"We're finished," he said. "Missus de l'Enfantine is ready to return to her apartment. Please make sure she has everything she needs for the evening."
"I'll be down in a few minutes, sir."
"And has our other guest finally arrived?"
"Yes, sir, an hour ago. I put him in Unit 441."
Cheong hesitated, as if he were trying to decide what to do next. "Okay. Make sure he has what he needs, as well. Tell him he needs to stay on L4. We don't want any trouble." he glanced over at Angel. "Once he's settled in, I'll stop by for a briefing."
"Yes, sir."
He replaced the receiver onto the cradle, then turned to address Angel and Farid. "You've given me a lot to think about," he said. "Get some rest. We'll reconvene in the morning after breakfast. I'll let you know how we've decided to proceed."
"I need access to the medical—"
"In the morning. It'll wait."
"Who is the new guest?"
"No one you need to worry about." He reached for the knob and pulled the door open, as if he couldn't get out of there quickly enough. "Sit tight until Emily returns."
They watched the door shut behind him, then Farid stood up and turned to Angel. "You know he does not believe you. That much even I can tell."
She shook her head, troubled that it would be so obvious even to him.
"After we run some tests tomorrow, he will have no choice." She could feel herself shaking again, this time from Cheong's rebuke. "And neither will you."
Chapter Forty Two
Joseph stepped through the eddies of steam spilling into the hallway and skidded to a stop when he saw Emily standing outside the bathroom. She looked irritated.
More than irritated, actually. She looked pissed.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't hear you come in." He tried to step past her, but she wouldn't let him.
"Are you singlehandedly trying to use up all the hot water in Iceland?" she snapped. "I've been waiting out here for half an hour. Mister Cheong's coming down to meet with you."
"Well, since Iceland is one gigantic water heater, I take it this isn't really about my showering habits."
She continued to glower at him.
"What happened, Emily? Did Cheong say something to you?"
"No. It's that damn woman. She's a total bitch. And crazy. Don't tell me you don't think so, too. I've heard the way you talk about her to Cheong."
He sighed. "It's my job to be skeptical about people. I have to be cautious. It doesn't mean I think she's crazy."
"Well, I do. She's totally unstable. She bosses everyone around. And Mister Cheong just lets her do it!"
"Careful," he warned. "You know she's his pet project."
"Not for long."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I don't think she's going to be around much longer."
"Is this because of what he found in Lyon?"
"You're not supposed to know about that."
"A little birdie told me."
"You want to hear what she did?"
He didn't really. He was dripping wet and clad only in a towel. And the hallway was cold.
"I just took dinner to her apartment — which, you know, isn't even hers, and she's made a total disaster out of it already — and you'd never guess what she wants me to do. Move her into a different apartment! Who do you think is going to have to clean up after her? Me!"
He mock gasped. "And here I thought you were going to say she asked for unending bottles of wine."
"Shut up. Why are you always so mean to me?"
"You know that's not true. Anyway, be patient. You need to be nice to her for now."
"Why? Cheong finally got his head out of his ass long enough to see what a wacko she is. She's dangerous to us being here. And you," she said, pointing at him, "he says you need to stay out of sight. We don't need her finding out you're here and realizing you lied to her about dying in Shanghai."
He snorted. "She's not going to."
"Says the man walking around cluelessly flashing himself."
He looked down at himself. The ends of the towel were gathered in his fist, the opening to one side. Nothing was exposed.
"And you're dripping water all over the place."
"It's my apartment."
"Not permanently." She shook her head disgustedly. "You're as bad as she is."
"Can I at least get my clothes in the other room?"
She rolled her eyes and stepped to one side. "Just hurry up before Cheong arrives."
* * *
His hair was still damp when he rejoined her in the apartment's main room, but at least it wasn't dripping anymore. Emily stood at the counter in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. She was still scowling, although not as severely as before.
"You feeling any better now?" he asked.
She exhaled deeply, shaking her head. "I just think it's a bad idea bringing you here when she's right upstairs."
"Why do you even care? You said she'll be gone soon anyway."
"I just don't like the timing."
He frowned. It did seem suspicious. "I already told you, Em. Nothing's going to happen. She doesn't have a security card, right? So she can't go anywhere without you."
"Aren't you even just a little curious?"
"About seeing her?" He laughed, suddenly realizing why she was acting this way. "You're jealous!"
"I am not!"
"Then why the claws all of a sudden? I've never seen you like this before."
The redness on her face intensified several shades, but when she swatted at his arm it was more playful than angry. "You're probably right. It's just that everything's happening all at once. She calls him out of the blue, right as we're about to settle everything here. The accounts are all just sitting there, waiting to be closed. That's a hundred million dollars."
He whistled. "Why so much?"
"We've been holding off paying the balance to the suppliers. Cheong said there were some issues he needed to deal with first. That's why he went into town today."
He shrugged. "It's just a coincidence. My understanding is she's here for a different reason having to do with China. Did she say anything to you about it?"
Emily shook her head. "She and that man she brought with her talked with Cheong for ages, but they wouldn't let me hear what it was about."
"What man?"
"Oh, now who's jealous?"
"I'm not. But we know she was being helped by someone. I'm just wondering if it's the same man."
"I don't think so. This is some guy named Farid al-Haddad. She says he's a Syrian refugee, but if you ask me, I think he's a terrorist."
"Why would she bring a terrorist here?" He shook his head, frowning. "No, Cheong would never allow it."
"I told you, Cheong's blind when it comes to her. He's letting her walk all over him."
"You just said he finally got his head out of his ass. Which is it?"
"That's not what I said!"
Joseph tried to respond, but he had a tickle in his throat. He turned his head and coughed into his fist. The damn thing had nagged him since Israel, and he just couldn't seem to get rid of it. Even worse, he'd started getting body aches just that morning. It was part of the reason he'd spent so much time in the shower. The hot water was the only thing he'd found to throw off the damn chill.
She reached over and placed a hand on his cheek. "You're burning up!"
"I'm fine," he lied. "Just hot from the shower."
She frowned at him, then stepped closer. He was nearly a foot taller than she, but with her being so near he could smell the delicate fragrance of her shampoo in her hair. She leaned into him, pressing her body against his, and gazed up with those deceptively innocent-looking green eyes of hers. At the same time, her not-so-innocent hands found their way beneath his shirt and around to his back, sending chills over his skin and raising more than goose flesh. She was so incredibly warm and soft, yet her touch was almost too painful to tolerate at the moment.
He knew
she was trying to distract him. She always resorted to this whenever their arguments didn't go her way. And it worked every time.
"Not here," he said, halfheartedly pushing her away. But she persisted, slipping her hand down the front of his pants and finding what he secretly hoped she would. She arched her back, standing on her toes, and squeezed.
"You are hot," she purred. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? You know, she just got over the flu."
"It's not the flu," he insisted. Then, silently: Don't stop.
With her other hand, she pulled his head down to hers. He shut his eyes, inhaled her scent. He was so much putty in her fingers. Her tongue found his lips. Each flick sent an electric shock through his body. She pushed, harder, probing with her hot, soft wetness, prying his lips open. He eagerly took her into his mouth, and her taste exploded inside of him— hints of caramel and coffee, her favorite drink. Images of their sweaty skin merging with each other exploded inside his head.
His own hands were on her now, sweeping over her body, eagerly seeking any opening in her own clothes, pulling on her shirt and slipping in underneath. Fingers searching, unhooking, finding those special soft places that always drove her to ecstasy. Now pressing and kneading until the choicest of those parts turned rigid and she began to moan with pleasure. The sound of her voice drove him closer to that forbidden oblivion that was their secret and no one else's, even as the threat of Cheong walking in on them pounded with greater insistence through his mind.
Once more, with terrible restraint, he pushed her away, whispering for her to stop. And yet, she was like a magnet, resisting him, pulling them together. He could feel himself slipping.
He didn't want her to stop, of course. No sane man would. And it had been weeks since they had been together like this. But the damn cold chill was starting to settle back into his bones again. The sensation of her skin on his was starting to become a distraction.
She moaned again, pressing him against the counter, unsnapping his pants and tugging them lower on his hips. Only when there came a soft knock on the door did she relent.
"Perfect timing," she said unhappily. She leaned away to fix her clothes.
He continued to cling to her, daring their boss to open the door and discover the affair. He almost wished Cheong would, so they could end this charade. But the door was locked, and he knew that Cheong almost always waited for it to be answered rather than use his key.
"Whatever happens," Emily said, stretching up and whispering into Joseph's ear. Her breath was a scalding caress on the skin of his cheek, sending even more chills through his fevered body. "We can't let her ruin everything for us. I don't want to lose everything we've invested."
He swallowed, and tried to slow his breathing. His heart was a snare drum beating fast and loud in his ears. "You're right, of course." He gave her breast a final gentle squeeze, then ruefully dropped his hands to the countertop behind him. "I guess we had better answer that."
She nodded and gave him a mischievous smile. "You might want to holster that thing first," she said, and he hissed in sweet agony as she gave it one final squeeze in return. "You wouldn't want it to accidentally go off."
Chapter Forty Three
"I apologize for not being here when you arrived earlier today," Cheong said, nodding to Joseph as he entered the apartment. "I was held up in a meeting with the deputy minister."
"No problem. It gave me a chance to clean up. First decent shower I've had in weeks."
Cheong nodded. "So, what are we calling you these days?"
"It's still Joe," Emily replied, before he had a chance to answer for himself.
Cheong cocked an eyebrow at him. "Your Israel alias?"
"It's kind of grown on me," he said, shrugging.
Cheong shook his head, but he didn't comment on it any further. Instead, he turned to Emily to thank her for looking after the l'Enfantine woman. "I trust you two got along well enough?"
"Yes, sir. It was no problem."
"Don't be so modest, my dear. I know she can be a bit stiff. When I woke this morning, I was aware she had recovered enough from her illness that she would be asking for a meeting, and it was with every expectation that I would be around to attend to her myself. But then this thing came up. I had to go. Worst part about this job is the administration."
"Emily said you talked with Angel for quite some time. What did she have to say?"
Cheong turned back to Joseph. "It would seem the ordeal we subjected her to in China was far more . . . impactful than I had even imagined."
"I'm eager to hear about it," Joseph said. His eyes tracked Emily as she shut the door then slipped quietly past them and over to the kitchen. As she went, she curled a braid of hair around her finger, as was her habit in Cheong's presence. She'd get to the end and feed it into her mouth, pulling at it with her tongue, slipping the tip of her finger in to suck on it for a moment. Then she'd use the moistness to gather another braid and repeat the process.
The affectation might seem childish to others, but Joseph found it incredibly arousing.
His thoughts drifted, and with them his attention. The nerves in his skin, hypersensitive because of the cold bug he was certain he was fighting, were still very much abuzz with sexual tension, and he almost resented her for waking that part of him up when she knew Cheong would be arriving at any moment. Now he couldn't get her off his mind. He wanted her, needed her. He yearned to undress her. To press himself against her soft skin.
To enter her.
"Joseph?"
He blinked, frowning at himself. "S-sorry. Jet lag, I guess." He slid sideways toward the door, positioning himself so that Cheong's back was toward Emily. The girl knew exactly what she was doing to him, knew the effect she had. She was being especially brazen at the moment, perhaps to get back at him for Angel's mistreatment of her, as if it was his fault. She could get like that sometimes, petulant, vindictive. Immature. He worried that if she weren't careful, she'd ruin everything for the both of them. Cheong would not hesitate to cut them both off if he felt they jeopardized the group's work.
"Jet lag from driving?"
He shrugged.
"I'll get to the l'Enfantine story soon enough," Cheong said. "In the meantime, I need your attention on another matter."
Joseph forced himself to nod. It was so damn hard to concentrate when Emily was doing things like that. He swallowed, found his throat dry as fossil bone, and choked slightly. "Such as?"
"Today's meeting was with Deputy Minister Leifsson— actually, former Deputy Minister now. It did not go well."
"Former?" Joseph asked, startled. He was vaguely aware of the connections Cheong and 6X had with the Icelandic government. The president and parliament had been instrumental in getting the facility built in the first place, and under such secrecy. Was the project being threatened?
"Leifsson's been forced to resign."
"Why?"
Cheong sighed and shook his head. "His name came up in the leaked documents out of Panama. The connections are tenuous, at best, but 6X felt it was only a matter of time before they could be linked back to us. The last thing we want is a bunch of people associating our organization with certain types of ventures, especially those that raise the possibility of conflicts of interest. It could get embarrassing for our current supporters if the optics make them appear to be sponsoring certain speculative and, shall we say apocalyptic, activities. We cannot afford to stifle future investment. Not now."
"Is that what the deputy minister is, an investor?"
"More than that. I'm using his unfinished apartment to house the l'Enfantine woman and her guest."
Joseph's mouth fell open in surprise. Acknowledging a resident by name was a breach of protocol. Cheong was aware of this, of course, which meant he had a good reason for sharing the information.
"Speaking of which," Cheong said, turning to Emily, "would you make sure the apartment she was in is returned to its original state?"
The girl nodded meekly. "Y
es, sir."
"The one silver lining, as thin as it might be, is that Leifsson won't be visiting his apartment in here anytime soon."
"He's backing out?"
"We're keeping his account on hold for now, until we patch our vulnerabilities. Leifsson understands the seriousness of this situation and has agreed not to make any move until we give him the green light. He fully appreciates what's at stake. He knows the lengths to which the group will go to prevent exposing itself. He has a family to think about."
"And how do I fit in?"
"We've got an insane amount of money tied up right now for the bunker setup. We can't move it as freely as we had planned. I need you to arrange for new intermediaries for the transactions, muddy them up a bit, break them into smaller chunks and spread them out. Keep it all above board. Line up all legitimate agents. We need to avoid any perception of impropriety which might attract the wrong kind of attention or an audit. I've also instructed our cyber team to begin bolstering the firewalls around our finances."
A sudden burst of coughing from the kitchen drew their attention. Emily had relocated there and was drinking from a can of soda she'd taken from the refrigerator. She stood at the counter choking and banging on her chest.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded and waved for the men not to pay her any attention, but Joseph knew what had brought on the attack. Her face was beet red, and it wasn't because she had randomly swallowed wrong.
"I'd oversee the accounting myself," Cheong continued, "but it looks like the l'Enfantine issue will require my full attention over the next several days."
"You pulled me off searching for her husband to oversee an accounting project?" Joseph asked. His eyes flicked over to Emily, who glared back at him. "When you said this was about China, I didn't think—"
"Actually, I pulled you off because we need to shift resources. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you've gotten nowhere with David Eitan."
Iceland: An International Thriller (The Flense Book 2) Page 28
