Fatal Exchange

by Cindy M. Hogan

  They turned to each other and Ace continued, talking as if I wasn’t even there. “And Siron did say she wanted this done tonight.”

  Their eyes found me again.

  A grin spread across my face. Smiles filled the room, and Halluis even chuckled.

  Tiny flutters filled my chest. They were taking a great risk on me, and right after I’d totally botched the mission. I looked at my feet. “I think I can. I have to. And thanks, guys. Seriously. I won’t let you down.” My eyes flicked back up, and they all moved to pat me on the back and give encouraging words.

  “We all mess up some times.”

  “No one’s perfect.”

  “It wasn’t totally your fault.”

  “I’d have probably done the same thing you did.”

  I didn’t agree. It was my fault. And Siron had been right. Had I only stayed with Dufor, I could have protected him, and he could have made a new drive. It had been foolish to go after the drive and leave him unprotected. A terrible thought entered my mind. What if I had stayed with Dufor and hadn’t been able to stop the murder? Which outcome would have been worse?

  The mission plans made it to Siron’s desk in under forty-five minutes.

  Chapter 3

  Recorded satellite imaging of the building over the last week showed the guards doing somewhat random walkthroughs at quarter-hour intervals. Unfortunately, start times varied and they began their rounds at one of three times: a quarter past, half past, or a quarter to. It was smart to have such quasi-random security sweeps. I’d just have to be aware of the times the guards could come and get out fast. The real restraint was the laser security in the ducting. Halluis had been unable to find a way to override the system for longer than twenty minutes.

  I donned a black cat suit compliments of Ace, enjoying the soft, elastic feel of the fabric on my skin and especially on my feet. The grip on the footies would help me climb down the two vertical portions of ducting I needed to get through.

  “The suit will act as the jammer we need to hijack the cameras and put in our looped feed,” Ace explained. I could tell by the slightly higher pitch to his voice that the excitement of me using the suit for the first time was making Ace a bit giddy.

  “Can’t wait to see your baby in action, eh, Ace? If this works, I’ll have to take you to a café, and we can drink eight-euro sodas together.”

  “I’m going to have to take you up on that. Maybe then the mystery of it will dissipate, and you won’t feel the need to mock the cafés of Paris.”

  “It’s highway robbery, seriously.”

  “It’s the ambience you’re paying for, my dear. Not a meager soda.” Halluis spoke in his native French language, and it sounded beautiful.

  I crouched on the roof just to the side of the vent I was supposed to enter, waiting for word that the coast was clear. “Ah, I get it. You mean—”

  “No heat signatures on any level above the third floor,” Ace said, interrupting us over the com. “Lasers down. Mark the time.” His voice was clear and confident; he had switched into mission mode.

  I put the countdown on my watch. “Going in.” I lowered myself into the ventilation system, using my grippy footies, just as we’d planned. I’d be cut off from all communication until I was in Dufor’s office, which shouldn’t take me more than five minutes.

  I hated ventilation ducting. I’d had to crawl through a couple of different systems while in D.C. plus another in South Dakota, because I was the smallest and most likely to fit. It’s not like there was training for that. I had to find my happy place and pretend I was in an open field of flowers the entire time I was in them or terror would crush the breath out of me from the inside out.

  It was good they didn’t have sound alarms, because I banged my way through the venting as fast as I could. Speed was more important than stealth right now, and I bonked my head three times trying to navigate one particularly tricky turn. Since there were no heat signatures of others within three floors of me, no one would hear. The patrols weren’t scheduled to walk through the building for at least another fifteen minutes.

  Once above Dufor’s office, I unscrewed the vent cover and dropped to his desk using a rope coated in the same fabric I had on. Had Ace’s new jamming technology not worked, the fabric would have at least made both the rope and me invisible to the cameras.

  “I’m in.” I leaned back and took several deep breaths.

  “Right on time. Ten minutes and counting.” Rosabella’s sure voice encouraged me.

  “Camera’s masked. Feel free to move about the room in that awesome suit that just earned me an eight-euro soda in a Paris café.”

  It did bother me somewhat that they could see everything I did. For most people, it would be a comfort, but I didn’t like the sensation of being watched. I tried to focus on the idea that they might see something I missed. I’d find Dufor’s laptop or possibly a drive with a copy of the information he’d planned on giving to us as fast as I could and get the heck out.

  Dufor’s desk was clear of any clutter, and everything seemed to be in its proper place. In and out boxes, two books with bookends, and a small, shallow bowl with a lighter in it. No laptop. I pulled open the drawers and discovered the same complete and total order in the interior. Everything had its spot. Not a smidgen of dust was present anywhere.

  Replicas of three Matisse paintings hung on the walls along with a thermostat and a few shelves with statues and other pieces of art from various countries. Dufor obviously appreciated art and seemed to collect various pieces as he traveled. I carefully, but quickly, searched every inch of wall space and the objects on or near it. Nothing.

  “He didn’t seem like a Matisse kind of guy,” Rosabella said, obviously watching my progress along with the others. Getting into the building had been so easy, but nothing was ever this easy. No wonder I’d found nothing.

  “Two heat signatures heading your way.” Ace’s voice was soft in the com, almost like he thought if he spoke louder the people approaching would overhear. I checked under the rug and two soft chairs across from the desk before voices filtered into the office from the hall. My watch told me it was one of the three possible times for the regular security sweep. I flipped off the flashlight. I had to hold still until they passed, wasting precious time.

  Once the guards were past me, I flipped the flashlight back on and resumed the search. Not a single dust bunny floated in the corners of the room or under the chairs or desk. Dufor had been meticulous. I moved back to the desk. Not a piece of paper out of place. Seeing his things and the care he took to keep his space clean and organized made me see him even more clearly and mourn his loss. He’d been a good man. He’d risked everything in an effort to help his country, and I had to love him for that.

  I looked in the trash, expecting to find nothing, but instead noticed a black residue on the bottom and sides of the can. I ran a gloved finger over it and then smelled it.

  “Uh, C’est dégoutant, ça!” Halluis said. He was grossed out by stuff like that. It didn’t bother me if I was on a mission.

  I took some tape from Dufor’s drawer and got a sample of the black stuff. I looked back at the desk, taking note of the lighter in the shallow dish. I examined it closer and thought I found traces of that same black residue on its plastic carapace. I snagged another piece of tape for a sample and then put both samples into an interior pocket of my suit. “The pockets were a nice touch, Ace…”

  “I thought you might find a use for them,” he replied.

  “Think Dufor is a pyro?” I asked into the air, glancing again at the Matisses. They were the only things that spoke “uncontrolled” to me. No one replied, and I scanned the room again. “Can you think of anything that I’ve missed?” I hoped my team could see something.

  Noes rang out in my earpiece.

  “Please tell me I didn’t get in the ducts for nothing.”

  Silence greeted me.

  “In two minutes you’ll need to get back in them. Sorry.” Ro
sabella truly sounded apologetic.

  Feeling a bit depressed by my inability to find what we needed, I sat in Dufor’s chair and leaned back, knowing I needed to hurry.

  If I were Dufor, would I record anything about the criminals? And if I did, where would I record it? I opened the thin drawer at my waist and pulled out a pen, channeling my inner Dufor. I opened the right side drawer and pulled out the top pad of paper. As I lifted it, my flashlight revealed indentations, lines on the paper, even though the paper had no ink or lead on it. My heart pounded in anticipation. I glanced at the ash tray and back to the pad of paper.

  “Uh, we have bodies coming your way. They just exited the elevator.” Ace sounded agitated.

  I threw the pad of paper onto the desk and clicked off the flashlight. My spidey senses woke up and started bugging me. This was not a regular security check. I held my breath.

  They stopped outside the door, and I was in motion in a flash. “Scramming,” I said in a breathy whisper as I stood on the chair.

  I turned from the cameras, unzipped the bodysuit, pressed the notepad against my chest and re-zipped the bodysuit as I stepped onto the desk in one fluid motion. I began pulling myself up the rope just as the green indicator light next to the door lit up. They’d swiped the keycard. I gripped the rope more tightly and took two hard pulls. It would take me one more to climb into the vent. Good thing they had double lock entry into all the rooms in the building. Not only did you need to swipe a card, you also had to use a physical key. Even with that, I doubted I’d make it out.

  Ace’s voice rang over the com, “Hurry, girl. That suit won’t hide you from real people eyes.”

  I flipped my leg over the ledge of the vent opening and yanked myself inside with a quiet grunt. I was now cut off from my team. I gathered up the rope in a flash just as two people entered the room and switched on the light. There was no chance to put the cover on the vent. I kept my breathing shallow, not allowing my lungs to get the massive amounts of air they needed at the moment. Instead, I peered through the hole to see who had come into the room.

  The first was dressed in the clothes that identified him as a Sécurité Un guard. His powerful muscles pushed on the uniform, threatening to burst through. The other was also large, but in jeans and a T-shirt, his face unshaven. I pressed myself against the metal and focused on breathing shallow breaths, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn’t look up. I was about to slide away when their words froze me to the spot.

  “…wasn’t on him?” a deep male voice said. I imagined it must have been the man with the scruff. Was he talking about the drive?

  “I’m sure,” a voice that sounded much younger said. It must have been the guard, though the voices didn’t match either man’s physique. “The boy said nothing was on Dufor.”

  “And there had been no contact with anyone before your man got to him?”

  “He followed him on the train, but there was nothing, no one. We’re sure no exchange was made before we disposed of him.”

  So, his company had put a hit out on him. They knew he was going to betray them.

  “And you’re sure the medical examiner found nothing on him either?” They had an in with the medical examiner, too?

  I only had four minutes. I heard shuffling noises as they moved about the room looking for something.

  “Yes. And this guy wasn’t the type to put the drive anywhere not sterile. I mean look at his office. Does this look like the office of a guy who’d put a drive in his underwear?”

  I expected to hear a chuckle, but nothing. They definitely knew about the drive. What would have happened had I stayed on the train? Could I even have saved Dufor? I hadn’t sensed any danger. Had I become soft during all those months doing deskwork for Siron? Three and a half minutes.

  “It has to be here then.”

  “Tear this place apart until you find it.”

  And the guy did. He threw the fake Matisses to the ground. He pulled the desk drawers out and dropped all the contents to the floor as he went through them. As he lifted the rug, a flash from my watch warned me that in two minutes the lasers would go live again, and I would be a sitting duck. Not to mention the two men would inevitably look up and notice the giant hole in the ceiling.

  I didn’t bother putting the cover on the vent. I didn’t have the time. I moved as quickly and quietly as I could through the ducts, keeping my body off the venting, only allowing my elbows, thighs and toes to contact the metal in a flurry of motion. Something crashed in the room below me and I took the chance to push myself swiftly through the hard section of ducting, hoping the noise below covered my banging.

  Just as I turned to climb up the last shaft, the alarms blared. I didn’t hesitate. I rushed to the top of the vent and pulled myself out. Red lights twirled on the roof of the building, and screeching sounded all around me. I pushed on my com as I ran across the roof.

  “West side extraction route. Heading for adjacent building.” I would have to be super-fast not to get caught. I spoke up as I reached the edge of the roof. “I hope you’re there when I get there.”

  I dug my fingers into the bricked exterior wall and lowered myself a few feet, using the grippy footies of the suit to help anchor me as I moved to the side and down three feet, under a foot-wide outcropping that housed something rumbling inside. I attached the same rope I’d used to lower myself into Dufor’s office to some lag bolts that attached the machine to the wall. Ignoring the pain in my fingertips, I gripped the jagged bricks and wedged my toes in between them. Now to lower myself down.

  The blaring sirens stopped, and an eerie silence settled over the area. I kept my body close to the wall, and while I moved quickly, I tried not to make any sounds. I had chosen the west side because it had no lights, which worked in my favor, considering I was in all black.

  Two shafts of light blazed down the exterior wall, passing by me again and again. I kept my head down, counting on the black suit to help me blend with the dark red brick while I stayed in the shadows of the outcroppings, hoping my movements wouldn’t catch their eye. A beam flitted over me. I froze and held my breath, but the light left me as soon as it had found me.

  Three floors down, I waited for the lights to move far away from me. “Jumping to the neighboring roof,” I said in the com.

  “It’s not far now.” Rosabella’s voice was calm and even. No wonder Division kept her on as a team leader. She had a calming influence on an out-of-control situation.

  I knew my landing wouldn’t be soundless, but if I could make it to the other roof, the guards wouldn’t have a chance at catching me without a rope. Shooting me was another story. I would have to be down the fire escape ladder on the far north side of the building before they noticed me, or I’d be a blazing target running across the roof. I needed sort of a distraction. I glanced at the karabiner attached to my waist, and a plan formed in my mind.

  A fifteen foot gap separated the building I was hanging on from the one next door. I pushed off hard, away from the building I was anchored to and over the narrow alley to the other building. I was glad the other building was only two stories high so that if I fell, I’d have a chance at surviving. It took me three swings to get enough power to fly out over that roof, but I eventually did.

  As I landed with a loud thud, I released the karabiner from my waist, secured the rope around my flashlight, and swung it hard and fast back toward the building I’d just descended. The flashlight hit a window, shattering it. Just as I’d hoped, my pursuers’ attention flew to the sound, and a spray of bullets pounded the area around the window.

  I was already halfway across the roof when a barrage of bullets followed me. My distraction hadn’t been distracting enough. I zigged and zagged, and hoped I’d calculated the position of the fire-escape ladder correctly. I had the schematics of the building memorized, but I wasn’t always able to use the dimensions of something to my benefit. Two feet to freedom, bullets rained down around me, sending rocks and debris flying all around. I ha
d to act now or I would get shot—and this suit was not bulletproof.

  I turned my body toward my attackers and jumped out feet first, off the roof, hoping I’d land on the escape ladder. I missed by a good six inches. I was in a freefall. The hard stones below would break my legs at the very least. In a last ditch effort to save myself, I swung my feet toward the rough stucco wall of the building and pushed upward in hopes of grabbing hold of the ladder. I missed and pushed again. My fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the bottom rung of the ladder.

  The ladder descended with a loud series of clicks and rattles. About halfway down, I was able to put a second hand on one of the rungs. I said a quick prayer of thanks in my mind as the ladder continued to roar downward. The ladder yanked to a stop about ten feet from the ground, and I cried out in pain as my shoulders strained with the effort of holding on.

  I let go, then tucked and rolled as I hit the hard asphalt, my shoulder aching and my feet stinging as I landed. Something sticky rubbed up against my cheek, but I had no time to wipe it away. I rolled into a standing position and hightailed it out of the alley only to be met by a white van. The side door slid open, and two hands pulled me inside.

  Chapter 4

  Ace slammed on the gas as someone slid the door shut. It was Markay, a swing operative who jumped from mission to mission to fill any needs that might arise. I took a second to wipe the goo from my face with my sleeve and reached out to wipe the nastiness onto Halluis’s hand before laughing out, my breaths hard and fast.

  “Man, you guys really made me work for that one. Remind me next time to ask for helicopter extraction.” I laughed even louder.

  “You are the queen of cutting it close.” Rosabella said. It surprised me a bit to hear Markay snort since he always seemed so darn serious. But it didn’t last. Halluis passed me some wet wipes and wiped away the goo I’d smeared on him.