"Another teacher, then," Joan decides with a grateful nod of her head. "Maybe by spring I'll manage to do something Anatoly doesn't anticipate ten moves ahead."

Problematically, even though he knows she's CIA, he's not going to anticipate this move. How could he? He has no idea what she's capable of.

She glances around the beach, expression tightening somewhat, the first hints of suspicion creeping into her face. "Where did you say we were going again?"