Revenge

by Meredith Wild

  “What’s that?”

  He drops it in front of an accent chair before sitting. “Supplies.”

  I frown. “Supplies?”

  “You didn’t think I was going to smuggle guns and ammo on the plane, did you?”

  “Oh.” In the rush of traveling, it didn’t occur to me that we’d arrive in Paris unarmed. Generally, I prefer not to be, but that’s not Tristan’s style. “Where did you get it?”

  He shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it aside. “Some people can score drugs in any city, whether they know people or not. I can find guns and people willing to help me do unsavory things for the right price.”

  I decide I don’t want to know more. Tracking down illegal firearms can remain one of Tristan’s life skills that I don’t need to share.

  “Any luck?” He nods toward the laptop as he unzips the bag.

  I push it aside with an unsatisfied sound. “I know more than I used to but not enough to find any discrepancies in the test results. If there was a failure, no one seemed to think it was alarming enough to include it in the summaries, which honestly are the only pieces of this that make any sense to me. From what I could find about it online, the side effects aren’t anything close to what you’ve experienced.”

  “Your grandfather exposed them twenty years ago for skewing data. What makes you think anything’s changed?”

  “Believe me, I take nothing for granted. If there are adverse effects that Chalys has been trying to hide, they won’t be able to hide them forever. People will find out. But I think we have to consider that if they’ve come this far with it, Felix could actually help people.”

  His brows crunch as he looks down, riffling through the bag in silence. I don’t blame him. If the drug that robbed him of his memories weren’t linked to Felix, he may be less skeptical about it. For now he seems committed to believe the worst.

  “I’m sorry I missed Mateus. How is he?”

  “Determined as ever. He met with Simon. It appears he’s thought of everything. From bribing port authorities all the way to investing in drug treatment facilities that will shell out Felix like candy. And of course skimming a little off the top from his go-to dealers. Combined, you’re talking about serious money, a lot of which is going to need to be cleaned. That’s where Mateus comes in.”

  A knot begins to form in my belly. It was only a matter of time before Simon asked for repayment. He wouldn’t kill a man for nothing if he could ask for something valuable in return. According to Jay, that philosophy was the driving force behind Company Eleven’s league of assassins, eliminating people for leverage over money in most cases.

  “Did he agree?”

  “Not yet. But he will.” He pulls out a gun that looks like the one he favors.

  I straighten in the bed. “If he does what Simon wants, Mateus will be implicating himself. He can’t do that.”

  “I know that, Isabel. That’s why I’m going to make sure Simon stops breathing before it comes to that.”

  I swallow hard. “That’s not going to fix this.”

  He tilts his head to the side, his attention fixed on the gun he’s holding like he intends to use it sooner rather than later. “I think it’ll help.”

  I can’t deny he could be right. Simon’s hand in this has been critical. Without him, the operation could carry on, but I suspect no one can pull strings like he can. I haven’t endured so much that I relish the idea of Tristan killing again, but something tells me now isn’t the time to question his instincts. If anyone’s name belongs in the ledger, it’s Simon’s.

  When Tristan’s phone rings, he pulls it from his pocket. “It’s Mateus,” he says, putting him on speaker. “Isabel is here too.”

  “Davis wants to meet tonight.” Mateus’s familiar voice echoes through the room. “He just called.”

  Tristan stays silent. He seems deep in thought, furrowing his brows.

  “Tristan?” Mateus says after a moment.

  “We’ll be there.”

  I widen my eyes. “We will?”

  “We need to find out why they’re still in Paris if Simon already left,” Tristan says. “Davis is our only lead, and I’m not letting him out of my sight. Isabel doesn’t need to be on your arm, but she can be close enough to have eyes and ears on you. And I won’t be far. Until we figure out what the hell they’re up to, we go where he goes.”

  “If that’s what you think is best. I plan to be at the bar at seven,” Mateus says. “It should be busy enough for Isabel to go unnoticed. If not, we’ll improvise.”

  Bloodred curtains frame the threshold of La Réserve. Night has fallen, but the street is busy with traffic and pedestrians. All the activity has my attention pinging everywhere. My heart rate has gone up a few notches at the prospect of being recognized, even though I’ve been able to pull this off so many times before.

  Tristan takes my hand, halting our forward movement toward the entrance. “I’m going to wait out here,” he says, his voice low enough that the doorman ahead can’t hear us. “Stay out of Knight’s line of sight, and text me if anyone moves.”

  I shake out my free hand, attempting to steady my nerves.

  His gaze travels the length of me. When our eyes meet, he gives one of the curls from my wig a little pull, letting it spring back into place a second later.

  “Do I look okay?” Unlike nearly every other time I’ve gone into a situation like this, I’m aiming for understated, which means a simple black sweater over black pants and a wig I hope does more to obscure my face than bring attention to it.

  “You look good,” he says with a confidence that manages to soothe me. “Keep me posted every step of the way, all right?”

  I nod and head toward the doorman, who greets me and gestures for me to proceed inside.

  The reception area is gleaming and glittery with slick marble and ornate lamps. Hoping not to attract any attention, I pretend like nothing here is new to me and meander farther inside until I find the bar.

  My heart takes residence in my throat as I quickly scan the room. Mateus is at the far end on a long red couch that faces the rest of the room, one leg crossed over the other, his posture relaxed and friendly. He’s not alone. Another man sits adjacent, his body turned away from me as he speaks to Mateus. All I can see is the back of his reddish-blond hair and his navy suit straining around his thick body. I pray he doesn’t bother looking my way and that I don’t garner attention from either man. I do my best to appear casual on my journey, relieved when Mateus doesn’t make eye contact.

  I move closer and take a nearby chair, my back to them, and then pull out my phone and shoot off a text to Tristan.

  I’m in. They’re here.

  “I’m sorry Simon couldn’t make it,” Mateus says. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know him. He’s…very unique. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone quite like him.”

  Knight laughs loudly. “And you never will. No one really knows Simon. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him with his guard down. But he’s a good person to have on your team.”

  “I can see that. Few men are better connected, or influential, than he seems to be.”

  Knight clears his throat. “He said you were in Miami for the cruise a few weeks ago. I must have missed you.”

  “There were a lot of new faces. An enjoyable night.”

  “You must have made an impression on Simon for him to want to cut you in on what we’ve been working on.”

  Mateus’s silence makes me wish I could see his face. There’s a hint of defensiveness in Knight’s tone, like he may not be completely convinced of Mateus’s worthiness.

  “No one was more surprised than me,” Mateus answers calmly. “He’s very persuasive, though. I’m always looking to diversify when it makes sense.”

  “We’ve been working on this for a long time. We’re talking about years of planning. You’re lucky getting to come in on the tail end of it all.”

  “Sounds like it’s the beginning, not the end.”

&nb
sp; Knight pauses. “Right. Well, Simon has discriminating tastes. He demands the best of everything. Never settles. So if you’re good in Simon’s book, I suppose you’re good in mine.” I hear his chair squeak with movement. “So, is this a go? If there’s one thing Simon isn’t, it’s patient.”

  “He assured me I’d have a few days to consider.”

  “We’ll be out of here in a few days. I was hoping we could nail this down tonight.”

  Knight sounds like he’s the impatient one. He talks fast, like he’s already thinking about the next place he has to be. I’m holding my breath, waiting for Mateus’s answer, when I hear the crinkling of paper.

  “Here’s the deal,” Knight continues. “We’ll start small and scale up once we know things are going well. Hundred-thousand-dollar increments give or take. You let me know the account to wire it into, hold three percent for yourself, and wire the rest into this account in the Cayman Islands. Rinse and repeat.”

  “That part is simple enough. What about the rest? If you’ve been working on this for years, I can’t deny I’m apprehensive to understand the scope of it.”

  Knight sighs, a loud exaggerated sound. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a hard sell?”

  “In so many words.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  Mateus laughs softly. “I was born in a town near the border of the states of São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. Before my parents were killed and my sister and I were forced to go to the city, we would go to a nearby river for fun. It was rocky. The water moved fast, and it was refreshing on a hot day. The biggest thrill was jumping off one of the highest rocks into the deepest part of the river. You had to know the exact spot to jump in, or you’d break your leg on the rocks—or worse. My friends would harass me every time we went, taunting me to jump. I wasn’t afraid, but I’d seen some people get hurt. I wasn’t going to leap in and hope for the best. I wanted to be sure.”

  “So did you do it?”

  “I did eventually. Straight as an arrow, not a scratch.”

  Knight is quiet for a moment. “You have any plans tonight? Because if you’re free, I’d like to show you something.”

  “What might that be?”

  “A piece of the operation. An important one. I could tell you about it, but I think you should see it for yourself. It’s not far. About twenty minutes outside the city. It’s usually locked down for operations, but security is light tonight because of something else we’re working on. It’s a good time to give you the tour without any prying eyes.” He pauses a moment. “Might make you feel a little better about jumping in.”

  “Very well,” Mateus says. “I’ll call my driver.”

  TRISTAN

  I’m pacing down the street, waiting for another update from Isabel, when I hear my name. She’s rushing down the front walk toward me.

  “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

  “They’re leaving,” she says breathlessly. “Knight wants to show Mateus something. They’re taking Mateus’s car.”

  “Do you know where they’re going?”

  “No idea. He says it’s part of the operation. Something that will help Mateus make up his mind.”

  After a quick glance toward the door, I swing my gaze toward the street and the passing cars. In the distance, I see a taxi with its sign lit. I grab Isabel’s hand and take her with me as I hail down the black sedan. We slide into the back, and only then do I realize I have no instructions to give the driver or language skills with which to do it.

  Through the windshield, I see Mateus walking casually toward the curb, Knight beside him. They’re smiling and talking, like all of this is perfectly normal. Ford appears, his frame towering over the other two men before guiding them into the SUV.

  “Suivez cette voiture,” Isabel says, pointing ahead to where Mateus’s car is pulling away.

  Our driver acknowledges her with a dismissive grunt and follows.

  Isabel tugs the wig off her head and runs her hands through her flattened hair.

  “What happened in there?”

  “Mostly small talk. Knight is eager to seal the deal, but Mateus is still holding out. I get the feeling Knight is under instruction to make sure this goes down no matter what. He seemed pretty confident that after tonight, Mateus would be on board.”

  I worry that Mateus might be testing their patience or causing unnecessary suspicion. He’ll have to agree at some point, likely tonight. Coming to Paris was an invitation to move deeper into the Company’s world, one we have to take advantage of. Once he accepts, the rest is up to me.

  After a few minutes, the taxi speeds up. We merge into a congested roundabout that’s loud with motorcycles and car horns. Mateus’s SUV is still in sight when we’re forced to a near stop behind a group of cars slowing down to catch a close-up view of the Arc de Triomphe.

  The taxi driver’s curses meet our ears as he slams his hand on the wheel.

  “Fucking tourists,” I mutter, figuring we have the same frustrations in mind.

  Isabel peers out the window, her eyes lifted to the monstrous glowing arch where a dozen boulevards converge. Despite this delay, the landmark is awe-inspiring, breathtaking in its sheer size and design. I’d love to enjoy her wonder and even share in the moment, but Mateus’s car is quickly moving out of sight.

  “Whatever you do, do not lose that car,” I shout in plain English.

  This earns me a narrow look from the driver before he hits the gas, cuts someone off, and swerves dangerously around the slower-moving vehicles until we’re back where we need to be, thankfully exiting this chaotic cluster.

  As we near the outskirts of the city, the journey becomes less crowded.

  I take note of every sign along every highway, mentally orienting us but having no idea where Knight could be taking Mateus. They’re a couple of cars ahead, but easy enough to follow as we turn down a street lined with glassy corporate buildings.

  As if he knows we’re not supposed to be seen, the taxi driver hangs back, braking as the SUV in front of us does.

  One of the new, sleek buildings is bigger than the others, with angular lines and turquoise-tinted glass sides. Bright-white letters beam from the top-floor windows.

  Chalys France

  Isabel’s jaw drops. “Chalys… My God, they’re everywhere.”

  “They’re a multibillion-dollar company. With everything they’re putting into this, they’ll want Felix available all over the world, along with anything else they’re slinging.”

  Mateus’s car turns into the main entrance, where his driver punches in a code, and they pull through the gates.

  “Go around the block,” I say.

  The driver doesn’t acknowledge me but follows my instructions and takes us to the other side of the building.

  “Drop us here.”

  The driver hits the brakes, lurching us forward abruptly. I shove fifty euros into his hand before he can update the fare. I think we’ve both worn out our welcome with each other. Still, he catches me in the rearview and nods his thanks.

  Once we’re outside, the taxi speeds off. Isabel watches him leave. I can see the wheels turning in her mind. How will we get back?

  Peering up at the building, I’m more concerned with how we’re going to get inside. With Knight, Mateus will be able to walk right in. We’re not that lucky, but I’m not waiting around for him to come back out.

  “Here. Let me help you.” I urge her toward the fence, grateful she’s wearing one of her more practical outfits so I can hoist her easily over the top. She lands on the other side with a soft thud. I follow her over.

  As we cross the parking lot, I spot the loading docks on the south side of the building. All are closed except for the one closest to us, giving us a perfect place to slip inside undetected. We’re nearly at the opening when the sound of a man talking stops me in my tracks. I look back to Isabel and press my finger to my lips.

  I creep slowly forward, peeking inside the bay of the dock to catch
a glimpse of the man. He’s leaning against the threshold of a doorway, a lanyard around his neck.

  He laughs every once in a while. We don’t move, don’t make a sound, until finally he pushes off the jamb and disappears farther inside, his voice fading away with him.

  It’s now or never.

  I take Isabel’s hand and guide her to follow me. I lift her onto the ledge. She stays crouched in place as I move silently forward. Beside the door, a thin coat is draped over a hook. I dip into the pockets and find a ring of keys. Bingo.

  I peer around the edge of the doorway. Not seeing the man, I wave Isabel closer.

  We’re in.

  We move fast then. Down one hall and then another. The building seems to be deserted in the off hours. Wherever Mateus is, he’s probably alone with Knight, hopefully gaining intel and nothing worse. Having access to one of the Chalys facilities is an opportunity I wasn’t expecting.

  Isabel may be holding on to hope the drugs they’re pushing can fill an unmet need, but I’m not convinced. If I can find more vulnerabilities, I will, and this is a great place to start.

  “This place is huge. They could be anywhere,” Isabel says in a hushed voice.

  “The surveillance room should be on the ground floor somewhere. Probably close to the front.”

  “Tristan, here.” Isabel grabs my arm, pointing to a sign on the door we nearly passed.

  Personnel Autorisé Seulement

  “How the hell do you do that?” I mumble, reaching for the keys.

  “Latin-based languages are easier than others. Here, let me try.”

  I hand them to her when a loud slam echoes through the huge open foyer ahead. The echo dies down, leaving an eerie, empty silence.

  “What was that?” she whispers.

  “Not sure. I’m going to investigate.”

  “No, you’re not.” She squeezes my arm, her hazel eyes storming with worry. “We should stay together.”

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” I say in the most even tone I can manage.