Midnight Sun (68 page)

“
Mr.
Farrah.
You
should
be
less
paranoid
and
more
cautious.
”

“
Wha
…
?
”
Farrah
started.
He
gritted
his
teeth
and
squeezed
his
lips
into
a
snarl
. Recognizing the voice
he
lowered
the
pistol.

“
Really,
”
said
the
figure
emerging
from
the
shadowy
space,
“
one
never
knows
who
one
’
s
friends
are
,
does
one.
”

Farrah
slid
the
Sig
back
into
a
fitted
holster
set
in
a
wide,
flesh
-
colored
elastic
belt
wrapped
about
his
midsection.
The
setup
held
the
small,
flat
weapon
firm
against
his
body
,
rendering
it
invisible
beneath
most
clothing.

“
You
very
nearly
ceased
to
be
my
or
anyone
’
s
friend.
”

Kharzai
stepped
into
the
blazing
daylight,
shielding
his
eyes
with
his
hand.
The dog from the attempted robbery trotted beside him
,
tail wagging
, t
he
n
sat on his haunches beside Kharzai, sweeping a shallow cloud of dust up behind itself with every motion of its tail. It opened its mouth and let its tongue droop a
s
the bright
,
hot sun almost instantly heated its furry body.

“
Who
would
ever
have
thought
that
Alaska
could
possibly
get
this
hot
?
”
Kharzai wip
ed
tiny beads of sweat from his forehead
.
“
It
feels
almost
like
Sevastopol.
”

Farrah
squinted
up at the blue sky
,
then dropped his eyes
toward
the
tall
mountains
that seemed to be immediately behind the house. The house itself actually stood partway up the base of the mountain range, the peaks of which were indeed only a few miles to the east. From the second story of the house
,
one could see the northern limits of the Pacific Ocean lazily reflecting the summer sun.

“
It
looks
more
like
Yalta,
” he said

“
I
didn
’
t
say
looks
,
”
Kharzai
replied.
“
I
said
feels
.
”

The
two
walked
into
the
garage.
The
dog
followed
them,
staying
close
to
his
new
friend
Kharzai.
Farrah
stopped
at
the
door
leading
toward
the
house
.
“
That
beast
is
not
coming
inside.
”

“Ah, c'mon
,
Steven
.
I've gotten rather attached to the little guy
.
” Kharzai leaned down and scratched the dog behind the ears. “Haven't I
,
Deano
?
”

“Deano?” Farrah
said.  “W
hat on earth prompted that name?”

“It was on his tag,” Kharzai
replied
, “and he seems to answer to it
,
so Deano must be his name.”

“Named or not,” Farrah said, “he's not allowed in the house. I don't want dog hair on everything.”

“Whatever you say,” Kharzai said resignedly
.
“
Y
ou're the boss on this one.”

He walked Deano to the space in front of the garage and picked up a gnarled dry stick
one end of which was pocked with teeth marks suggesting
the dog had probably dragged
it
out of the woods to chew on. Deano jump
ed
and sp
u
n excitedly upon seeing the stick in his new master's hand.

“Ready
,
boy? Ready?” Kharzai
taunted
. Deano went wild with enthusiastic
yipping
. Kharzai leaned back, stretch
ed
his arm
,
and flung the stick like a missile launched from a trebuchet. It flew long and high
,
and Deano fired off after it with such speed that he must
have
thought his life depended upon him returning with that stick. Kharzai watched
the dog
sprint across the dusty driveway, kicking spouts of dust beneath his paws with every bounding step. He smiled, pleasure seeping through his expression. The momentary peace was abruptly split apart by the sound of Farrah's voice.

“Are you coming in or what?”

“Huh?  Oh, yes, yes
,
of course.”

He turned and crossed into the garage.
Farrah
hit
the
remote
control
button
by the door to the house and the motor on the ceiling lowered the large bay door with a whirring hum.  T
hey
moved inside and crossed
through
the
breezeway
and
into
the
house
itself.

“
What
about
it
feels
like
Sevastopol?
” Farrah
asked
.

The moment of happiness with Deano had evaporated, and Kharzai was back in character.

“
The
fact
that
you
nearly
blew
the
whole
operation
by
getting
exposed,
”
he
said.

Kharzai
stopped
in
the
middle
of
the
stone
-
tiled
mudroom
entry
and
gave
Farrah
an
accusing
stare.
Farrah
spun
back
toward
him,
his
face
scrunched
at
the
accusation
and
his
lips
tightened
into
thin
-
stretched
lines.