Chapter Twenty-One
Praha 7
Hal rode the hotel elevator with his trusted operative, Zakhar, and another hotel guest: a woman with curly dark hair and a red scarf. As she spoke briefly in English on her phone, her handbag slipped from her shoulder.
The elevator came to a stop, and Hal crouched to collect the bag and offer it to her. ‘Ma’am.’
She took it and, without a word, walked out onto her floor.
‘You’re welcome, Your Highness,’ he said.
Two more floors and they’d reached their destination: the General’s new room was to the right, at the end of the warmly lit hall. Zakhar walked at his side, until they reached the door and Hal put a hand on his shoulder.
‘It’s best that you don’t come in. The General is … selective with his company.’
Zakhar’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ‘He d
