by Pema Donyo
“Tourism doesn’t reach a peak until July. Consider yourself lucky.”
“Still.” The Trevi Fountain crawled with tourists, a haven for pickpockets and a purgatory for locals. The clicking of cameras was the main sound heard beside the fountain, that and the laugh of tourists who threw coins behind their backs “the Roman way.”
Marge donned sunglasses and cargo pants this time, blending in with the tourists. She lifted the sunglasses to pass her gaze over the sculptures carved into the crevices of the Trevi.
“Adrian and I decided our demonstration outline. The target is Croyden’s brother, but don’t warn him yet. We still need Croyden as a client to find out more about the contract negotiation.” I pulled out papers from my bag and handed them over to Marge. “Those are the details Adrian and I have sorted out for Croyden, including copies of the official contract forms for executives and for clients.”
“Understood.” Marge drummed her fingers against the concrete we sat on, straight in front of the fountain. “And how is the partnership between you and Mr. King?”
A blush crept into my cheeks. “Fine.”
Marge gave a curt nod. “Then all is proceeding as planned. The board of directors want to know if you need Tristan to be more involved in any way, if there is any way he can be of greater use to you.”
“No, I have enough information on my own so far. Tristan needs to convince Croyden I’m good enough for the job. I know Professor George put in a good word, but for a client this important, wouldn’t a trained executive be better?”
Marge raised an eyebrow. “Do you not think you are qualified enough to handle this contract?”
“No, this has nothing to do with qualifications.” I spotted a scrawny Italian boy looking at my bag like a dog salivating at meat. I picked up the bag, away from the pickpocket’s reach and into my lap. “I guess Tristan put in a good word for me and Croyden picked me, or something.”
“Be grateful. I know the CIA is grateful for the information you’re providing us.”
I checked my watch—later than I thought. I stood up with my bag in tow, ready to catch my next appointment. “Anything else, Marge?”
“Yes.” She placed her sunglasses back over her eyes. “There are still investigations into the disappearance of the family you saved a month ago. None of the investigations have been authorized by the CIA or FBI. The CIA believes CO may still be looking for answers.”
“But there’s no proof I’m responsible.” I held my chin up and brought my elbow over the end of my bag to protect against any other pickpockets. “No one knows except you and my informant.”
“Let’s keep it this way. Stay alert.”
“I will!” I walked away from Marge and toward the road.
I relaxed once the group of tourists thinned out at the main road. The narrow cobblestone streets of Rome weren’t as crowded as the main streets. No one ever crossed this road, except for the people who lived in the luxury apartments above. The shutter boxes varied in as many colors as the buildings themselves, ranging from pink to green to beige. There was no end to the rainbow of paint along the walls.
Several minutes passed before I noticed the footsteps behind me. I stiffened as soon as I heard the noise.
I quickened my pace.
The footsteps behind me quickened.
I slowed down.
The footsteps slowed down.
Aw, shoot.
I increased the length of my stride, running now, as fast as my legs carried me. The person behind me broke out into a run as well, on my heels along the streets of Rome.
Bang! Bang!
I ducked as the bullets whizzed at the plaster wall in front of me. A dog in one of the apartments above began barking, and someone yelled in Italian to “lower the volume down there.”
I raced ahead, sticking to the path I knew and escaping the gunman at the same time. I tried, once or twice, to catch a glimpse of my assailant over my shoulder. The attempts were useless. All my concentration was needed to stay ahead of the bullets slamming into the walls on either side of me or the odd ricochet threatening to lop my head off.
My fingers itched to reach for the gun tucked against my thigh, but there was no time. Bullets flew past me no longer. The footsteps stopped too. But I wasn’t about to waste any time for a surprise attack. I hurtled my body faster down the road, in a race to reach my destination.
I made out Adrian’s shape waiting for me outside his own luxury apartment block. He leaned against the white wall, the only white building in the neighborhood. It was a beacon of light to me, a refuge.
“What happened?” Adrian grabbed me as soon as I reached him. The strength in his arms kept me from running further, even while the adrenaline in my body demanded flight. He pulled me close against him. “What’s going on?”
“Back there! There’s someone trying to shoot me!”
Adrian let go of me and ran forward. He disappeared around the antiquated street corner for a few moments until he re-emerged, his brow furrowed and his mouth twisted into a slight frown. “There’s no one there.”
“But I heard someone! I saw the bullets.” I tried to slow my panting and calm myself down. Deep breaths, Jane. “Whoever was trying to shoot me just left! Someone was following me.”
Adrian placed both of his hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay; it’s going to be okay.” He brought my head toward his chest and smoothed over my hair.
I jerked away. “It’s not okay. Someone’s after me.”
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this, I swear.”
Guilt wracked me. As if Adrian didn’t have enough to do already! “It’s okay. I was panicking. Maybe it’s the last time.”
Adrian shook his head. He glimpsed another look at the road behind us. “Someone’s trying to hurt you? I’m not taking any chances.”
“But you already have so much work to sort out. I’ll figure this out.”
A normal person would have called the police, I know. But CO agents and executives never trusted the government law force. Everything had to be taken into your own hands.
“Speaking of work…” I lifted up my bag. “I’ve got the paperwork which needs your signature before the bombs ship over from California. And I’ve picked a few possible venues, which we can run over to sort out the placement of the weapons.”
“No. Look, we’re not done talking about this.” Adrian lifted the bag out of my hands and placed it on the ground. I made a sound of protest, but Adrian ignored me. “I think I know who may have been following you.”
“Who?”
“There’s a spy in CO.” His jaw set into a hard line of worry. “Remember when we landed at the family’s bookshop, and then there was no one there? The night Lucy was injured? Someone knew we were going to be there.” Excitement rose in his voice, his train of thought speeding faster and faster. “Those were FBI agents there—not just any private organization. Jane, someone’s spying for the government within CO.”
Oh dear.
I wasn’t sure how to react first—deny it all, or agree with every word he said. “How can you be sure?”
“I’ve been doing an investigation for CO. I had executives talk to the family’s relatives. I had everyone interviewed and their day-to-day schedule pieced together. Nobody they knew had ever informed them. It had to be the government.” Adrian’s eyes flashed. “What if someone’s trying to destroy your career with CO?”
“Who would want me destroyed?”
“I don’t know. But I have to find out who the spy is. Can you imagine someone inflicting so much damage on CO?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah, it’d be terrible.”
“How can someone take everything CO’s given them and betray CO? Don’t they understand CO’s the worst enemy to have?”
“Well, obviously the spy doesn’t think he’s going to be caught.”
“Oh, he’ll be caught all right.” Adrian’s fists clenched. He motioned for me to follow him as he strode to
ward the main road. “I’m not letting anyone get away with stealing information from CO and hurting you.”
My heart fluttered. “Hurting me?”
Adrian hailed a taxi and opened the door for me. I stepped inside, checking to make sure I had my bag first. Adrian gave instructions to the driver, and then he concentrated his attention back to me.
“Of course I care.” He shifted in his seat. “You’re my business colleague.”
“Oh, yes of course.” Stupid girl. His every word both raised my hopes and then immediately crushed them. There had been the overly long glances, the slight touches, the words which seemed to say he still cared about me. But then came the formality of his, the cold barrier going back up between us whenever the atmosphere became anything but business.
“You’re important to the contract.”
“Yes.”
The passionate and fearful atmosphere between us limped back into a lame silence. I suppressed a sigh. So much for hoping he still cared about me.
****
There was no way this was happening. Not on an international call, halfway across the world, and without any real rational reason.
Lucy had admitted she was wrong.
“Well, as long as he’s not seeing anyone else.”
“I thought you told me to forget about him!” I fell back against my bed. The back of my head sunk against the overly fluffy hotel pillows.
“Maybe I was wrong!” Lucy’s voice sing-songed over the speaker, gleeful and all too happy to take back her own words. “Hey, you brought up Adrian first.”
“I thought Emma said he was dangerous.” I removed the speaker feature and raised the receiver to my ear. “Emma told me to stay away from him and you were scared, remember?”
“She did say something along those lines.” Lucy hesitated. I could see her curling her hair in thought, the bright pink bow in her hair keeping it all in place. “I wondered why he was too dangerous for you and not for her. Did you meet anyone else while you were there? An Italian boy, maybe?”
Tristan’s face flashed before me. “One, I guess. But I still love Adrian, Luce. The Italian guy kissed me and all I could think about was Adrian.”
“Some cute Italian boy kissed you?” Lucy squealed. “I would love a cute Italian boy to kiss me. Not that Dave isn’t perfect, of course. But how wonderful!”
“No, Luce, I knew then I still wasn’t over Adrian.”
“Then you have your answer, don’t you? Be with Adrian.”
I flipped over, my right cheek flat against the pillows. My voice sounded muffled with half of my mouth against the pillow and the other against the phone. “It’s not simple.”
“Love’s never simple.”
I jumped off the bed and walked toward the mirror. My dark hair hung straight and glossy against my head instead of its usual dry waves. The black dress I wore was brand new, the tag removed a few hours ago. “Even if I still like him, if he doesn’t like me anymore it doesn’t matter. He sees me as a business partner.”
“What about the Italian guy, then? When was the last time you saw him?”
Oh wow, when was the last time I’d seen him? The weeks flew by in a predictable routine of meetings with Marge and business negotiations with Adrian. I hadn’t seen Tristan or Croyden since the parking lot incident nearly a month ago.
“Hello? Jane, you still there?”
I snapped back to reality. “Still here, Luce.” I checked the time on the clock. “Listen, do you think my black dress looks better with the pink lipstick or the red?”
“The red, definitely.” Lucy giggled. “Are you going on a date tonight, then?”
I coughed. “What? No way. It’s a business meeting.”
“And you’re wearing a black dress and lipstick?”
“Maybe.”
“A business meeting with who, may I ask?”
“It doesn’t matter. How’s Dave doing?” I set the phone back into the stand, turning the speaker feature back on.
She talked about Dave for a while, describing how great he was to her and how much fun they were having. They weren’t having any issues. They were happy together.
No complications; no lies. I envied her more than she knew.
I opened my container of red lipstick and started to apply it. So I’d straightened my hair and wore my tightest dress. A dress didn’t mean this was a date. It was, however, the last meeting I was going to have with Adrian to decide the details for the demonstration. The venue was decided, the weapons were finalized, and all we needed was one final meeting before the practice run.
I unscrewed the top of my mascara case and leaned toward the mirror. The brush swept up my lashes, coating the tops. So maybe I was wearing some makeup. Makeup didn’t mean I was trying to impress Adrian.
Lucy took a break from her description of her last date with Dave to ask the question I’d been waiting for. “What if Adrian doesn’t want to be with you? Not saying he’s going to say that, or he doesn’t want to, but what if…”
“Then I’ll be fine.” I stepped back from the mirror. I didn’t need any more makeup. If I wanted to impress Adrian, it was going to be with what I said to him about the contract—not the amount of paint on my face. “I can survive, whether or not he wants to be with me.”
The sound of applause permeated the air. I realized Lucy was clapping for me over the phone. Maybe her speaker was on, too.
It definitely was, because then Dave’s voice entered the call.
“Lucy? Come back to bed.”
I smirked at my reflection. “Hey there Luce, think I better end the call now.”
“Oh.” I imagined Lucy’s blush at being caught. “Sorry! I’ll call you again next week.”
“Please do.” My finger hovered over the “END CALL” button. “Bye, Lucy.”
She hung up, and I pressed the button to end the call. So Lucy was happy in love at last. She deserved it more than anyone else I knew. There were no problems in her relationship. No espionage or murder.
I checked the time again—time to go. As I picked up my black bag, the necessary papers rustled inside.
The taxi spent fifteen minutes getting to the warehouse Adrian wanted to meet at. I paid the taxi driver using the stipend CO wired to my account. There was so much money I didn’t even know what to do with it all. Well, the dress had been one of the items, I thought as I tried to pull the tight material down. Maybe it sat a little higher than I’d thought when I’d bought it. The taxi pulled away, leaving me standing alone in front of the warehouse on the outskirts of the main city of Rome.
I shivered in the cool December air, my knees knocking against each other. The wind made me wobble a bit on my stiletto pumps. I took a deep breath, determined to conduct myself as professional as possible. If Adrian wanted a pure professional relationship, then professional was what we’d have.
I pulled out the key to the warehouse as I walked closer to the door. I stopped, staring at the door in front of me. It was already open, slightly ajar. Even the lights were on. Maybe Adrian had forgotten to close up behind him.
My heels clicked on the concrete floor as I stepped inside. “Adrian, I’m here.”
The sound of footsteps approached, and I quickened my pace. “Hey, remember how you told me last meeting you thought we couldn’t time the artillery fire correctly? I figured out a way to solve the problem.”
“Great, kid. Let’s hope he can solve this one too.”
The man in front of me raised his gun and aimed it right at me.
I gasped.
“Tristan?”
Tristan sneered at me, sinister and cold. “Sorry you had to be involved in this, kid.” He inclined his head as he inspected me from head to toe. “Was your outfit for him?”
“What are you doing?” My body’s instincts urged me to attack him, but my brain told me to stay still. Why was he aiming a gun toward me? We were on the same side!
I whirled my head around. Three tall, broad-shouldered men l
oomed toward me, their fists clenched and ready to throw a punch. I screamed right before one of the fists made contact with my flesh.
My head hit the floor first as I slammed into the concrete. Blinding pain surged through me. Shadows swirled before my eyes before darkness descended over my vision.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Final Negotiations
Message:
Hello Miss Lu, just making sure we are still meeting at the warehouse at 9:30 pm tomorrow night. The meeting shall take place at the same warehouse as before—I am not taking any chances of another attack happening. Until the time for Croyden’s demonstration, this should be our meeting place. I care for your safety as your fellow business colleague. I want to thank you for your professionalism and hard work throughout the negotiations so far. You will become a fine CO executive.
Sincerely,
Adrian King
CEO Elect
CIA agents loved tying people up.
Or so formed my first thought once I regained consciousness, my wrists tied behind the chair and my ankles tied to the chair legs. I tried to stretch my neck… and my temple made contact with the muzzle of a gun.
Well, that was new.
I tensed as I made eye contact with one of the large men who’d attacked me. My head still ached, and my punched cheek felt puffy and swollen. I did a quick mental scan of my body below and wiggled my fingers and toes. All right, no paralysis in spite of the head trauma, no gashes or wounds.
I gulped as my gaze drifted back to the gun held to my head. No wounds yet, anyway. My eyes flickered from the barrel of the gun to the person across from me.
Tristan sat in a chair identical to mine, except he wasn’t bound and had significantly less life at stake. One of his legs crossed over the other, and his right arm draped over the knee of the crossed leg. He held a gun in the right hand and an expression of pain on his face.