Of course, they ended up at the beach.
Cal lay on the cold pebbles and dug his elbows in. He savored the damp, salty wind as it swept over him and took with it the heat and stink of the nightclub and the back-alley fight. Waves crashed against the pebble shore and tempted him to sleep. Movement and noise caught his attention and when he snapped open his eyes, Frank was sitting and offered a bottle of water from a small grocery store they'd passed on the way.
Cal sat up and took a long drink.
"We're going to keep running into those guys, aren't we?" he asked.
"Well, it's not that big of a city."
"But we kicked ass this time, didn't we?" said Cal. A memory from the alley fight came back to him suddenly. "When did you learn karate?"
"I don't know karate," Frank laughed. "Not one bit."
Cal broke into laughter.
"It just seemed like—," Frank began.
"—like a good idea at the time," Cal finished, wiping away tears.
"Thank God for those two, though," Frank said and nodded at Nikolas and Dorian holding hands and strolling along the water's edge. "When that knife came out, I thought I'd have my guts spilled right there."
Cal doubted it.
"They didn't train you in the intelligence service to fight off an armed attacker?"
"Sure, they did!" Frank said and then lowered his voice, conspiratorially. "Do you want to know the secret to facing an assailant with a knife? This is top secret shit, now, and I'm not sure if I should tell you. Even if you are my best friend."
Cal leaned in close.
Frank whispered. "The secret is to run the fuck away!"
Cal collapsed backward in laughter, his back crunching into the cold pebbles. Frank remained seated, his folded frame silhouetted against moonlit clouds above.
"Frank? When you saw Hoodie and Goggles in the alley, you said still alive. You saw them yesterday, didn't you? When you got all banged up."
When Frank didn't answer, Cal sat up and nudged his shoulder.
"Come on. No more secrets, right?"
Frank blew out a sigh and then spilled the truth:
A stealthy pursuit through the narrow roads of Vieux Nice.
A set of lockpicks.
The mysterious black case, a silver pistol, and an interrogation.
Then bad actors bursting in with their own pistols drawn before an escape and bumbling descent out of a window.
"I fucked up!" Frank finished. "It was right there, Cal."
"What was?"
"Your watch."
The words hit harder than Hoodie's punches. Cal tried to speak, then stopped himself, trying to put everything together. Frank was crazy, but this?
Finally, Cal said, "Did you follow Zebra just to get my watch back?"
Frank shrugged his shoulders and said, "And I wanted to know who the Fat Man is. Still do. It was a dual mission."
"Jesus, Frank! You could have been killed!"
"Whatever! I owe you that watch back!" Frank said. "But I grabbed that damned case, instead, and—even then—I ended up dropping it out the window and broke the fucking thing! The shit inside won't even turn on now."
And just like that, he was back on mission. Cal couldn't blame him. A spook was going to spook.
"What's in the case?" Cal asked, "And why did Zebra have it?"
"Something military."
"A gun?"
"An electronic jammer of some kind. I broke it, remember?"
This was not what Cal expected. A sniper rifle? Sure. But this?
"Sounds like something from the movies," Cal said.
"Not anymore."
"What are they doing with it?"
"Selling it to terrorists, I think," Frank said as a matter of fact.
Frank's bluntness was like a slap to the face.
"Holy shit! Are you for real?" Cal asked.
Frank nodded soberly.
"This is some high-level shit we're caught up in," said Cal. Then a thought occurred. "You need to tell Lil."
Frank groaned.
"No fucking way," he said. "Absolutely not. The last thing I want to do is go begging my ex-wife for help, especially when I'm not supposed to be looking into this kind of stuff. I'm retired, remember?"
"You could have fooled me."
"Let's just leave our exes out of this," Frank said. "Don't forget your girlfriend is caught up in this, too."
Then it was Cal's turn to groan.
Eeva.
He didn't want to believe she was working with Marat Solonik, but the proof was right there on his phone.
"It doesn't make sense," he said. "Her brother . . ."
"What?"
"Lilith called the Estonians and confirmed Eeva's brother died in a helicopter crash. Remember? You said it was a convenient detail for a cover. Well, according to Eeva, the Russians shot him down."
"You believe her?"
"I did," Cal said. "I don't know anymore. Why else would she have told me that? Everything is a mess now. Frank, we need clarity. We need Lilith."
"Fuck that. I can figure this out."
"Frank . . . You're still in love with her, aren't you?"
Frank looked like he was slapped.
"You're crazy."
"I don't think I am. And for being quote-unquote "best friends" you've never opened up about your break-up. You were married just as long as Moll' and me, and then—*bam—*after Paris it was over. What the hell, man?"
Frank scrunched his face and stayed silent.
"Did you cheat on her? Did she cheat on you? Was it money?"
Frank clenched his lips, but wiggled his head no.
"Come on, man," Cal pleaded. "You only ever told me that you "grew apart" and I respected your stoicism at the time—but goddamn it—we're too deep in the shit now to leave things unsaid. What happened?"
Frank sprang to his feet and pulled his shirt over his head. "I drank a lot tonight and I still didn't drink enough for this conversation."
"Frank, come on! Frank! What are you doing?"
A pair of loafers sailed into the pebble beach and then Frank kicked out of his slacks. He stood with his back to Cal, a pale, wiry figure wearing nothing but dark boxer briefs. Frank marched towards the waves, the pebbles crunching beneath his feet.
"I'm going swimming," he called over his shoulder, his voice almost lost against the sound of the waves.
Cal was on his feet and following until an incoming wave washed over his shoes. "Damn it, Frank. It's freezing and you can't swim!"
It was crazy that Frank was an intelligence officer with a globe-hopping career spanning thirty years and he'd never been forced through a water survival course. Or maybe he had. Maybe he'd refused or conned his way out of it. Frank had told him years ago that he was a spook, not a SEAL, but really Frank was more like a rock that would sink straight to the bottom of anything deeper than a wineglass, even as Frank found himself at the bottom of plenty of those.
And he didn't seem to care. Frank stomped through incoming waves until he was chest deep and then he plunged forward into an awkward stroke. Cal wasn't sure if Frank even knew how to swim. He glanced down the shoreline for support, but Dorian and Nikolas were down the beach with their backs turned.
"Frank, come on!" Cal called from the shore.
A wave loomed over Frank and then curled over his head and pulled him under. Cal's breath caught in his chest as he scanned the surface for any sign of Frank.
Nothing.
Another wave.
Then a mop of curly, silver hair caught the moonlight and Frank surfaced and sucked in gasping breath—just in time for another wave to dunk him under again.
"FRANK!"
The wave passed and Frank surfaced again, his arms flailing and thrashing.
"Goddamn it," Cal cursed and then yelled, "Hold on, I'm coming!"
Cal kicked off his new shoes, stripped off as much clothing as he could, and then stormed into the Mediterranean. If he hadn't sobered up already, the cold shocked him awake, but Cal paid it little mind. He tucked his head under the surface and powered through the waves. Frank was in his arms in a matter of seconds.
"I got you, bud! I got you!" Cal said through spits of seawater and salt-burned eyes. He wrapped one arm around Frank before kicking backwards towards the shore. Frank didn't go easy, coughing and thrashing his arms and legs.
"Calm down," Cal yelled, "I got you!"
A wave crashed over them, sending both beneath the surface. Cal lost his grip and darkness separated them. It was impossible to know which direction was up as the current rolled him over. Cal took a guess and kicked his feet, immediately touching the seafloor. Cal launched upwards and was greeted by warm night air upon his face.
Frank flailed helplessly nearby, sputtering.
"You drunk motherfucker, stand up!"
Cal didn't hide the patronizing tone in his voice.
A moment later Frank stood still, submerged up to his shoulders. A wave knocked into him but passed without harm.
"I can't see," Frank said, his eyes squeezed closed.
"You're a child, Frank. Come on. Grab my shoulders."
Cal led them to shore where Frank immediately collapsed onto pebbles and broke into a laugh. Nikolas and Dorian were there, now, kneeling and fussing over Frank.
"Oh, my god, is he okay?" one of them said.
"I almost died!" Frank sputtered and coughed.
"No, you didn't," Cal said, but he was laughing now, too.
He wanted to be pissed, but seeing Frank humbled took the fire out of it. Cal gathered his discarded clothing as the other men helped Frank to his feet. Frank walked over in his underwear, blinking the salt from his eyes, and wrapped his arms around Cal in a tight hug.
"Thank you, man."
Frank was shivering. Cal patted his back and then peeled away.
"You're making a habit of me pulling you from the water and don't you say we'll always have Paris," he said, the memory still fresh. It was the last time all four of them were together.
"I won't."
"And don't make it a third time. Just stay away from water, Frank."
"I promise."
Nikolas and Dorian helped Frank pull his clothes back on over his wet skin.
Cal handed him his remaining loafer.
"And now you have to call Lilith about this shit we're in," he said. "I saved your ass, again, so now you owe me to get this shit settled."
"She'll be pissed."
"Do it. Or I'll tell her you almost drowned in five feet of water. Again."
"You're a traitor, you know that?" Frank said, defeated. Then a smile peeked through his shame. "Fine. But you have to call Eeva and figure out what's going on with her. What's she really up to."
Cal groaned.
"Fine. Deal?"
"Deal," Frank confirmed. "We're two spooks in a pod, now."
Cal wasn't sure how he felt about that.
Nikolas (or maybe Dorian) chimed in.
"If you two are done deal making, can we go? We come to Nice every year for a wild time, but you have us in knife fights and near drownings! You are too crazy for us!"
The other Swiss said, "But it was fun, though!"
Cal couldn't help smiling. This felt right. Everything and all of it.
"Come on, Butch," he said to Frank and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Let's get home before we're the first assholes to freeze to death on the French Riviera."
"Lead the way, Sundance. I'll follow you anywhere."
Cal laughed and pulled him close.
"Then you better get ready to jump."