People Who Should Know Better

By Natalie Smothers

In 1939, the world is on the brink of War and rumors of artifacts with supernatural powers abound.

After a lifetime of action an ex-spy named Alice Chmakova finds herself part of a team of archaeologists and adventurers for hire who travel the world in search of these artifacts to protect them from the men who would use them to rule.

But ghosts of the past are coming back to haunt her...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natalie Smothers
• Release date: Jun 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458021922

Natalie Smothers

I was introduced to the music of David Byrne at a young age, which probably answers most of your questions right away. This had a side effect of causing me to develop my own way of doing things, as well as a mind that’s still slightly off kilter. I mostly write to amuse myself, but it is my sincere hope that in doing so I amuse others as well. So far I seem to be doing a good job.Born in Ft. Worth, Texas, I went to school in San Antonio and got an expensive piece of paper that says I spent a lot of time scribbling furiously in notebooks about things that were not being taught. For one reason or another I have lived in a variety of places in Texas (including Austin, College Station, San Antonio and back home to Fort Worth), Colorado, Wisconsin and most recently Chicago, Illinois. It is my deepest wish to one day live there again.

Book preview

September 1925

Surat, India

Trying her best to keep from looking over her shoulder, Alice Chmakova walked as fast as she dared back to her office in the corner of the dilapidated building that was attached to the Laliberte Usine d’Aviation. Certain that no one was following her, she ran the last few feet and tossed the files she had been carrying onto her desk on her way past it. They hit the edge of her inbox and slid to the floor in a cascade of carbons, invoices and letterhead, but she barely noticed.

I’ve got to get out of here, she thought, looking around the small room. It might have looked to some people like she was panicking but Alice was taking in every aspect of the room, sorting and storing everything she saw in the hopes that some of it would be useful. I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t just run, though. If I do, they’ll know right away that something’s wrong and come looking for me. I need something else, something that’ll muddy the waters. A second sweep of the room looked as if it was going to be fruitless until her eye caught the files scattered on the floor and an idea popped into her head.

There was no time for hesitation. If she was going to do it, she’d have to do it right then, while the majority of the workers were either in the main factory or out to lunch. Alice cleared her desk with one sweep of her arm, then grabbed the handle of the lowest drawer on her desk and pulled it out, setting the files she needed on her chair before upending the drawer and spilling the rest of its contents onto the floor. Once that was done, she turned her attention to the slender top drawer, yanking it out roughly with both hands. Pens, correction tape and paperclips flew into her face and landed as far away as the windows.

Now for the big one. Alice moved to the filing cabinet and rifled through it to find the books and papers she needed to take with her before taking a deep breath and turning the entire filing cabinet over. It went down with a satisfying crash and she stood still for a moment, listening to see if anyone would come running. She was certain they wouldn’t. The only men that had still been in the building were the ones she had overheard talking about investigating a possible leak, and they were on their way to the factory proper. She hurried back to the chair where she had put her papers for the moment, picking up her messenger bag along the way. They had teased her for it before, asking what a bookkeeper could possibly have to carry back and forth to work each day, and Alice had laughed it off as expected. Now that she was stuffing invoices and memos into it, she doubted they’d be joining her. She was just slipping one of the ledgers in for good measure when a man she recognized as a factory supervisor came running in, his face flustered.

"Mon Dieu, what was that? He stopped abruptly when he saw Alice standing amidst the wreckage, her hands full of papers. What the hell are you doing? Not waiting for an answer, he turned back to the door. Monsieur Bernard! There’s---" The hole that appeared in the back of his head with a soft thwip cut him off neatly and he crumpled to the ground to reveal Alice holding her .38 with the silencer on at arm’s length.

Now why would you make me do something like that? Alice sighed and twisted the silencer off, then tucked it back into her bag. The gun she slipped into the waistband of her skirt, just over the small of her back. "I just hate doing that." The suit jacket she was wearing hid it perfectly, just as she hoped it would. Slinging the bag across her chest, she kicked the chair over irritably and sent it clattering across the floor. As an afterthought, she opened up her purse and dumped out its contents. The man who was laying on the floor bleeding had forced a sudden change in Alice’s plans. If one person was out there it stood to reason there might be others. And while she was fairly certain no one else had heard the crash, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t run into someone on the way out. She went to the window and looked out, trying to judge the distance from the second floor to the ground below. That’s not too terribly bad, she thought. If I don’t lock my knees it should only be a small impact. Looking back at the dead man, she sighed. I guess we’re going out together.

Alice stuffed the blotter from her desk under his head and grabbed the dead man’s ankles. He slid obediently after her, leaving very little blood trail, and Alice struggled to get him up and over the windowsill. Once she got him up, his weight finished the rest and he slipped out. There was a dull thud as he hit the ground and Alice looked back after tossing the blotter after him. The blood made it look like there had been a possibly fatal struggle, which would put them on quite a different trail altogether. With one more glance around the room, Alice threw her leg over the windowsill and crawled over, clutching the edge so she could dangle against the side of the building. With a deep breath, she let go.

The ground came up at her faster than she’d anticipated and the heel of her demure work shoe slid out from under her when it made contact with the ground, sending her down onto her ankle with a pain that turned her stomach. She fell to her hands and knees, biting her lip until she tasted blood to keep herself from vomiting or screaming. Knowing she couldn’t stay exposed, Alice forced herself to her feet and turned her attention to the dead man. Slowly, painfully, she dragged him and the blotter to the back of the dilapidated factory and down the steps to the opening of the incinerator. They weren’t planning on opening this factory for another six months or more, and even if they did he would probably be burned to ashes when they started it up again. Either way, she would be long gone. She closed the door as quietly as possible and limped back up the stairs. Once she was back in the sunlight, Alice checked to make sure she wasn’t being watched before hurrying off the premises as fast as her injured ankle could take her.

Whether it was from the adrenaline or the constant motion she wasn’t sure, but the longer Alice walked on her ankle the less it hurt. A dull throb still remained but that was something she could deal with. All I have to do is keep moving. Not a problem. She was able to breathe a little easier when she got to the marketplace and realized that her uneven gait wouldn’t be nearly as conspicuous among the beggars and old women. Still, she kept her pace up while her mind raced. Her first thought was that she had to get home and throw a few things into a suitcase but the memory of the conclusion of her mission in Germany stopped her in the middle of the sidewalk. Even the desire to pick up her embroidery, photos and a few more bits of memorabilia couldn’t drive the terror she had felt when she knew she was trapped out of her mind. The overwhelming feeling of being backed into a corner followed by the searing pain in her shoulder was not something she wanted to repeat, especially for a few such trivial things. No, she couldn’t risk going home. Her best bet was to go directly to the airport and find someone willing to take her back to America immediately. If she didn’t have enough in her bag she could always have more wired. The important thing was

George...

Alice stopped short on the sidewalk, causing several people behind her to bump into her back. "M-maaf karjo," she stammered, raising a hand to them as they walked around her, grumbling in Gujarati. Everything inside her suddenly felt cold. George. How could I have almost forgotten about George? She started walking again so as not to cause any other problems, her thoughts thrashing like a fish out of water. She couldn’t just leave without telling him. For one thing, he would be worried about her. Pulling a disappearing act without so much as a goodbye or an explanation wouldn’t be fair. If she really thought about it, it seemed downright cruel. Then again, he wouldn’t be coming over until seven or eight in the evening and it was only just after noon. She was sure she had done a pretty good job of covering her tracks, not to mention the fact that they didn’t know her flat was in the British district, but there was still the possibility that they might have seen through her plan and would be searching for her before nightfall. George would be working with Dr. Advik all day, so there was no way of contacting him and telling him otherwise. That’s right, there’s no way of contacting him. Maybe I could leave him a letter wedged in the door. I had always planned on telling him the truth about all this one day, maybe if he knows why I had to leave we could be together again somehow in the future. Alice had almost convinced herself that this was the right course of action until another thought slammed into her with the same force of her ankle against the ground.

They could be following her.

By going home she would be taking the chance that the French were following her at that exact moment, waiting to see where she lived so they could return later and kill her. If she left a letter for him, they could read it and know that she really had betrayed them. Even if she didn’t wait around for George it was dangerous for them to know where she lived. Who was to say they wouldn’t come back later and, finding George waiting outside her door, try to get the information they wanted out of him? Imagining George being hurt, being tortured, maybe even being killed because of her selfishness was the final straw. Though it hurt almost as much to think of him waiting alone outside her flat and finally giving up and going home, he would be alive. Even if it meant she could never see him again, she could at least do this much to keep him safe.

A man pulling a rickshaw blew past Alice fast enough to blow the strands of hair that had escaped her careful arrangement around her face and she stopped with one foot in the street. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t realized how far she had walked. It occurred to her that she also hadn’t been watching her back. No matter what she tried to tell herself now, she definitely couldn’t go back home. A second rickshaw, this one empty, came toward her and Alice flagged him down. It would be much quicker than limping several more miles to the airfield and the rickshaw drivers were known for taking their own bizarre shortcuts, the perfect thing for shaking a potential tail. "Aap kahan jaa rahi hain?" The driver gave her a gap-toothed smile and Alice forced herself to return it. This is my last chance, she thought. Do I take the chance and go home or leave now? Her stomach turned over violently and Alice closed her eyes. There is no choice. Not one that will end well.

The airport, she said quietly. Take me to the airport.

"Kyaa?" The man faltered as he gave her a confused look and Alice realized she had already started speaking English.

"Havaa ii adda," she repeated more clearly. The man nodded and the rickshaw shifted back and forth, then to the side as he began to run on the uneven street. Alice reached down and rubbed her ankle, which looked like it was beginning to swell. It had already turned a dark purple and her stomach turned again. She reached into her bag and pulled out a scarf that she kept stuffed into her hat, then wrapped it tightly around her ankle and tied it. That should hold it. The rickshaw continued to shift and jerk, and Alice relaxed back against the seat so that her head was below the sides of the cart. She didn’t feel like taking in the scenery anyway.

May 1939

New York City

As a rule, the CARPE offices in New York were furnished with top quality furniture, top grade liquor and top of their field agents. That day was no different as RJ Shade, Simon Helman, and Dr. George Blanc sat in one of the offices with their temporary superior, Professor Benjamin Clodmore.

After the stories I heard from Africa I can't imagine why Dr. Ruthven would want to spend more time in the field, he was saying. Before anyone could reply, a sharp, small knock on the door cut the conversation short. Ah. Perfect timing. Gentlemen, I would like to introduce your new associate.

CARPE, short for Classical Antiquities Research and Procurement Enterprises, was a private company that made its experts available for what basically amounted to treasure hunting expeditions. For a price, a potential client could have a team comprised of seasoned hunters, soldiers and scientific experts sent to retrieve an artifact as well as identify it, verify its authenticity and appraise it all at once. It was a dangerous business and the company was always recruiting new members in all areas, especially since they had recently lost two of their current team. When Clodmore opened the door, a petite figure dressed in a black leather jacket, black military grade boots and a pair of black men's pants strode into the room. She faced the men with a smile so bright and welcoming that every one of them felt an instant connection to her. Shade was the first one to snap out of the general trance, offering her a hand.

RJ Shade, he said with a smile. The woman clapped her hand into his and gripped it firmly enough to give him pause, then returned his smile.

Alice Chmakova.

Chmakova? Is that Russian? The woman that called herself Alice nodded, and he looked more closely at her. You don't have an accent.

No, she said, raising an eyebrow. I don't. Before he could say anything else, she had turned to the young man in the dashing hat.

Simon Helman, he said, extending a hand.

Nice to meet you. There was one other man in the room, and it just so happened that his was the last face she expected to see. George Blanc stood up from his place and came around the couch to greet her. Alice felt the smallest jolt of electricity between their palms as she shook his hand, holding it much more gently than she had those of the other men.

"Alice...Chmakona, was it?" The look on his face was somewhere between surprised and amused and she grinned up at him, hoping he wasn't going to hold this against her.

Chmakova, she corrected, holding onto his hand. George acted as if this was old news to him, but she felt his fingers tighten slightly around hers.

George Blanc, he replied. "Doctor George Blanc." They continued looking at each other for a moment as if they were sizing one another up, seeing each other clearly for the first time, and Alice was the one to break the handshake.

Good to meet you, she said with a knowing smile at him before addressing the group again. I look forward to working with all of you. There was a general murmur of assent that went through the room as she sat down in one of the leather armchairs and crossed her legs.

Excellent, excellent. Now that you've all met, I'd like to start off by congratulating Dr. Blanc on his wonderful work locating the Stone of Tongues in Cameroon, Clodmore said, nodding toward the doctor, whose face suddenly turned from bemused to blank. Alice, an expert at reading peoples' faces and body language, noticed it at once and leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair so she could rest her chin on her hand and keep her mouth half-hidden. It was the posture she often struck when she was trying harder to focus on another person than her own persona, though none of these men would know that. Well, maybe one of them, she thought absently. I heard the details from Dr. Ruthven, and I must say I was impressed in spite of the terrible losses your team suffered. That you yourself suffered, he added, his voice taking on a somber tone.

Yes, George said, his voice flat. Thank you.

What is this 'Stone of Tongues' you're talking about? Helman looked interested and George leaned back in his seat.

Supposedly it was the first stone laid in Babylon at the Tower of Babel, and supposedly it allows the bearer to speak any number of languages. Whether or not this is true I have no idea. I didn't stay around to watch them test it.

The Royal Geographic Society had nothing but praise for your efforts in Africa, Clodmore continued, as if this was going to make whatever truth it was dredging up from the depths of George's heart easier to take. The Stone of Tongues is an amazing find, a true relic of the past, and without the work of your team it would still be hidden in a hillside halfway across the world.

Thank you, George said again, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation. The room was quiet for a long moment, with no one but Alice looking at the doctor's face. She had seen that look before. Clodmore cleared his throat uncomfortably and tugged at the edge of his sleeve.

I was sorry to hear about Dr. Marsh, he said awkwardly. I only had the chance to meet her once. I had no idea you and she were, or, had been married. These words snapped Alice to attention, though she didn't betray it with more than a flick of her eyes.

Yes. Behind his glasses George's eyes were dark. Alice had seen that before as well, and felt his pain as acutely as if it were her own. Sylvia was--- he began, then stopped and searched for the words. It was a tumultuous time in both of our lives, and our marriage didn't last more than a few years. But she was still---well, it was quite unexpected. The room fell silent again and Professor Clodmore broke the tension by holding up a file folder, eager to get the meeting on track, but it wasn't to be just yet.

Wait, Shade said, looking at George. I apparently didn't get the briefing here. What happened in Africa?

"The job was nothing but trouble from the start, really. We had scarcely gotten off the plane when we drove off a bridge - actually, the bridge broke when we ended up on it - and we all fell into the river quite a ways below. Despite our best efforts, all of our efforts, we were unable to revive Miss Harm after she lost consciousness in the river. His eyes were fixed intently on the table that was in the center of the room and Alice looked quickly around at the other men who, apart from Shade, seemed to be studiously avoiding him. The rest was disastrous. We were drugged, poisoned by a local witch doctor, and it left us confused and scattered. Sylvia was in the middle of the camp alone, in the line of fire, protecting our client and she took several bullets. His voice faltered just slightly, just enough to pierce Alice's heart, and she found herself looking directly at him, as if she could give him a bit of her strength. By the time I was able to get us to safety, she was---she was already gone." Even Shade had nothing to say after this last revelation, but Alice couldn't let the silence stand.

I'm so sorry, Doctor, she said gently, bringing his head up. She gave him a smile much warmer than her first, wishing she was close enough to put a hand on his shoulder. She must have been an exceptional woman.

She was, he agreed, taking off his glasses for a moment. And thank you.

At the very least, we know their lives were not lost in vain, Professor Clodmore said, shaking his head. The knowledge we'll gain, that future generations can gain now is immeasurable. As we hope will be the case with our latest client. He held up the folder again and took out a paper. Professor Diego Loveless, a noted archaeologist in South America, phoned me this morning and asked if CARPE would be interested in some Muisca artifacts he's recently discovered in a town called Sogamosa, Colombia. Have any of you ever heard of a people called the Muisca?

Sure, Shade said, surprising everyone in the room. They were a group of natives in South America that were famous for being small - quite small - in stature.

They were a Pre-Columbian society, George said over him in a tone that suggested a perpetual sigh. "One of the many who believed that the sun gods chose their kings, which they called zipa." He continued to talk, but Alice's mind had already started to wander enough that she barely heard the rest of Clodmore's words.

Loveless didn't seem willing to be speak openly about his find over the telephone, but it sounded as if he thought some of them might be rather special and that others might be interested in his work there.

South America. Of course they would pick the one continent I’ve not been on. Alice was relatively sure that her knowledge of Italian and French would carry her through any negotiations she might end up a part of, so long as they didn't speak some strange local dialect. Then again, obscure local dialect would put them all on equal footing. Isn't that what being a team is all about?

---car to take you all to the airfield, Clodmore was saying, and Alice turned her attention back to him. I've already gathered the navigation charts you'll need to get to Bogotá and wired for the train tickets to the dig site. One of Loveless' representatives will meet you at the train station to bring you the rest of the way. You'll find our Tin Eagle fueled and waiting for you at the airport. Be careful with her, she's new. Everyone was standing up then, including Alice, and moving toward the door. Gentlemen, he said, then nodded to Alice. And Miss, I do hope you'll have a safe journey.

***

When driving to a private hangar to board a plane bound for another continent, the last thing one wants to see is a trio of men in mechanics' jumpsuits running away from said hangar. That, however, was precisely what Alice saw in the light cast by the moon over the airfield.

Hate to say this, gentlemen, but it looks like we've got company, she said evenly to her companions.

Just what we need, muttered Helman, pulling the car up to the hangar. The beam of the headlights caught the figures of three men in business suits standing around the Tin Eagle, one of CARPE's private planes. And it looks like they're doing something to our plane. Out of the corner of her eye, Alice caught a glimpse of a fourth man hiding behind the hangar door. If she could sneak up on him she could avoid the ambush he was no doubt planning.

Then the men were getting out of the car and Shade was walking up to the hangar as if he owned the place with George following him, and she caught a snippet of their conversation. They’re talking about tailors? Have they lost their minds? She got out of the car, taking their actions as a cue, but crouched behind the back of it so she could see what was going on from a safe distance. Almost as soon as they reached the hangar the men in the business suits seemed to change, turning from nicely dressed gentlemen to bloodthirsty ninjas in moments. Suddenly their simple need to board a plane and fly to Colombia had turned into an all out brawl.

The blood was pounding in her ears - this was what she had been missing. The feeling of action, the intensity of the moment, every muscle ready to spring. But it was taking too long to analyze the situation, too much time to make a move. The others were already in the hangar and she was still behind the car trying to decide which way to go. Too much time behind the counter at the sewing store had made her slow and uncertain and she had to find a way to break out of it. Then, as if someone had heard her frustration, the decision was made for her when she heard the engine of the plane sputter to life. It wasn't moving forward yet but it was only a matter of time, and the car was sitting squarely in the path of its wheels. Finding her strength at last, Alice pushed herself away from the ground and ran for the hangar, compensating for the crunch of gravel and slight slip of the soles of her boots on the ground as she darted toward the team.

Alice had never worked with a team before so she wasn’t exactly sure what she should do. The closest she had ever come was in Italy, but that had been very different. Her eyes darted from person to person, trying to decide where she was needed the most. At that moment, it was between Shade and George but the doctor actually seemed to be holding his own and the man grappling with Shade had his back to her. She ran up behind him and gave him a forearm chop across the back of his neck. Her opponent stumbled forward slightly as much in surprise as from the blow, giving Shade a chance to get out of his way while he was stunned. His disorientation didn't last long and he rounded on Alice, falling back into a ready stance as he smirked and beckoned her forward. Not wasting a minute, she lunged forward, pulled her arm back and drove her fist into his face.

This shot did a bit more damage than her first but he was still on his feet and recovered quickly, using the side step he'd been forced to take to adjust his stance and whip his leg around in a half-wild spinning hook kick. Rather than block it, Alice dropped into a crouch until his leg was just above her, intending to spring up and grab it so she could throw him backward. Unfortunately, her body was still coming out of its hibernation and she missed it by just a moment. Shade, having recovered while she was fighting, stepped in to help her and in less than a minute it was over.

Not giving herself the moment her body was begging for to catch her breath, Alice looked back at George, who was still engaged in the same back and forth with the man he'd been fighting with for some time. She came from behind again, one of her most effective strategies, and knocked the assailant away from George. He stepped backward gratefully as she threw a punch at the man and led him a little further away so the doctor could recover.

She was able to back step away from the first punch but the second caught her across the cheek, sending a rain of stars exploding across her eyes. Through the glittering curtain she could see that he thought he had done much more damage than he had and played it the way he would expect, staggering back and dropping to one knee. When he stepped forward as if to take her, Alice sprang up and landed an uppercut hard enough to drop her opponent to the ground. His eyes slid out of focus and he fell onto his side, unconscious.

Damn, she muttered, rubbing her cheek where his fist had made contact. Her reflexes weren't what they had been and it was making her madder the longer she thought about it. She looked back at George, who seemed to have regained both his composure and the majority of his strength, and thought for just a moment that she might have impressed him. Before either of them could speak, a set of flashing red lights in the distance caught her eye and she turned to confirm what the cold knot of dread in her stomach was suggesting they were. Judging from their height from the ground, the number of lights and the distant sound of sirens that were faintly rising, she knew she was right. Ah, gentlemen? I don't want to alarm anyone but we're about to be joined by several of New York's finest.

Do any of us have permits to carry weapons in America? Shade looked from face to face in the hangar and saw the same look of realization on each one. We've gotta ditch the guns, fast! He hurried to each member of the team, grabbing their firearms, and was surprised only slightly by the shoulder holster Alice dropped into his hands, complete with .38, silencer, and an extra magazine. From the look on his face, she figured she'd best tell him about the VP .25 and her knife later. Those she could easily get past any authorities. She had before. Where am I supposed to put these things?

What about a toolbox?

Good idea! He rushed toward the corner of the hangar where a large metal tool chest was sitting, while George and Helman started trying to get their stories straight, to be joined by Shade as soon as the weapons were stowed.

We were driving up and they were...no…

The plane was already out of the hangar and---

---were trying to prevent the other plane from...

---what happened to those other guys in the jumpsuits?

They're gonna be here any second, we've got to get our stories straight!

What do you think we're trying to---

Gentlemen, Alice said, raising her voice to be heard above what seemed to have degraded into panicked babbling. How about you just let me handle this? There was no dissension in the ranks, and she got the distinct feeling that they were all more than happy to let someone else figure out a way to get them out of whatever they had walked into this time.

The police cars had reached the periphery of the hangar now and Alice ran her fingers through her hair, whipped off her leather jacket so that the thin low-necked gray blouse she wore beneath it displayed her curves much more prominently, then strutted out of the hangar toward the officers with a mischievous smile.

"Why, hello officers! Thank heavens you got here in time!"

***

Once the police had taken away their would-be plane robbers, the CARPE team loaded their luggage and boarded the plane amidst a stream of idle chatter.

I don't mean to hit a sore spot, Shade said to Helman, but with what happened on the last assignment, maybe it's not a good idea to even have women on our team. First JW, then Dr. Marsh--- He stopped suddenly when he saw Alice walk up behind him, as if she'd caught him at something, then continued. Sorry, Miss Chmakova, but you have to admit it's a valid point.

I do hope you'll find that I'm a different type of woman than these other two you're talking about, she said, hoping George wasn't listening. The last thing she wanted to do was talk badly about his late ex-wife, especially since it seemed that he was still in quite a bit of pain over her death. I've made something of a career out of dodging bullets. In addition, I've been shot, poisoned, stabbed and still somehow managed to make it to thirty-nine. With some luck I hope I'll make it to forty.

Dodging bullets? What exactly was it you did before you joined us? Helman looked at her closely and Alice smirked.

I was in the family business, she said. Mother worked in intelligence for the British and Father was with the Russians. The two men stared blankly at her and she sighed. They were spies. Father was working for the Mensheviks, which is what prompted his eventual retirement, and Mother worked with the lovely folks who eventually formed the SIS. She lends them her help from time to time now as well.

Fascinating, Helman said. So you're a spy, too? For the British?

For the Americans. And I'm retired, Alice said with a shrug. Or perhaps I should say semi-retired at this point. In any case, I didn't work for any government agency you've heard of. She punctuated this with a tiny wink and nodded toward one of the wicker chairs lined up against the side of the plane. I'm just going to get my things settled. She moved away from Helman and Shade, taking off her jacket so she could adjust her shoulder holster slightly.

Alice had moved on to checking to make sure her backup gun and knife were where they belonged when she saw George sifting through his medical bag. Snapping her pocket shut, she walked up behind him and put a hand on his back.

So I see we're a doctor now, are we?

George turned and gave her a smile, the first genuine one she'd seen on him so far, then grabbed her chin. "And I see we're a Chmakova now, aren't we?" Alice couldn't help laughing and the other team members turned to look at him just as she grabbed both of his hands for a moment and twined her fingers through his. It was just a few seconds, not even half a minute before he pulled them away, but it felt good.

What was that?

Well, it seems I've met Alice before. Only she was calling herself Alice Carroll back then. He gave her a look that could have been scolding and she grinned in return. Shade nodded thoughtfully.

"Carroll as in Alice in Wonderland Carroll?"

Very good, Alice said, impressed. One of my favorite books. You'd be surprised just how many people do not get the reference.

They chatted for a few minutes more before settling into their seats, and Alice listened to them only vaguely as she took out a book on legends of Colombia she had borrowed from Professor Clodmore. It was unsettling to her that her first mission with the team was to a country she hadn't studied and whose language she could not fluently speak, and she was determined to read as much on it as possible. Also in her bag were books on the cultures and customs of the indigenous peoples and a few books on Spanish dialects. She would be damned if she went into this country blindly.

***