“That was one of my questions,” Alex said.
“My father worked for the French,” Ben said. “Rebecca’s father convinced me to work for the US.”
“Why?” Alex asked.
“Purity of purpose,” Ben said. “A lack of colonial baggage. Or some crap like that.”
“Where did my family’s money come from?” Alex asked.
“Rebecca’s grandmother,” Ben said. “She was loaded — robber baron money, the railroads, I think. She was the only heir.”
“And Mom’s brothers? My uncles?” Alex asked.
“They are an interesting lot,” Ben said. “As far as I know, they weren’t ever involved in intelligence, and I can’t imagine any of them having the patience to work on a map. There’s only one left.”
“Oh?” Alex asked. “They were all alive when everyone died.”
Ben grimaced at her insistence in using the phrase “everyone died” to describe the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team.
“There comes an age where hard drinking and foul temper catch up with a man,” Ben said. “In the last few years, they have passed over that threshold. Your remaining uncle is in prison and is unlikely to get out.”
“But they could have been involved in this other stuff,” Alex said.
“And pigs could fly,” Ben said.
Alex nodded.
“Anything else?” Ben asked.
“Who is Raz’s father?” Alex asked.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Ben asked. “His mother took that secret to her grave.”
“But you have some ideas?”
Ben nodded.
“Will you share your . . . ideas on this, too?”
“I don’t see why not,” Ben said. “Why do you ask?”
“It would be good to know,” Alex said.
“Run his DNA against CODIS,” Ben said. “Include national security and police. See what pops up.”
“You’ve done that,” Alex said.
“I have,” Ben said.
“And?” Alex asked.
“Nothing comes up,” Ben said. “For the record, I decided it didn’t matter. An unknown father has no sway over his abandoned son. Plus, Josh doesn’t care who his father is. He cannot be manipulated that way, so what’s the point?”
“Just a feeling,” Alex said.
“What kind of feeling?”
“That we’re going to find out that Raz’s father has more to do with all of this than we think,” Alex said. “I mean, how likely is it that Joshua Peretz’s old NYPD partner is right in the middle of this ‘burn the world’ mystery, which just happens to be connected to the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team and something I did during the last six months of service with them?”
“That’s a big coincidence,” Ben said.
“How did you find Josh?” Alex asked.
Ben looked at her for a moment and then finished his cognac.
“You don’t remember?” Alex asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ben said. “I think you’ll remember that I collected names from everyone. His name came along with a list of other people. I interviewed thirty or more people. You met ten of them. If we were manipulated into hiring him, it’s a big long shot.”
“Why don’t you send me the names?” Alex asked. “Maybe we’ll find something they have in common.”
Ben nodded. Thinking through his answers to her questions, Alex fell silent and drank her cognac. When her glass was empty, she looked at him. He was equally lost in thought. Feeling her gaze, he looked up.
“Fathers,” he said. He gestured to her cognac to see if she’d like a refill. She shook her head. “They seem to be a thread that runs all the way through this mystery.”
“They do,” Alex said.
“Let me take you back,” Ben said.
“Feeling fatherly?” Alex asked.
“I guess so,” Ben said. “You’re staying at the apartment?”
“All of us,” Alex nodded.
She picked up the antique maps.
“Do you mind?” Alex asked. “I’d like to check them against my maps. They look similar to me, but I won’t know if they are exactly the same until I see them side by side.”
“The differences may be enlightening,” Ben said. He looked at the compass in his hand for a moment. “Why don’t you take this, too?”
“I couldn’t,” Alex said.
“I don’t use it,” Ben said. “It’s more of a keepsake.”
“Are you sure?” Alex asked.
“Bring it back with the maps,” Ben said.
Alex nodded.
“You will bring them back?” Ben asked.
“Of course,” Alex said.
Ben gestured toward the door, and she followed him out of his office.
F
Chapter Twenty-one
Thursday morning
May 19 — 6:14 a.m. CEST
(May 18 — 10:14 p.m. MDT)
Paris, France
“Whose idea was it to have all these people from the north of Ireland live with us?” John asked.
Alex pointed to him, and he laughed. She was using her laptop for a video call. He was sitting in the green stuffed chair in their bedroom with Joey and Máire on his lap. Their babies were sound asleep. She saw the end of Maggie’s nose poke into the webcam’s view. The dog sniffed a few times to see if Alex was there.
“She’s not here, love,” John said in a soft tone to their puppy.
Alex heard Maggie hop up onto the bed. John said something else to Maggie before turning back to their conversation.
“Those Irish were pretty funny,” John said. “They insisted on sitting in with me.”
“That’s nice,” Alex said.
John grimaced.
“That sounds nice,” Alex said.
“That’s more like it,” John said.
“So what ended up happening?” Alex asked.
“We argued for a while,” John said. “Just as our lawyer was saying the negotiations were pointless — we have custody by Afghan law and US law, and a whole bunch of other stuff — Alex ran into the house.”
“Joseph’s son?” she asked.
“Exactly,” John said. “I guess he needed cupcakes for class tomorrow, and Cian told him they would help him make them. I had the door open to our living room, so he came right in. He stood at the threshold looking at me and then at the Afghan man. He was able to figure out what was going on right away. He said ‘Hello’ to the Afghan man and introduced himself in Arabic. He insisted on being my interpreter. The Afghan man was so taken back by Alex that he . . . Well, everything turned around right there.”
They had decided to use the term “the Afghan man” instead of his name.
“Wow.” Alex said with a disbelieving shake of her head.
“Yes, wow,” John said. “Turns out the Afghan man had fought in Lebanon with Alex’s biological father. He knew Alex’s mother as well. He was taken aback by Alex’s fluent Arabic and understanding of the culture. Just that went a long way toward settling the Afghan man’s concerns for Joey and Máire.”
“That’s very good,” Alex said. “Alex’s grandparents are ready for him to be known to the world.”
“Exactly what Alex said,” John smiled. “When the Afghan man realized who Alex was, he welled up. We were so surprised by his honest display of joy for meeting his dead friend’s son that . . . It was such a human moment that we were all moved.”
“He’s not going to interfere with Joey and Máire living with us?” Alex asked.
“He’s not,” John said.
“Yea!” Alex cheered.
“I know!” John said. “Again, it was Alex. He promised to help teach Joey and Máire about Afghanistan and Islam. He told the Afghan man about his weekly conversations with his Arabic family. He said you set that up.”
“I did,” Alex said. “They were some of the first people to use this Internet technology.”
“That’s what he said,” John said.
“And get this!”
“What?” Alex asked.
“The Afghan man is willing to accept Felicia as the head of the family in Afghanistan,” John said.
“That’s fabulous!” Alex said.
John smiled and nodded. Felicia was the wife of Joey and Máire’s mother Nazo’s brother, Emal. Felicia and the twins’ father, Farooq, were friends in the US Army. Farooq and Felicia had met Nazo and Emal at a traffic checkpoint. They were married in a joint wedding in one of the most beautiful ceremonies Alex had ever attended. Last year, when the Taliban came through their valley, Emal and Farooq hid Nazo and Felicia. The men defended their hiding place with their lives. Pregnant, Nazo and Felicia made their way to a refugee camp outside of Kabul to give Joey and Máire to Alex.
“How did you pull that off?” Alex asked.
“As you know, when Felicia went to Emal’s grave to say goodbye, she discovered a few children — girls,” John said. “They were hidden by their parents when the Taliban came through.”
“She is caring for the children,” Alex said. “Replanting and rebuilding for Emal.”
“Now on our Afghan man’s authority,” John said. “I’d guess he’d planned on using Felicia and the children as a bargaining tool.”
“He didn’t?” Alex asked.
“No,” John said. “He said Felicia was welcome to stay if it was all right with me.”
“And?” Alex smiled.
“I’m excited,” John said.
“Felicia will be thrilled,” Alex said. “Did he say anything about protection?”
“Yes,” John said. “They will offer to protect her and the children. They cannot afford to help her rebuild.”
“That’s all right,” Alex said.
“That’s what I told him,” John said. “We will support the rebuilding of the valley. That seemed to ease his mind. He was as worried as we are that the opium trade would take over the valley.”
“Probably more worried,” Alex said. “Once that happens, it’s very hard to do anything else with the land. The entire valley would be lost.”
“Exactly,” John said. “When the twins are older, he wants to be involved in their lives.”
Alex nodded.
“I told him that was all right,” John said.
“It’s a good idea,” Alex said.
Alex smiled.
“What?” John asked.
“You did it,” Alex said. “All on your own, you created a safe future for your children. That’s not bad for a day’s work.”
John beamed at her praise.
“My Arabic sucks,” John said.
“It does,” Alex said. “But we’ll get better as we teach Joey and Máire.”
“Alex was really great,” John said.
Alex smiled.
“Do you think Joey will . . .?” John’s brow furrowed with worry.
“I knew that’s what you were leading up to,” Alex said. “I think your son will be his own kind of man, like his father John . . .”
“And his father Farooq,” John said.
“Yes,” Alex said.
“And his kick-ass mother, Alex,” John said.
“I was thinking Máire would take after Nazo,” Alex said. “And me, of course.”
John laughed.
“I’m sorry they’re sleeping,” John said. “It seems like they get a little more alert and active every day.”
“How is Quince?” Alex asked.
“She’s lovely,” John said. “No engagement yet.”
“What is wrong with that boy?” Alex asked.
John laughed.
“It’s probably better that they’re asleep,” Alex said. “I think hearing my voice and seeing me is harder. I’ll be home soon.”
“You’re going to the bookstore today?” John asked.
Alex nodded.
“You’ll be . . .” His brow furrowed with worry.
“I will,” Alex said and smiled.
“This is the first time you’ve come in direct contact with the very same people who tried to murder you a block away in that wretched vault, Alex, and God only knows how many other times,” John said. “Even if they didn’t pull the trigger, they made it happen. Don’t take it lightly. They killed Yvonne just last year, and . . .”
Alex smiled, and he stopped talking.
“I don’t remember being such a worrier,” John said.
“I remember one of the first trips I went on,” Alex said. “You didn’t sleep for a week.”
“That was due to my work load at school,” John said a little too fast. Alex laughed. He grinned.
“I love that you love me,” Alex said.
“I do,” John said.
“Time to go,” Matthew’s voice came from the hallway.
“Thank you for taking care of the Afghan man,” Alex said. “That wasn’t easy, and you did an amazing job. Thank you.”
John grinned. He held his left hand up to the screen and put his right over her dog tag that he wore around his neck. She put her hand over the image of his hand.
“I love you, John Kelly Drayson, today and every other day for the rest of this life and any other I’m blessed with,” she said.
“I love you, Alexandra Hargreaves Drayson, today and every other day for the rest of this life and every other I’m blessed with,” he said.
She waved, and the screen went dark. For a moment, she sat looking at the dark screen. Her life was happening without her. These important conversations and moments were going on while she was attending to this mystery. Her heart longed for home.
“All set?” Raz asked in the doorway to their room.
Alex turned to look at him.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“More than I’d like to admit,” Alex said.
“Let’s go kick some ass,” Raz said in an imitation of Matthew’s voice.
“I heard that,” Matthew yelled from the living room.
Grinning, Alex followed Raz out of the room.
FFF
Thursday morning
May 19 — 7:30 a.m. CEST
Paris, France
They took taxis to the US Embassy, where they picked up two Jeeps and a transport vehicle. Trece drove Alex and Raz, while White Boy drove Matthew and Joseph. The rest of the team came in the transport truck, which Sergeant Dusty drove. By Dom’s request, they left their Fey fatigues in the apartment and dressed in standard US military-issue fatigues, boots, and berets. They each carried a medium-sized combat weapon or, in Dom’s words, “something big, black, and American.”
About an hour after they’d left the apartment, they pulled up to the bookstore a block away from Le Fée Verte. Parents walking their children to school scurried by to avoid their presence. At their kitchen sinks, grandmothers dropped the shades to avoid looking at them. Only young boys peeked out of their homes to see what was going on.
Alex thought the entire escapade was ridiculous.
Of course, the French came in dark, inconspicuous vehicles. They were not wearing fatigues or carrying five-and-a-half pounds of submachine plus ammunition. If they were armed, which was a big if, their weapons were as hidden as their affiliation with French Intelligence. They looked like business people attending to a matter at a local business before heading downtown to work.
“Lieutenant Colonel?” asked a man Alex recognized as one of Dom’s assistants.
“Oui,” Alex said.
“We are ready to open the bookstore,” Dom’s assistant said in French.
“Where is the assistant?” Alex asked. “Uh, Eloise Le Grande?”
He motioned to something behind her. Alex and Raz turned to see an elderly woman shuffle toward them. Her shoulders were slightly slumped and her head bowed. Her hair was up in a perfect bun, and her makeup was understated. Alex couldn’t shake the feeling that the slumped shoulders and shuffle were for their benefit. As she approached, the woman gave Alex a sly smile.
“Ma’am,” Alex said.
&n
bsp; Alex did not remember this assistant. Then the woman did an odd thing.
The bookstore assistant stepped around Jesse.
“Can she see me?” Jesse asked.
Alex shook her head. When the assistant passed, Alex could have sworn she heard a kind of rustling of leaves or pages in a notepad. Alex scowled.
“What?” Raz leaned sideways to ask in her ear.
Alex shook her head. Matthew and Troy came over to them.
“Did she step around Jesse?” Matthew asked in a low voice.
Alex nodded.
“You still don’t remember her?” Raz asked.
“I’ve never met her,” Alex said.
“Come along, dear,” Eloise Le Grande said as she waved Alex toward the door.
Alex felt drawn to the woman. With Jesse at her side, Alex went to the woman. Eloise Le Grande fumbled with her key for a moment before opening the door. She went into the bookstore. Alex and Jesse stepped in after her.
FF
The door slammed closed behind them.
Alex gasped and spun around. She heard her team scream in unison, and then everything became silent.
“We have only a moment,” Eloise Le Grande said in a language that Alex understood but couldn’t place. The elderly woman stood straighter. Before their eyes, she transformed from a heavy-set, aged pensioner to a lovely young woman with sparkling blue eyes and light brown hair. “We must be quick.”
“I’m not feeling very well,” Alex said in French. “Did you drug me?”
Eloise Le Grande laughed. With her laugh, the shop became grey in color. Alex felt like she was looking at a black-and-white photo of the shop. Multicolored books were now bound in shades of grey. The oak shelves were a light grey and coated in white dust. The rich brown parquet floor had turned the color of ash. For the first time, Alex noticed the detailing between the pieces of parquet. She knelt down. She was looking at the compass rose with its eight black points, eight shaded points, and distinctive eye. She swallowed hard.
“I’d like to leave now,” Alex said in French.
Eloise Le Grande ran through the shop. Drawn by some unseen force, Alex and Jesse were compelled to follow. In a small alcove near the back door of the store, Eloise Le Grande knelt in front of a wood panel. She pulled a small key from a chain around her neck. Leaning forward, she stuck the key into a lock Alex couldn’t see. The panel popped open.
Finding North Page 20
