Devious Minds

by Colleen Helme

  He wrote a number on another piece of paper and handed it to me. “Normally, I’d have you memorize that and then eat it... but since you’re not an agent, I’ll let you off the hook.” He caught my gaze and sent me a teasing grin before continuing. “That number is to a good friend with French Intelligence. His name is Gabriel Dumont. But please don’t call him unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “You mean like if you’re dead?” I asked, a little shocked that he was thinking that.

  “Uh... yes... exactly... but that won’t happen. We’re just going over the worst case scenarios here.”

  “But what about the American Embassy? I would think contacting them would make more sense.” I didn’t add ‘since you work for the government,’ like I wanted, but figured he’d pick up on that.

  “Normally, I’d agree, but Gabriel is the better contact. Help would come quicker from him.” He was thinking that Suzette might help too, but Gabriel was his first choice, and he wasn’t sure Suzette was in France. Right now, no one in the American Embassy knew he was here, and he wanted to keep it that way. This meeting wasn’t sanctioned, and he didn’t want to explain his reasons to anyone until he had the outcome he’d been working for. That way, if things didn’t work out, there was no harm done, and no one would find out about it. He owed Mason that much.

  “Okay,” I agreed, my chest tightening with dread. Knowing Blake was acting alone kind of freaked me out. I glanced at the paper with Gabriel’s number on it but, with my frazzled nerves, I didn’t think I could memorize a thing. I also caught that Blake had a history with this Suzette person, but not whether it was good or bad, so that didn’t help either.

  “Good, then we’re ready to go.”

  I slipped the paper with the phone number, along with the key, inside the inner zippered compartment of my purse with all the euros. Then I strapped the purse over my shoulder and slipped my jacket on over that.

  I picked up that Blake was beginning to regret telling me anything since my expression was so serious, and that he hoped I would perk up once we left the apartment. He didn’t want to ruin my enjoyment. I felt kind of bad about that, so I tried not to worry.

  We took the stairs going down again and, once out on the sidewalk, the excitement of being in Paris rushed over me. After that, it was easy to brush away my fears of the future and enjoy this moment.

  “I thought we could take the metro to the Arc de Triomphe and then walk down the Champs-Élysées for a bit. How does that sound?”

  “That would be great,” I agreed with a smile.

  We headed for the metro and found it more crowded than it had been earlier. It looked like lots of people were ready for a night out on the town. I found that, even though I couldn’t understand their words, it was easy to pick up their enthusiasm, which made me even more excited for the night ahead.

  Our stop finally came, and we hurried off the train with a bunch of other people. Instead of going up to the street level, Blake guided me to a walkway that went right under the street and came out at the base of the Arc de Triomphe, which was a relief since crossing all those lanes of traffic looked like a death wish.

  We found the ticket booth and got our tickets to climb the stairs all the way to the observation deck at the top. After climbing around and around the staircase, I was starting to get dizzy, but at the top, the view was totally worth it.

  Even though it was getting dark, lights lit up all of the buildings. From here we could see everywhere, and it took my breath away. It was fun to find the Eiffel Tower on one side, Sacré-Coeur on the other, and a magnificent view of the Champs-Élysées all the way to the Place de la Concorde and the Luxor Obelisk.

  The other side of the Arc held another impressive view. Far in the distance, we could see an arch called The Grand Arch and towering new buildings. Blake told me this was the business district of Paris, which I had no idea existed.

  After taking lots of pictures, we went back down the stairs and admired the Arc itself with the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and all the beautiful statuary around it. Leaving the Arc behind, we once again took the tunnel beneath traffic and came out on the well-known Champs-Élysées.

  Starting down this famous street, I tried to take it all in, but with so many shops, and not enough time to go inside, I decided to relax and enjoy the walk. It was okay as long as I could come back and get a birthday present for Savannah tomorrow.

  That’s when the smell of perfume hit me. Every once in a while, I’d get a whiff of the most wonderful scents, but I didn’t know where they came from. Was it the women who passed by, or did it come from the shops? All I knew was I couldn’t wait to come back and buy some of that perfume for me.

  Further down the street, Blake stopped at a window café and patisserie where we ordered a couple of croissants and some macarons to tide us over until after the concert. I’d never had a macaron before. Made out of whipped egg whites, they were light and chewy and totally delicious, kind of like most everything else here. Then it was time to head back to the Ile-de-la-Cité and Sainte-Chapelle for the concert.

  After another ride on the metro, we emerged onto a street near Notre-Dame, and I knew that without Blake, I would be completely turned around. It was nearly eight o’clock and, surrounded by so many buildings, I couldn’t say which direction the sun had set.

  A line of people slowly moved into a building, and we took our places, eventually entering a lobby with security guards and a screening metal detector similar to those found at airports. Once we got through security, we then followed the line to the actual entrance of the cathedral.

  Entering this beautiful chapel took my breath away. The stained glass windows going all the way to the rounded domes in the ceiling caught the outside lighting, marking the interior with brilliant shades of color. A feeling of reverence came over me as I followed Blake to a chair and sat down. I could hardly believe I was sitting in this amazing place in Paris, ready to listen to a Vivaldi concert. How cool was that?

  I took several pictures and glanced around the room, trying to take it all in. With my attention focused on the stained glass windows and architecture of the building, I hardly noticed the people. It wasn’t until I caught a thought from Blake that I changed my focus.

  He’d made sure that we sat on the side and near the back so he could watch for Mason but, so far, he hadn’t seen him, and the concert was about to start. He worried that his careful plans had been for nothing, and he sighed with discouragement.

  I listened carefully for any thoughts in English and actually picked something up. I concentrated on that one voice as hard as I could until I understood the words. He was thinking that this had better not be a mistake... he didn’t trust him, but what could it hurt to listen? They were old friends, but that didn’t mean a thing in his line of business.

  That had to be Mason. I glanced in the direction I’d heard those thoughts. A couple of rows behind us, on the other side of the room, a man cast a curious glance in my direction. I knew I’d hit the jack pot when he thought about me... and how I was looking at him. Who was I? Was I with Blake?

  I let out my breath and faced forward, then let a few seconds go by before whispering to Blake. “He’s here. Two rows back on the other side of the room. That’s him, right?”

  Blake’s eyes got big, and he swore in his mind before casting a quick glance over his shoulder. “How the hell did you know that?”

  I almost answered, but then I realized he hadn’t said a word and I snapped my mouth shut. Oh hell... what was wrong with me? I closed my eyes and swallowed, hoping I hadn’t just given away my secret in any way, shape, or form. Blake wasn’t an idiot, but would he really think someone could read minds?

  Blake let out a breath of relief that Mason was here before whispering. “Yeah, that’s him. How did you know?” He was thinking that he’d never shown me a picture, given me a name, or any information that would tell me that the person sitting behind us was Mason. So what the hell was going on?
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br />   I shrugged. “Um... just my premonitions.”

  He studied me for a moment, thinking my premonitions were seriously bad-ass. I think my eyes widened, but I managed to hold back the sudden need to laugh hysterically. At that moment, the concert began, and I covered the urge by clapping and letting out a chuckle of enthusiasm. Lucky for me, everyone else clapped too.

  As the beginning strains of Pachelbel’s Cannon in D floated over me, I let out my breath and relaxed against my chair. What had I done? I’d almost given myself away. From now on, I was not going to be so stupid. I decided not to listen to anyone’s thoughts and just focus on the music, which was kind of easy since most everyone was focused on listening to the music too.

  Soon the composition of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons filled up the chapel from one end to the other. In that beautiful setting, I enjoyed every minute of it. I even managed to video a portion with my phone so I could show Chris, my kids, and basically all my friends.

  Before I was ready, the final notes sounded, ending this pleasant hour. Everyone rose for a standing ovation. Then it was over. As people began to file out the doors, I noticed the sky had gone completely dark, and I looked forward to seeing Paris, or ‘The City of Light,’ as it is most often called, at night. Blake and I joined the crowd and began the trek around the building toward the exit.

  We reached the steps and began our descent toward the gates that stood open with an armed security officer on either side. I knew the moment Mason stepped behind us. Once we passed the gate, he made his move, coming to my side and entwining his arm with mine.

  “Bonsoir, ma belle. Que faites-vous avec ce vieil homme?”

  I slowed, but continued to walk with him, since he held my arm hostage. He was taller and stronger than I thought, taking me by surprise. Along with that, his dark eyes and penetrating gaze gave me the uncomfortable feeling that I was like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

  Blake pursed his lips before speaking. “Hello Mason, nice to see you too.”

  Mason glanced at him before turning his attention to me, wondering why I didn’t answer.

  “Uh... I don’t speak French.”

  Mason threw back his head and laughed. He could hardly believe that Blake would bring an operative into the field who didn’t speak the language. Had he lost his mind? Maybe I was only there as eye-candy to lure him in. Or was there something special about me? He knew Blake never did anything without an ulterior motive, so what part did I play?

  “Mason,” Blake said. “This is Shelby, uh... my niece.”

  I gasped. What the freak? He was thinking that if Manetto could do it, so could he. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him no way, but I clamped my mouth shut... again. Instead, I turned to the man who held me a little too close for comfort, and raised my brow. “You can let go of me now, unless you want my uncle to clobber you.”

  Mason chuckled, then caught my unrelenting gaze and, with reluctance, released me. He thought I was kind of cute, but definitely not an operative or field trained. In all likelihood, I probably was Blake’s niece. With that thought, a cold shaft of disappointment rushed through him, since he liked what he saw.

  “Well, Blake, you got my attention. I’m here. What do you want?”

  “I thought we’d get a bite to eat and talk, that’s all.” Blake was hoping that sounded harmless enough and Mason would take the bait.

  “Right,” Mason answered. “You can’t fool me, Blake. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but I’ll bite, since you went to so much trouble to find me.” He was curious to know what Blake really wanted, and thought it in his best interests to find out. “I know a café not too far from here.”

  Mason’s challenging gaze caught Blake’s, pushing Blake to let him take over the lead from here. Was Blake willing to take the risk?

  “Sounds great,” Blake agreed. “Whatever you want.”

  Mason nodded, knowing Blake was in a deal-making mood, and wondered again what he was willing to put on the table.

  “Good,” I said, wanting to get this over with. “Let’s go.”

  Mason glanced my way and smiled, thinking I really didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. It bothered him some, but it also made this little meeting seem more harmless. Unless that was exactly what Blake wanted him to think, since he’d brought me for some reason. If only he knew what that was.

  Blake was thinking Mason’s curiosity had gotten the best of him again, and he hoped to make some progress this time. He hadn’t spent the best years of his life training him for nothing, and he hoped Mason would listen to reason this time.

  I sighed. Was this how spies thought all the time? Were they always looking for innuendos and hidden meanings? Why couldn’t they just say what they thought? It was enough to make my head spin.

  “Is this your first trip to Paris?” Mason asked me, wanting to fill the silence with small talk. I nodded, and he continued. “How do you like it so far?”

  “It’s amazing,” I said. Then, since neither of them was going to say much, I began to expound on everything I’d seen. I went on and on while Mason led us through the streets, only letting up when we finally came to the café he wanted.

  “I’m glad you’re having such a good time,” Mason said, genuinely pleased with my enthusiasm. “Here we are. I have a room reserved for us in the back. Right through here.”

  I followed him without missing a beat, but Blake hesitated, thinking this was a set-up, and he was walking right into Mason’s trap. He didn’t trust Mason, but if he wanted Mason to listen to anything he had to say, it was a chance he had to take. Still, it didn’t make him happy.

  Oh great. A trap? What did he mean by that?

  We passed all the tables on the main floor, then went up a short staircase, before heading down a hall. With each step further into the building, I could feel Blake’s concern grow, and it was starting to freak me out. At the end of the hall, Mason turned the corner and disappeared. I almost turned around, but then Mason came back and, with a smile, motioned us on.

  I glanced at Blake. He nodded, so I turned the corner. My trepidation vanished, and I smiled with pleasure to find a small room with three round tables, all set with dinnerware, napkins and glasses. Pretty little lights were strung around the room, and each table had a candle centerpiece, giving the small space a cozy, warm feel.

  Mason asked us to sit while he told the proprietor we had arrived. Almost at once, a waiter brought a plate of various cheeses and breads, then produced a bottle of wine and popped the cork. As the waiter filled our glasses, Mason came back in and sat down, pleased with the proficiency with which we’d been served.

  “After I received Blake’s cryptic message,” Mason began, glancing my way. “This seemed like the best place for a private chat.”

  “Works for me,” I said with a shrug, eager to try some famous French cheese and bread. The crusty bread tasted divine, and the cheese tasted mild, yet hauntingly complex. It was firm, smooth, sweet, and a little nutty. I moaned with pleasure and opened my eyes to find both men looking at me like I was nuts. “This is really good.”

  Blake hid a smile and decided to get down to business. “Mason, I know we’ve had our differences,” he began. “But I was hoping you’d consider coming back to work for me.”

  Mason sat back with a huff of disdain, his nostrils flaring. “You can’t be serious... after what happened? How can you even suggest such a thing?”

  “Please,” Blake said. “Just give me a minute to explain.”

  Mason shrugged like it didn’t matter, but inside, a kernel of hope flared. “Fine. I’m listening.”

  “I’m in a better position now,” Blake said. “I can make certain things go away, and you can start over. I want to make this right.”

  Mason shook his head, determined not to let Blake bulldoze him until he knew exactly what he wanted. “It’s too late for that. Maybe if you’d come to me five years ago... but not now. I have my own business, and I do quite well for myself.
I don’t need you anymore.”

  Blake was thinking that he never expected Mason to take him up on his offer. It was the business he was in now that worried him. If his suspicions were correct, Mason had no idea who he was dealing with.

  Mason was thinking that Blake had come a long way just to offer him a clean slate, then his eyes narrowed, and he knew Blake must have heard about his business and some of his associates. Blake had never intended for him to come back to the agency. He just wanted to use him to get to someone else. The one man Blake had never been able to catch.

  “I can see you don’t believe me,” Blake said. “That’s fine. I understand if you don’t want to come back, but maybe we can work out an arrangement that would be mutually beneficial.”

  Wow, that sounded just like something taken right out of Uncle Joey’s playbook. They were both saying such different things from what they thought that it was hard to keep it straight. Did all spies have such devious minds?

  Mason nodded. “Now it comes out. The real reason you wanted to talk. You want something from me.”

  “Look kid,” Blake said, taking off the gloves. “You’re in over your head, and I’m worried about you. You’re playing too many sides, and it’s going to get you killed. Somewhere along the line, somebody’s going to decide you know too much, and you’ll end up dead. If we work together on this, I can protect you.”

  Blake was thinking about the report of a weapon that had gone missing from a military facility in Turkey, and how they’d tracked it to France. If Mason was involved with a terrorist group... he was toast. But if he had any information that could help Blake find it, he thought it was worth the risk to get Mason out of there.

  “You calling me kid,” Mason said, shaking his head. “Now that’s funny. Like I don’t know what I’m doing. So... tell me... what do you expect in return?” Mason was thinking that if he shared what he knew with Blake, he was a goner, so he had to play it cool.

  “I just want to keep you alive,” Blake said, thinking that if Mason was involved in this, it couldn’t be voluntary. Mason might be a free agent, but he wasn’t stupid. “There’s something going down...”