“Well, even the best can make mistakes on occasion. Not many can outwit the apparent best in MI6,” Natasha answers, studying the other woman. “You’re being searched for, make no mistake.”
“I am?”, she repeated, hoping that the dread that she suddenly felt was not apparent in her face. “Is any use asking who’s searching for me or you’re not one to tell?”, she inquired, curiosity as big as her fear.
“Yes,” Natasha confirms, reading the slight fear as only an expert in the area can. “Come with me, and I’ll tell you who. We can fend off interest.” She stands, smoothing down her own dress as she offers her hand. “No one will question us like this.”
