Fatal Exchange

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “Thanks,” I said, wiping my lips with my sleeve.

  “Don’t mention it.” His lips were pressed together in a thin white line and his cheeks flushed. He looked at Summer. “You’re going to have to go to Medical when we get to Division. That cut is pretty bad and I think you may have a broken arm.”

  What? Summer had been hurt badly? She had a broken arm? No wonder she’d been grunting and crying out while moving me. I couldn’t focus on that. Hamil was avoiding me. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

  He shook his head sharply.

  “Hamil,” I growled, my voice both menacing and desperate at the same time.

  He pursed his lips again, then met my eyes. “Your team went after you. There was a big crash. They got taken. They didn’t make it.”

  Chapter 15

  I gaped at him in horror. “What?”

  Hamil looked miserable. “We were all listening to the audio feed through Agent McGinnis’s phone. We heard everything. They got intercepted and taken somewhere, then they were shot.”

  “No,” I whispered. I wanted to scream, but my body had gone limp—I was powerless.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Where are they?” I swallowed hard. “What did Siron do with the bodies?” My ragged, rasping breaths strained my lungs. My heartbeat crashed in my ears, making it hard to concentrate on the people around me. And yet, it seemed everything was louder, faster, slower, and softer than it ever had been. I needed to move, but I was frozen to the spot. I forced deep breaths into my lungs. Move. Get going. Find Jeremy. My mind cleared, and my heart slowed. I realized that this threat was merely an echo of my own. I closed my eyes. A burning focus settled over me. I had to find him.

  He shook his head. “They’ve been disavowed. Their bodies won’t be recovered.” Hamil laid me back down, and I didn’t fight him. My mind refused to work—I could not function in a world where my team was dead. Where Jeremy was dead.

  We pulled into one of the hidden entrances to Division. I knew that hours of debriefing lay ahead of me, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. I needed to talk to Ace. I needed answers.

  Hamil tried to help me up, but I pushed him firmly aside.

  “I’m fine. I can walk now. You don’t have to baby me.”

  He shrugged and left the van with the others. “If I were you, I’d go to Medical and get checked out.” Not even. Whatever had been in that drink had seemed to pull all the poison right out of me. I climbed out of the van last, leaving a gap between myself and the other agents, pulling my go bag over my shoulder. My mind churned, trying to formulate a plan. I refused to believe Jeremy and Halluis were dead. Not until I saw them myself.

  I peeled off from the group and said, “I’ll meet you guys up there. I need to visit the bathroom.” I really just needed some time to digest the information.

  Hamil’s eyebrows knit together, but he let me go. I guessed he wasn’t under orders to babysit me. Siron probably thought I was incapacitated. I rushed to the bathroom, making sure to keep my stride capable and strong, so Hamil wouldn’t feel the need to worry and wait for me. Or worse, come after me. Once in the bathroom, I took the moment to wash my face and arms, placing my forehead on the mirror and pounding my fists to the sides of my head. “You can’t be dead. You can’t be dead.” I spoke the words to no one. Then drank thirstily from the faucet.

  When I dragged myself into the conference room, Rosabella was there to comfort me. I sobbed in her arms until I heard someone else enter the room. Siron. Immediately, I turned to her. “They can’t be dead. I have to see them for myself.”

  “I assure you, they are gone.”

  “Then I’ll go retrieve the bodies. Just tell me where they are. Let me make this right.”

  “No. I’m sorry.” Siron left the room.

  “Rosabella, you can’t leave me hanging. I know you have access to the recordings. Let me listen to them and form my own conclusions.”

  “Not now, Christy. Let’s focus on the drive and then we can get them.”

  “Come on. You adore these guys as much as I do. They could be alive. If they are alive, we have to save them.”

  “I get it. But, what about Siron? She’s positive they are gone.”

  “Come on.”

  “Alright.” She motioned for me to sit at the oval table. She plugged in an extra pair of headphones and handed them to me. She stood and shut the door. From where we were sitting, we could see out the glass wall of the conference room, but no one could see what we were looking at. A small screen popped out of the table, showing a map highlighting their location while we listened to the audio feed from Jeremy’s phone. I heard my team’s running report of me getting kidnapped ending with Jeremy’s words, “They’ve got her. Follow them. Do not let them get away.”

  “Tell Siron to send backup to go for Kamal. We are going after Agent Hadden.” Halluis’s voice.

  “Don’t you lose them.”

  “No chance of that.” I heard Halluis gun the engine. The dot on the screen followed them as they drove. No one spoke for several minutes until Jeremy said, “We’ve got a tail. They’re coming up on us pretty fast.”

  “Can you do something about them?”

  Jeremy called for backup and then it sounded like he put his phone in his pocket and opened a window. Gunshots filled the mic. He must’ve been hanging out the window.

  Jeremy called out, “Crap! Bulletproof glass and reinforced metals. I can’t stop them.”

  There was a crunch and then some louder crunches.

  Rosabella sat stiffly in her chair. “That’s when the accident happened.”

  I nodded. “They had to be injured.”

  “Most likely, some of them.”

  Unfamiliar Frenchmen spoke. The voices were muffled and it was impossible to hear what they were saying.

  “Do our guys ever speak?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then how are we supposed to know if they’re alive?” I slapped my hands on the table.

  “By the mere fact that Jeremy has his phone transmitting.”

  I nodded. Rosabella pointed to the screen.

  “This is the last location the phone transmitted from.”

  “That’s definitely not the same place they took Summer and me.”

  I could hear rustling and low, muffled voices speaking in French. My head felt like it was about to explode, and a ball that was too big for my throat seemed to lodge itself there. I listened more intently.

  It sounded like the phone was still in Jeremy’s pocket. Fabric seemed to be brushing and rubbing up against the phone making it all the more difficult to understand the voices outside of the pocket.

  I took a deep breath, saying a little prayer that they were all right.

  The foreign voices accused them of being spies. It was obvious Jeremy and Halluis were being hit, whether by a fist or some other object, I didn’t know. Then there was a scuffle and everything got louder. The captors’ voices came through loud and clear now, but only for a moment before a gunshot rang out and the feed went dead.

  “Listen to the gunshot. It’s like in our trainings when you had to listen to the gunshots and be able to discern from which direction they came.”

  “Oh, yeah. I totally remember that.” She rolled her eyes.

  I gave her a look.

  “I mean I remember it, but I don’t remember what we learned exactly.” Rosabella back-pedaled.

  “Look. Right after the shot, the phone goes dead. They shot the phone. Yes, everything was muffled. They discovered the phone, removed it from his pocket, and shot it.”

  “Could be. The voices did suddenly become clear for a few moments before the shot.”

  “Yes!” We listened to the recording again. Rosabella was nodding.

  “You could totally be right.”

  “I’m going to convince Siron of that.” I ran to Siron’s office. “They aren’t dead. We need to go rescue them.”

  “Agent Hadd
en, what are you talking about?”

  I told her my conclusions.

  “That’s not what I heard.”

  “Come listen again with a new context.”

  “No. They are not alive, and I won’t risk sending any other agents out there to collect their bodies. Not with the drive still out in the open. The drive must be our top priority, and we are running out of time to retrieve it. We are bringing in Kamal’s girlfriend and interrogating him. It’s the only way. We can talk about retrieval after we have the drive.”

  “We haven’t lost anyone, though. They are alive. Most likely being tortured as we speak. We are going to lose them if we don’t go after them. Think about it. Why would they kill them without getting the information they needed first? They are alive.”

  “I’m sorry. I know this is hard. But there will be no rescue mission. Not now.”

  My insides burned and my hands curled into fists as Siron dismissed me, her hand going to the headset over her ears. I went back to Rosabella more determined than ever.

  “Siron won’t help. We have to rescue them on our own. I can’t imagine what is happening to them, but I’ll bet my life they are still alive and will remain so until they uncover who our guys are.”

  “I will go with you, Christy. You need backup.” Rosabella looked terrified beyond belief, and I loved her for the courage it took her to volunteer despite her fear.

  “No, someone needs to be here in case our guys somehow manage to check in. If any new intel comes in, I’ll need you to tell me where they are so I can get to them faster. I’ll bring Ace and Summer.” Asking for Summer’s help would not be easy.

  “Summer’s at Medical. She’s not going to be able to help and Ace is out with the team getting the drive.”

  I nodded. I hated that I would be on my own, but I could do this. I had to. “I only need one more thing from you then. I’ve got to get out of here. I need you to make sure Siron doesn’t know.”

  “I think I can do that.”

  My team—my friends—were in danger because of me. I would never abandon them, no matter what Siron ordered. I did not look back as the door to headquarters shut behind me. I knew Rosabella would keep the garage feeds from Siron as long as she could. The cars were the perfect resource to quickly refresh my go bag and get supplies for a new disguise. Each car was equipped with small makeup kits and limited hair and clothing choices.

  I took a few minutes to disguise myself. I wanted to pay homage to Cort, my handler in Florida, who had taught me so much about disguise, but I would have needed more time to be that amazing. I would be a bum for this mission, and I hoped it would be the last disguise I’d have to use in Paris.

  Since all Division cars would be tracked, I chose to go on foot. I pushed my number into the keypad and let the optical scanner identify me so I could leave the garage. If Siron didn’t already know I was going after Jeremy and Halluis, she would shortly.

  Chapter 16

  I slipped out into the twilight, one address and the best routes to get there spinning through my mind. I stuck to the subways, the most appropriate transportation for my disguise. I hugged my go bag to my chest. If only my original alias had been a bum here in Paris, I wouldn’t be in the position I was now in. No one would have ever tried to pick me. I huffed and used my burner phone for Internet access as I hid under the ratty blanket I had wrapped around me. I was glad I’d never bothered to get a new Division phone when I’d been let back into Siron’s graces. If I had, they’d be able to find me, just as they’d found Jeremy. The train seemed to become uncharacteristically packed as we got closer to my stop.

  I memorized every detail of the area around the house I was heading to. It was in the Marais neighborhood, a trendy, busy, and fashion conscious area of Paris. I could see the lure of it for the boss of a pickpocket gang. It was so busy, no one would ever wonder why so many people entered and exited a particular building all day long. The building appeared to have five different entrances disguised as separate apartments and a business front on street level. It was also the area where the Bastille was found. The history of the area had probably spoken to such a corrupt and villainous person. Plenty of people had lost their heads here. I hoped Jeremy still had his. No, I was not going to think like that. He was alive, and I was going to rescue him.

  To my surprise, when I climbed out of the train, the platform was packed. Many were dressed as if going out on the town, while others were dressed in costume as if going to a street festival. I puzzled over this until I stepped out onto the street, brushing against a woman dressed as a sexy Marie Antoinette, and saw the banners and fliers all over the place. I was smack-dab in the middle of the Marais Art Festival. A man in drag with excessive sparkles and massive plumes of feathers cut in front of me, the feathers tickling my nose as he passed. Surprisingly, no one snickered or stared at me in my bum attire. I seemed to fit right in with the partygoers.

  A large section of rue Beaubourg had been shut down to accommodate all the revelers as well as a large stage where a band had just finished playing a song. The French words of one of the band members boomed out over the crowds.

  “Yes. It’s true we have our very own Prime Minister here today. Why don’t you come up and say a few words to all your loyal subjects before you continue on with your art tour?”

  The crowd cheered, obviously loving the idea. I saw hands wave above a head, and I wondered if it was him.

  The band member sighed loudly into the microphone and said, “Just one sentence would suffice, Monsieur. We don’t need a full speech.”

  After almost a minute of near absolute silence, only a few intoxicated revelers shouting out here and there, the crowds parted and the Prime Minister, second only to the President of France, walked up to the makeshift stage and took the microphone, “Vivre le festival artistique de Marias!” His hands shot up in the air and behind him, my eyes found something I wasn’t expecting to see: Cardwell. He stood behind the Prime Minister, acting as some type of a guard, his eyes sweeping the area. I shrank back into the crowds, as if he would be able to pick me out of such an enormous group of people. Cardwell had had a busy day today. He looked upset. I would be too if I’d lost the two people I was supposed to have locked in my dungeon.

  Suddenly, my brain registered what I was seeing: Cardwell worked for the Prime Minister. There was no way this was a coincidence. The kidnappers were tied to the Prime Minister, and by the looks of things, they worked directly for him.

  I gasped and felt my way back to a building, any building that I could press up against. My mind reeled. Pieces cascaded into place, suddenly making sense. Adolphe and Cardwell had been looking for the drive, and Dufor had said the drive contained incriminating evidence against a powerful public official. The Prime Minister must have somehow been implicated by the information Dufor was planning to give us—but what could it have been?

  A perfect image of Dufor’s agitated drawings flashed through my mind. The man with the knife in his back—betrayal. Liberté, égalité, fraternité: the national motto of France, crossed out. Prime Minister Alden had betrayed the people of France? Then the twisted quote, “Poverty is the mother of crime and he is the father.” He could mean the Prime Minister. For Henri, I must. Dufor’s nephew, Henri, had died as a pickpocket on the streets of Paris. Suddenly, I understood, and my blood boiled.

  Dufor must have found out that Prime Minister Alden was connected to the crime rings of Paris. That was what was on the drive—evidence that would take down Alden, and the crime rings with him. “This cannot go on”, Dufor had written. He’d risked, and ultimately lost, his life to stop the Prime Minister from sponsoring crime.

  I stared up at the Prime Minister’s face as he waved to the crowds and exited the stage, Cardwell following close behind. I truly wanted to rip his eyes out.

  A church bell tolled, a stark reminder of the ticking clock on my friends’ lives. My friends were in the middle of this mess because of me, and now that I knew it involved hig
h levels in the government, fear nested in my chest. I needed to get them out, as fast as possible. As soon as they were free, I’d deal with the Prime Minister. I felt a slight tremor go through me, and my hair stood on edge like I was being watched. Had Cardwell or the Prime Minister seen me as I stood frozen, figuring out what was most likely going on? That had been a completely stupid idea. I scanned the crowd but saw no one, and the feeling subsided after I took a couple deep breaths. I made my way down the packed sidewalks to my destination.

  I leaned on the stoop of a nearby house and watched the building that was my team’s last known location, looking for security, alternate entrances, and anyone who seemed to be watching the place. I made out five cameras on the front of the building, and the green sheen on the glass told me it was bulletproof. A man sat on the porch swing, but the bulge at his hip betrayed his weapon. He got up and went inside. I bet more guards were waiting inside. With security so tight, I could see no easy way in from the ground floor. I slipped into the alley on the other side of the neighboring house and hunched down like I was just finding a place to bed down for the night. After two minutes, a good pathway up the exterior of the building presented itself.

  I carefully shed the blanket and started up the brick wall of the neighboring building, using window ledges and anything sticking out to help me move more quickly. It was nice to have so much distraction on the main street. Hopefully, no one would bother to look down a semi-dark alley. My fingers burned, but I knew this was the only way to gain entrance to the house. The ground level was too fortified with security and henchmen for me to consider trying to break through without some support.

  By climbing the sidewall of the neighboring house, I’d have access to the roof of the target building without having to get past anyone. The guards and the cameras paid it no attention. Major security flaw, in my opinion.