reasonably proficient shooter and fighter in the few months of training she'd had. "Who could it be?"
"The men look like they could be Russian, but they could also be German," I said slowly, keeping my voice low. "If that's the case, then they most likely would be former Spetznatz. It's one of those open secrets in that part of Europe. The Russian government can't pay their commandos much, so a lot of them once they get their training and a tough reputation, they shop out their skills to those who can afford it. Most go to work for the Russian mob, although some go to the Germans, the Iranians, and the Chinese. About the only group they won't work directly for is ISIS or the various Muslim groups. They're fanatic Russian Orthodox Christians and hate Muslims."
Sophie blanched and looked at me. "Are they....?"
I nodded. "No restraints. They don't follow the rules everyone else plays by. It's how they're so effective. You know the rules I operated by? Well, they're nothing like that."
I didn't need to tell Sophie that in addition to their total lack of following the rules, they were truly some of the best trained killers in the world. I'd had years of training under various teachers who, while strict, were at least willing to care about my wellbeing. These guys trained under a Darwinian system. Those who weren't strong enough to keep up were either dropped or got themselves killed. It encouraged a certain kind of crazy in those who survived, and a total disregard for human life, including their own.
Tabby gulped and took a drink of her ice water. "What are you going to do?"
I thought about it for a second, then took a drink of my own water. "I need to draw them out. The one advantage I have over them is that they don't know the city the way I do. They're probably studying it as fast as they can, but there's still things that I know that they don't. I need to draw them to a place where I control the terrain advantage. The question is how to do it."
Sophie and Tabby fell silent as the three of us thought. I finished my lasagna and waited for our waiter to bring dessert, a panna cotta with olive oil ice cream. Finally, Sophie looked up at me. "What about a baited trap?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, curious. Sophie's eyes had taken on the look not only of the woman I'd trained, but the natural hunter I'd sensed in her even before she knew who I was. There is a deep well of protective strength in Sophie, a heightened sense of the natural maternal protective instinct that, when she tuned into it, made her not just a capable protector, but a dangerous stalker and hunter. During some of the training exercises I'd had her do in Croatia, she'd done better than I had the first time I went through them, that's how natural she is.
"Well, we know who they work for. What if we give their boss a reason to come to us?"
I thought about it for a second. "You mean give him a reason to think we're not who we say we are."
"Exactly. Maybe the Snowman or Miss White need to come back for a single performance."
I thought about it for a second. It was risky, but it was bold. "But how? The surgeries were done for a reason."
Sophie chuckled and puffed out her cheeks and tightened her neck, pulling her shoulders up. It was startling in that it obliterated almost all of the change in her facial structure the surgeons had done. Instead of the slightly narrower jawline and long, swan like neck of Sophie Warbird, the more compact and in some ways cuter profile of Sophie White sat before me. The nose was still different, though. I blinked, and Sophie relaxed her features with a laugh. "I noticed it a few days after the bandages came off. I can't exactly hold it for a long time, but a still shot with a wig should handle things, don't you think?"
I nodded. "Tabby, you think you can find a t-shirt from the Shamrock?"
"I have one already," Tabby replied, "it's at my place. Sophie left it there one time after an early shift when I convinced her to come out partying with me."
"Then we can work a plan."
After the dinner was over, Sophie and I drove back to Mount Zion. Workers had been there most of the day, and the improvement was noticeable. At least our bedroom area was complete, as well as our kitchen. The bathrooms needed work still, so we couldn't take a shower until they were finished. Since we had both conspicuously joined a gym nearby, a total waste of money since Mount Zion's main sanctuary was being refitted for that exact purpose, we could at least use that, and the chemical toilet for another day or two.
"I'm going to get changed for bed," Sophie said quietly as we came in. She started towards the closet area, but I reached out to take her arm.