Fatal Exchange

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Fatal Exchange Page 15

by Cindy M. Hogan


  “I’m going to make this very simple for you, Eva. We know you took the drive, there is no use denying it. I will admit it took us longer than it should have—that was a clever ruse you pulled, passing the drive to your accomplice the way you did. You appeared to be the victim of a theft, rather than a thief yourself. It was quite the distraction, as I’m sure you had planned.” He squatted down to look me in the face, and smiled, satisfied.

  “Of course, we did eventually figure you out. From there, it did not take much to inform our network of guards that we were looking for you. When your face popped up again at the Louvre, we were on your trail. But then—oh then! You turned out to be just so much more interesting than we could have imagined. You changed your face, not once, but twice! And who would have thought a simple pickpocket would travel with a bodyguard? It’s all so very interesting.”

  Still crouching and staring eerily at me, he reached to his belt and unsheathed his knife, a wicked, curved weapon with a jagged edge. He pressed it to his smiling lips for a moment, then began slowly tapping it on the bars of my cell. “Now, I’m going to leave you here for a moment—no use talking to you when you won’t be able to feel my gentle persuasion. While I’m gone, I’d like you to think—and think hard—about how much you’d like to help me. When I return, I think we’ll have just the loveliest conversation. Don’t you?” He tilted his head and sighed happily, then sheathed his knife, stood, and turned to walk away.

  The shudder I’d been suppressing swept over my body. Revulsion swirled in my stomach, and I fought hard to keep from heaving. I couldn’t stop to think about the ludicrous things he’d said. I had to get out of there. I took three stilling breaths, and I was once again in control. I flexed my muscles, ensuring each one was back to working order. They felt a little sluggish, but I knew I could work through that. I had to act fast. I needed his keys, which meant I needed to shoot him as close to my cell as possible.

  I stood up and moved toward the prison-like bars, Adolphe’s gun in my hand, hanging by my side. I began to lift the gun to take aim outside the metal bars to shoot. But my eye caught sight of Summer across the narrow hallway, hands gripping the bars of her own cell.

  My eyes rounded in shock, and I groaned inwardly. That’s what he’d meant by bodyguard. They’d seen Summer shadowing me and assumed she was protecting me. They must have nabbed her first—how long had it been before they’d grabbed me?

  She moved only her eyes in a way that told me to look up. I followed where her eyes pointed. Just down the hallway were cameras, one trained on each cell. Judging by the fact that she hadn’t just told me they were there, I assumed they had audio feeds as well as visual.

  Quickly, I checked the gun to make sure it was still hidden behind my leg. I could hear a door shut above us and bolts slide into place. Each cell was made up of three cement walls and a wall of metal bars that doubled as a door. Summer sat down and leaned against the cement wall of her cell that faced away from the cameras.

  I sighed and looked away, moving to the wall in my cell that hid me from the cameras, too. I should have taken the shot. It was most likely our only chance to escape. At some point Adolphe would notice that his gun was missing and would come for it. We would lose our chance at surprise. I had Summer to thank for that missed opportunity. Who cared if there were cameras? We’d have been out of there before anyone could have come. She tapped on the wall. I looked at her. She was blinking, but not looking at me. I opened the Sig Sauer P938 to see how many rounds I had. Summer tapped harder. I swung my head in her direction, and she gave me a bug-eyed look before turning her head, blinking again.

  I scowled. Seven rounds. I caressed the gun. It felt good in my hands. Adolphe definitely knew his guns. I heard Summer’s insistent tapping again and jerked my head, ready to spout off at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. She’d assumed the same position as before and was blinking away. That’s when it hit me. She was blinking a Morse code message. At the same time, she spoke. “I’m sorry, boss.”

  “You can apologize when we’re out of here,” I said, playing along, speaking French in Eva’s Portuguese accent.

  “You should just tell them where the drive is,” she said. “I’d tell them if I knew.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes at her. Did she think that would stop them from torturing her? She was still blinking the Morse message to me, so I focused on figuring it out while also keeping up the conversation for the benefit of the guards.

  “I don’t know anything about any drive, and I wouldn’t tell them if I did,” I lied. Why had she admitted to knowing anything about any drive?

  “Please, just get this over with, and maybe they’ll let us go.”

  Meanwhile, Summer continued her coded message. Smart. Too smart for the Summer I used to know. I slid the gun into my waistband and pulled my shirt over it. This wall of my cell was too far to accurately see what she was trying to relay, so I moved to the wall that exposed me completely to the cameras. Staring out of the cell like I was watching the door to the prison area, I read the Morse code Summer blinked.

  Two guys. Poison. Hole in ceiling.

  I forced myself not to look up and find the hole right then.

  Killed two. Danger. No way out. Dead.

  I ran my fingers over the steel that made up the bars to my cell. Realization hit me. She hadn’t made me miss the opportunity to take my captor down, she had saved me. Had I shot Adolphe, his partner, Cardwell, who was most surely watching the feed, would likely have released the poisonous gas and paralyzed both of us, blocking our escape. They would have taken the gun from me, and we would truly have been dead. I moved into position to talk to her. She seemed to read what I was doing and moved so she could see me. I couldn’t let her give up.

  Escape. Come together?

  She didn’t move, but slowly blinked that they had only come in once together and that was when they killed the two men.

  She started to fake cry.

  “Don’t cry. It will be ok, you’ll see. I’ll tell them you had nothing to do with it. Maybe they’ll let you go.”

  They should be back soon. I nodded toward her. Be ready.

  Panic played across her face. I guess she realized that if they couldn’t get me to tell them where the drive was, they’d try to use her against me. It must not have been a very appealing idea to her.

  I looked at her. Really looked at her. I couldn’t see any signs of physical punishment.

  Hurt you? You okay? I blinked.

  Fine. She rubbed her left arm.

  They had hurt her. I would have to make them pay. I looked up at the ceiling and saw the hole that Summer had been talking about. It was near the far wall of the cell, which worked to my advantage. The cameras most likely wouldn’t be able to see me. I had to get that thing plugged up. I took off one of my shoes and then a sock. I blinked out a plea for Summer to do something at the bars to distract anyone looking at the camera feeds just in case there was another camera that could see something. She took hold of the bars and started pulling and moaning. I wondered if she’d done that earlier.

  I moved to the back corner of the cell and took a step-step-leap and reached for the hole. I missed. I tried again. Another miss. On the third try, the sock stuck in the hole. I jumped again and pushed it in further. That would give us a few extra, precious seconds. I slid my shoe back on. I took hold of the bars and screamed for them to let me out while Summer removed her own sock and plugged the pipe in her cell. She was taller than I was and was able to get the sock in the hole on her first try. She gave me a smug look. Even in grave danger, she had to screw with me.

  Immediately after she got the sock in there, I heard the latch lift on the door to the prison from the garage. I repositioned the gun, pretending to scratch my back. This was it. I glanced at Summer to let her know it was on.

  I heard footfalls coming toward me. “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about. That kid wasn’t my accomplice, he really stole my bag. It’s him you want to find.�
� I had both hands on the bars and pushed my face between them.

  “It’s a nice try,” Adolphe said, the six-inch serrated knife in his bulky hand. “But we know you’re the mastermind of this little gang. Just tell us what you did with the drive, and all this will go away.”

  I stepped back, jerking my hands behind me. One hand cradled the handle of the gun.

  “Come on,” I spoke with a thick Portuguese accent. “You’ve got it all wrong. I have no idea where that drive is.” At least that much was true.

  “Eva, this is your last chance. I want us to play nice. I think we could get along very well, you and I.” He flicked his tongue out at me.

  I couldn’t help but gag.

  He laughed out loud, sharp and awful. “All right, if you want to play it that way. I suppose I’ll just have to come in there and be a little more encouraging.” He started to move toward my cell. I tensed, but didn’t pull out the gun just yet. I needed him to open my cell first. He stopped short. “Of course, you do seem to be a bit of a hero type. You’d put up quite the fight, wouldn’t you? Yes, I can tell that about you.” He took a step back. “I think I’ll start with your friend instead. Once you see what happens to her, I think you’ll be much more willing to chat with me.”

  Summer shifted to the back of her cell.

  He tilted his head to the side and then raised his eyebrows. He looked toward Summer and then back to me. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He had to come into my cell.

  I’d never forgive myself if he hurt Summer. Josh’s square face flashed through my mind. He’d died because of me. Because of what I’d seen. I couldn’t be quasi-responsible for Summer’s death, too. Summer had been right. I did put others in jeopardy. I had been such a fool. I had to save Summer.

  I had to keep reminding myself that Summer was a trained agent and was sure to have driven them mad when they took her. They were probably ruing the day they chose to kidnap her. Such thoughts were the only way to soothe myself and not fall into a pit of despair. I focused on the task at hand. I had to get him to come in my cell.

  Adolphe turned, about to take a step toward her, and this loud voice seemed to speak to me in my head, “Get the keys.”

  I didn’t hesitate, just lunged forward, sliding my hand expertly through the bars and, in my best pickpocket fashion, I relieved him of the keys that were in his back pocket. My hand brushed his cotton button-up shirt as he shifted right toward Summer’s cell. He spun back to me.

  I did two things at once, faster than I’d thought possible. I palmed the keys into my back pocket and screamed, “No!” then moved my body to make it look like I’d just flung myself at the bars.

  He reached for my right hand. I flung it open before pulling it back. It had to register that my hand was empty. I did the same with my left hand. The whole thing deceived him into re-thinking what he thought he’d felt. His eyes told him there was no way I had touched him.

  He glanced at his side.

  I now had two options for escape.

  He narrowed his eyes at me and then pressed the com in his ear and spoke. “Anything I need to be aware of?”

  I almost pulled the gun out, but the timing didn’t feel right. Hopefully his partner had been anticipating him getting to Summer and was focused on her cell.

  Adolphe peered at me. “Did you just take something from me?” His voice sounded almost hurt. His partner had seen me do something. Adolphe moved his hand toward his pocket. Like my hands knew what to do before my brain told them, one grabbed the keys and one grabbed the gun. I crouched quickly and slid the keys across the floor to Summer, who snatched them up and immediately shoved them into the keyhole. At the same time, I whipped the gun out and shot Adolphe in the chest. He sank to his knees as Summer kicked him from behind, sending his face into the cold cement floor with a thud. I heard a hiss and looked up to see a hazy gas leaking out around the sock I’d shoved into the ceiling. I covered my mouth and nose with my shirt and moved as far from the spout as possible.

  Two seconds later, Summer had my cell open, and we were fleeing toward the door. I calmed my thudding heart and reached out with my senses. Cardwell was not far. I could hear the slight echo of feet hitting stairs in the house. We ran up the stairs to the garage, and I motioned for Summer to go to the left of the car while I ran up three more steps that led to the house and pressed myself into the wall next to the door.

  I wanted Cardwell to rush into the garage, but he didn’t. Instead I heard a click and an almost silent whoosh. Summer poked up from her spot, eyes wide. I jerked my head up and immediately closed my mouth and covered my face with my arm. Summer did too. I looked around for a garage door button, but couldn’t see one. Summer hopped into the car, shutting the door behind her, and frantically searched for something. She grimaced and then pulled her shirt off, grabbed a water bottle from a cup holder and doused her shirt, bringing it up to her mouth.

  I didn’t dare open the door to the car and allow more poison to sink in. My eyes burned, and I shook my head, trying to clear it. I blinked hard several times before spotting the red emergency release pull hanging above the car.

  I tried to leap down the three stairs but stumbled down them instead, my hands barely preventing me from slamming my head into the car. I pulled myself up using the car handle. I blinked several times.

  Summer stared at me, mouth covered with her wet shirt. I pointed up and then slid down the side of the car, my muscles rejecting my brain’s call to move. I twisted as my body hit the garage floor. I could hear Summer opening her door, then clambering on top of the car, the metal clanging under the pressure. The next thing I knew, Summer was dragging me out into the fresh air. She threw me to the ground a few feet away and headed back into the garage. I heard gunshots and wished I could curl up and hide, but my body wouldn’t respond. The sound of squealing tires and then a door opening and shutting hit my ears.

  Summer lifted me into the car, screaming out in pain as she did. She even took the time to buckle me in, then threw herself over me, into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the driveway. A part of me wanted to laugh, seeing her drive all crazy without a shirt on. The other half wanted to grab her into a hug and tell her how grateful I was for her. Of course, I couldn’t do either. She rolled the windows down, and I tried to breathe deeply. We cruised a good mile away before she pulled off the road and got out of the car. What was she doing?

  Not a minute later, she was carrying me to another car and buckling me in. She growled as she moved. She threw my go bag at my feet. The kidnappers must have left it in their car when they took me to the basement. My respect for her at the moment was huge. This wasn’t the Summer I’d left behind in Belgium, just as I was not the girl I’d been. Again, she rolled the windows down, trying to get the poison to clear from my body. I wasn’t sure if that’s all it would take. She made it to the back entrance to her apartment in no time, and dashed out of the car without a word. She was only gone for forty-five seconds before she climbed back in with a go bag. She must have had it stashed somewhere.

  She pulled out a phone and with the press of a button, she was in contact with Division over speaker phone. “This is Agent Barnes, requesting immediate extraction with medical assistance.” She pulled a long-sleeved T-shirt over her head.

  “Extraction six minutes at PN.”

  PN was Pont Neuf. Could we make it there that quickly? A sharp pain zinged through my big toe and had I been able, I would have yelled out with joy. My breathing seemed too shallow, and my lungs felt full of water. Hopefully, I hadn’t inhaled enough poison to keep me down much longer. Despite my seat belt, I was yanked side to side and forward and back as Summer raced through the streets of Paris like death itself was chasing her. The moment we pulled to the extraction point, a white van screeched up beside us. Summer unhooked my seatbelt, and someone pulled me out of the door.

  My head spun as he carried me to the van and slid me inside. Summer disappeared and returned with the two go bags. The w
hole extraction took thirty seconds. An agent I’d met only a few times—Hamil, my memory never let me down—put an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth and strapped it to my head. Why was he here? Where was my team? Jeremy and Halluis were supposed to have been my backup—where were they? They should be here. Something wasn’t right.

  Pain, sharp and relentless, started in my toes and fingers. It burst through my arms and legs to my core. With sudden intensity, my heart started to slam into my ribs and my lungs expanded. I sucked in a violent breath that propelled me to sitting position. I screamed out, and the agent put his hands on my shoulders and gently laid me back. I wrenched the mask off my face and sucked in several deep, long breaths.

  “Just relax, Agent Hadden. Just relax.” He handed me a bottle of yellowish liquid. “Drink that. It will help.”

  “No time for that, Hamil.” I tried to stand, but he pulled me down.

  “You aren’t going anywhere. Drink that.”

  I sucked the drink down hoping that would get him off my back. My stomach roiled. “Where’s my team?” I barked, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste.

  The agent looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

  Then I wretched. Over and over. Hamil shoved a bucket toward me the second I started gagging and only a little bit hit the van floor. Once the desire to throw up subsided, I leaned back on the van wall and breathed deep. I was about to yell at Hamil for making me drink something that made me sicker than I was originally, but then I realized I felt pretty good. Way better than I had when I’d climbed into the van.

 

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