## Nine in the morning.

Tanya rubbed her thumb across the tiny face of her digital watch, as though that might somehow make the time less offensive.

It didn’t.

The outdoor café was beginning to wake around her.

Small metal tables stood beneath faded awnings. Tea glasses caught the morning light in little amber flashes. Somewhere behind the counter, cups knocked together and a spoon struck porcelain in a quick, impatient rhythm. The smell of coffee drifted through the open doorway, mixed with warm bread, cigarette smoke, and the faint salt of the Bosphorus carried between the buildings.

Tanya had been sitting alone long enough for the waiter to stop wondering whether somebody was joining her.

Almost an hour.

Across from her, occupying the chair that should have belonged to K’hraal, sat a small local cat.

Green eyes.

White paws.

The calm confidence of someone who had decided the table was hers.

Tanya stared at her.

The cat stared back.

Tanya narrowed her eyes dramatically.

“What?”

The cat blinked.

“You never seen a pretty woman before?”

_Meow...._

“I already told you. I don’t have food.”

The cat’s gaze dropped meaningfully toward Tanya’s bag.

Tanya followed it.

Then looked back at her.

“No.”

_Meooow_....

“I’m waiting for my date.”

The cat’s ears tilted forward.

Tanya sighed, then rolled her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

K’hraal had completed his original objective twenty-three minutes earlier.

The alley behind the café had offered privacy, loose soil, and a respectable collection of scents requiring immediate investigation.

Business concluded.

Perimeter checked.

Then—

Her.

She appeared on top of a low stone wall warmed by the morning sun.

Slim.

Gray-brown coat.

White throat.

A tail with a slight hook at the end.

K’hraal stopped.

The other cat stopped.

They regarded each other across approximately two meters of Istanbul.

Her ears shifted.

His tail rose slightly. He air-meowed.

She stepped down from the wall.

K’hraal forgot about Tanya.

Not completely.

Just enough.

The stranger circled once.

K’hraal followed.

She disappeared beneath a parked Vespa.

K’hraal lowered himself and peered underneath.

Two mismatched eyes stared back at him — blue on the left, green on the right, both bright in the shade beneath the scooter.

_Air-meow._

She slipped out the other side.

He followed.

There were walls to climb.

Drainpipes to smell.

A discarded fish wrapper that demanded professional inspection.

Another cat appeared and gave the lady the customary ass-scent greeting.

His attention then shifted to K’hraal, who was sitting patiently on the asphalt just a couple of feet away. The latter's jet-black tactical harness had apparently caught his attention.

He gave out a subdued growl and ran off toward a nearby patch of brush.

The gray-brown female brushed past K’hraal’s shoulder.

That required several minutes of additional diplomacy.

Time became irrelevant.

Tanya checked her watch again.

“Unbelievable.” She shook her head gently.

The green-eyed cat across from her licked one paw.

Tanya leaned closer.

“He said he needed to take care of something.”

The cat continued washing her face.

“Personal business.”

A pause.

“He’s a cat.”

The cat looked at her.

Tanya sat back. “Cats don’t take this long to poop.”

_Meow._

“Exactly.”

Tanya lifted her coffee. It had gone cold, but she drank it anyway. “You know what the worst part is?”

The cat waited.

“I have his tuna.”

One ear twitched.

Tanya slowly looked down at her bag.

Then at the cat.

“No.”

_Meow._

“It's operational leverage.”

K’hraal suddenly stopped. Something had changed. Not in the alley. In him.

A sensation.

A missing obligation.

A woman.

A table.

A bag.

Tuna. His head snapped around.

The gray-brown cat watched him.

K’hraal looked toward the mouth of the alley. Then back at her.

She stepped closer.

K’hraal hesitated. This was unfortunate, because she smelled interesting. But somewhere nearby was another female, considerably larger. Armed, and rather impatient. And in possession of his breakfast. He turned.

The gray-brown cat gave a rather seductive yowl behind him.

He stopped and looked back.

She sat down and curled her tail around her paws.

K’hraal stared for another long second. Then ran.

Tanya saw him appear at the far end of the pavement.

“There he is. His Highness finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

The green-eyed cat looked over.

K’hraal trotted toward the café with a forced casualness that would have been much more convincing if he hadn’t been almost an hour late.

Tanya folded her arms.

K’hraal slowed.

His ears went slightly sideways.

“Oh, no. Don’t you start.”

He approached the table.

_Chirp._

“I was about to leave, you know.”

K’hraal looked at her.

“And don't think I wouldn't have left you here. You can spend the rest of your life homeless and begging for scraps on the streets of Çengelköy for all I care. I don’t care if there was nobody there to hold your hand. You deserve to be left alone.”

_Mewl._

“You’re a cat. Cats don’t take that long to poop.”

K’hraal glanced toward the alley.

Tanya followed his eyes.

Something gray-brown moved behind the leg of a parked scooter.

Tanya went very still.

Then looked at K’hraal.

K’hraal looked at the pavement.

“Oh.”

His ears lowered.

“Ohhh.”

Tanya folded her arms.

“You weren’t pooping.”

K’hraal remained intensely interested in a crack between two paving stones.

“You were with _her_.”

He looked up.

Tanya put a hand to her chest in exaggerated offense.

“You two-timer.”

_Mewl_ again.

“I sit here for nearly an hour, defending your tuna from this one—”

She pointed at the green-eyed calico on the chair.

“—and meanwhile you’re off on some extracurricular flirting behind my back?”

“Meow,” said the calico.

Tanya pointed at her too.

“Don’t encourage him.”

K’hraal’s mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Tanya narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, now you have nothing to say.”

A tiny breath escaped him.

Tanya fought the smile trying to break through.

“Shameless.”

The local cat stood on the chair and stared at K’hraal.

Tanya gestured toward her.

“And while you were out there having your little romance, _she’s_ been asking me for food for nearly an hour.”

“Meow,” the calico confirmed.

“See?”

K’hraal looked at the green-eyed calico.

The cat looked back at K’hraal.

Tanya gathered her things from the table: car keys, her phone, and a small paperback copy of _The Art of War_.

“Whatever. You deal with her. I’m leaving.”

K’hraal’s head snapped up.

Tanya slung the strap of her bag over one shoulder.

“Next time we leave for a mission, you take care of all your personal…”

She glanced toward the alley.

“…things at the safe house.”

K’hraal stared.

“Or I swear I’m recommending you for reassignment.”

More staring.

Tanya took two steps away.

Stopped.

Turned back.

K’hraal was still sitting beside the table.

His mouth opened.

For a moment, it looked as though a meow would come out.

Nothing did.

Barely even a breath.

Tanya pressed her lips together.

“No.”

K’hraal opened his mouth again.

Almost.

“That is not going to work on me.”

He stared at her.

Tanya lasted perhaps three seconds.

Her mouth betrayed her.

“Come on, Romeo.”

K’hraal’s ears rose.

Tanya started walking, then she glanced back toward the alley. The gray-brown cat had emerged from behind the scooter and was sitting beneath the awning, watching him leave.

Tanya looked down at K’hraal, a slow grin formed on her lips. “Now I know how it feels to be the other woman.”

She laughed.

K’hraal stared up at her.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You started this.”

He trotted beside her. Three steps later, he stopped and looked back. The gray-brown cat was still watching.

Tanya kept walking. Without turning around, she called, “I still have the tuna.”

K’hraal immediately ran after her.