"Come on." He reached for her hand. "This is going to be the most fun we've had all night." He looked up at the gray-uniformed Savoy doorman approaching. "Trust me."
The other car, a black Mercedes, had stopped just behind them, and now its doors swung out on both sides. The first to emerge were two surly men in heavy, bulging suits; next came an expensively dressed, dark-haired woman; and the last was a bearded man who had to be helped. He seemed weak and shaky.
Vance waved to him and beckoned him forward. "Alex, what a surprise. Glad you brought your friends. I was starting to worry we might miss each other this time."
"Michael." His voice faltered as he walked past the others, limping. "We must talk. Now."
"Great idea. Let's ask everybody in for a drink."
The woman was staring, cold as ice, while the two men flanked her on either side, waiting. Vance smiled and greeted her.
"Vera, talk about luck. And I'll bet you were worried we wouldn't manage to meet up in London. Small world."
The woman was trying to ignore him as she addressed Eva. "You have in your possession classified Soviet materials."
"If I do, that's your problem." She glared back.
"No, Ms. Borodin." The woman moved forward, carrying a leather purse. "It is your problem."