by Liz Wolfe
“Sorry, chap. Didn’t mean to interrupt your—” Zoe could see the man’s throat move as he swallowed, then backed out and closed the door.
“There, we’ve got it.” Drake pulled the flash drive from the port and closed down the laptop. Let’s get out of here.”
“That man—”
“What? You recognized him?” Drake asked.
“No! But he thought—he assumed we were—that I was—”
“So, he has an amusing story to tell about the party and we have the information we came for.” Drake shrugged. “We need to mingle a bit and then we can leave.”
He was right, damn it. He’d done exactly what needed to be done. He’d saved them from discovery, insuring they got what they’d come for. It would have been easier for her to accept if he hadn’t looked so damned pleased with himself. Zoe stood and straightened her gown.
“Still, you weren’t the one who looked like a slut.”
Drake grinned at her. “Oh, come on. Wasn’t it worth it just to see the look on his face?”
Zoe frowned in an attempt to keep her lips from twitching into a smile. The man’s expression had been funny. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
14
January 7, Florence, Italy
ZOE MOVED THE EGGS AROUND on her plate until they were too cold to eat. She lifted the delicate china cup of tea, but it was cold, as well. When she and Drake had returned last night, he had disappeared into Weisbaum’s office and she had climbed the marble staircase to her bedroom, only to lie awake for several hours. She had one more job to do for the Order. Then what?
They would kill her.
There was no doubt in her mind. The remaining job was the only thing standing between her and certain death. If she walked away, her mother and brother would be killed. Of course, the Order planned to kill them eventually anyway. She took a deep breath, trying to still the panic. Everything was closing in on her. She’d lost all control of the situation. She’d been cut off from the CIA. Drake might have thrown his lot in with the Order. Even Logan seemed to think the
Order only wanted to make the world a better place.
“You’re looking glum today.” Zoe looked up to watch Logan pour a cup of coffee. He sat down, propped his elbows on the table, and let his head rest in one hand.
“You don’t look real perky yourself. Reconsidering your affiliation with the Order?”
He pushed his coffee away, untouched. “It’s a little warm in here. You want to go outside for a bit?”
“Sure.” Zoe followed him to glass-paned French doors that led to the flagstone courtyard. They walked away from the mansion to a small bench. Logan propped a foot on the seat and rested his forearm on his knee.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I was thinking about what you said about the Order abducting your mother and brother.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought of little else myself.”
“I really don’t think they’d harm them, Zoe.”
“I have to disagree.” She had better things to do than sit around and listen to whatever Logan had to say about these people.
“Uncle Giovanni told me they’re working on developing an alternate energy source. He’s really excited about it. Says it’ll end our dependence on fossil fuels.”
“But at what cost?”
“Look, I’m just saying that maybe they aren’t all bad. Maybe they’re just a little over the top when it comes to achieving their goals.”
“A little over the top? Kidnapping people and holding them hostage to get what they want? That’s way over the top in my book.”
“I know it looks bad, but somehow I just don’t think they intend to hurt them. Or you.”
“Fine. You believe what you want to about them. I hope you’re right. I hope everything they’re doing is in the best interests of mankind. But I just don’t believe it.”
Logan raised his hands in resignation. “Whatever. I’ll leave you to your new partner.”
Zoe turned around to see Drake heading across the courtyard toward them. He waved casually as Logan walked past him, then joined Zoe, dropping down onto the bench. Zoe watched Logan walk back to the villa and wondered why he had changed so much in such a short time.
“Last night was a success,” Drake said.
“I’m sure your people are pleased about that.”
“They aren’t my people.”
“Really? It certainly looks like you’ve tossed the CIA aside for the Order.”
“That’s not the case. But there’s something I have to do here that isn’t CIA business.”
Zoe shrugged. “All I know is that they have my mother and brother and I need to get them out before I do the last job.”
“What makes you think they have them?”
“Weisbaum told me. They discovered I’m working for the CIA and decided they needed to insure that my loyalties switched sides.”
“I see. I can find out if they’re all right. Would that help?” Drake asked.
“Why would you do that?”
“Maybe to convince you I’m not one of the bad guy?”
“I need to know where they are.”
“If I’m correct, they’re right here.”
“Where?” If her mother and Matt were on the premises, it would make getting them out easier.
“Top floor of the west wing. Of course, I can’t be sure, but I noticed brand-new padlocks on a couple of the guest rooms. That kind of hardware tends to stand out in a seventeenth-century villa.”
Zoe looked up at the third floor of the west wing, then jerked her head back. Anyone could be watching them from the mansion. “Where exactly?”
“My room is at the end of the hall; the padlocked rooms are right before it.”
“Which side of the hall?” she demanded.
Drake hesitated. “Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“You’re going to try to rescue them, aren’t you?”
“Oh, am I that obvious?” Zoe rolled her eyes. “Of course, I’m going to try to rescue them. I can’t leave as long as they’re here, and after the next job the Order won’t have any use for me or them. You do the math.”
“It’ll never work. You won’t be able to get them out.”
“Which side of the hall?”
Drake sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“Look, I’m going to do this whether you tell me or not.”
“This side, second floor.” He jerked his head slightly to indicate the direction. “But you can’t do that, Zoe.”
“Oh, I assure you, I can.”
“Wait. Just give me a couple of days to get my business taken care of and I’ll help you.”
“That’s a nice offer. But I don’t think I can afford to wait.”
“What if they catch you? I’ve seen a guard in the hallway often enough.”
“They won’t.” Zoe squared her shoulders. “And if they do, they aren’t going to do anything to me until after I complete the last job.” She shrugged. “I have nothing to lose.”
January 9, Florence, Italy
Zoe closed the cell phone she’d taken from the maid and slipped it in her pocket. This was the biggest job she’d ever tried to pull off. Stealing jewelry and art was one thing; stealing people was another. She slipped out from behind the shed and strolled back to the mansion wondering if the maid had realized her phone was missing. The maid in question was at the top of the stairs when Zoe walked in. She started up the stairs as the maid descended and when they were just a couple of steps from each other, she pretended to stumble. The maid automatically reached out for her and Zoe slipped the cell phone into her apron pocket. She apologized to the maid and continued up to her room. She’d gotten everything set. All she had to do now was deliver her mother and brother.
She dropped onto the bed and rolled onto her back. She stretched her legs and then her arms, forcing her mind to calm and quiet. She needed to rest while she could. She se
t a time in her mind to awaken, then let her thoughts drift, concentrating on relaxing the muscles in her feet, then working up her legs and torso. When she reached her neck, her thoughts shimmered into dreams.
When she woke, it was one in the morning. The next hour was spent changing her clothes, stretching, and checking her equipment. A few minutes after two, she turned off the light in her room and slipped out the door. The mansion was quiet and she hoped that meant everyone was sound asleep.
She ran silently down the hallway to the marble stairs. The only light came from the moon shining through the tall windows. At the bottom of the stairs, she glanced around, relieved to see no one about. She opened the closet door where the master control for the alarm system was housed. Pulling the cover off the wall-mounted unit, she held a penlight in her teeth while she plucked at the wires. When she had the correct pair, she cut them with her wire cutters, then pulled out a third wire and snipped it. With the red and black wires twisted together, she snipped the yellow wire, effectively short-circuiting the entire alarm system.
Zoe trotted across the entry area and behind the marble stairs to the French doors that led to the courtyard. She twisted the knob and held her breath as she pulled the door open. No alarm, no floodlights. So far, so good. She looked up at the windows and silently thanked Drake for telling her that a guard checked the doors every couple of hours. Otherwise, she’d have planned to pick the padlocks because that would have been easier than this.
She opened the door to the shed, wincing at the screech of rusty hinges. Hoisting the aluminum ladder on her shoulder, she carefully backed out of the shed. She skirted close to the house, rounded the corner, and leaned the ladder against the wall directly under the last window. It didn’t matter if the window led to her mother’s room or her brother’s. She had to get them both out tonight. She scurried up the ladder, pulled a glove from her fanny pack, and slipped it onto her hand, then used the heavy wrench she’d brought to break the window.
The room was dark when she climbed inside, but leaving the drapes open gave her enough moonlight to see a still form in the bed that was centered on the opposite wall. She crossed to the bed and pulled the blanket back. Her mother. She still hadn’t moved, which worried Zoe. She shook Mira’s shoulder. Nothing. She placed her fingers on her mother’s neck and felt the slow but steady thump of her heart. They must have drugged her. Zoe pulled the covers back, hoping the cool air would rouse her. When that had no effect, she went to the small bathroom and wet a towel with cold water. Bathing her face and neck woke her, but she was still groggy.
“Hi, Zoe. Oh, bebé. I’ve missed you so much,” Mira mumbled in a mix of English and Italian, then rolled onto her stomach.
Damn. She was too drugged to even know where she was, much less that she needed to leave. Zoe placed the cold, wet towel on her mother’s back and went back to the window. She sent up a prayer that her brother hadn’t been as drugged. Hopefully, the wet towel would wake Mira up enough to get her out by the time Zoe came back.
Zoe slipped out the window and down the ladder. She moved the ladder twenty feet and positioned it under the next window, then climbed up. This room was dark, too, when she broke the glass and climbed into the room. The only difference in the rooms was the style of furniture. Zoe moved to the bed and pulled back the blanket.
Matteo was snoring softly. She shook him but got no response. She tried the wet towel trick. Still no response. Damn!
There was no way she could get both of them out of the mansion in their current state. Especially her brother. He was too tall and too heavy for her to lift. Which left her mother. Zoe thought she might have a shot at getting her mother out. Especially if the wet towel had helped wake her up at all.
Zoe moved to the small ornate desk and opened a drawer. As she’d expected, it was filled with note-paper, pens, and envelopes, traditional accessoriesin guest rooms. She quickly scribbled a note letting Matteo know that he was being drugged and that she would be back for him. Now where to leave it? Anyone who came into the room would see it if she left it on the dresser or nightstand. Under his pillow? What if he didn’t move his pillow? No. It had to be in a place that no one else would look, but he would be sure to find it.
Oh, geez, was anything ever easy? She folded the note and pulled the blanket back. Matteo wore cotton pajama bottoms but no shirt. Hoping she didn’t run into anything that she’d rather not have intimate knowledge of, Zoe slipped the note inside his pants. She pulled the blanket back over his chest and hurried back down the ladder.
Even without looking at her watch, she knew it was a few minutes before three. Years of precisely timed jobs with her father had implanted a constantly running clock in her mind. She moved the ladder and climbed back to her mother’s room.
Mira had rolled onto her back. Probably in an effort to rid herself of the cold, wet towel on her back. Zoe pulled the towel from underneath her and ran more cold water on it in the bathroom. She laid the towel on her mother’s chest and torso and shook her shoulder.
“What?” Mira’s voice was soft and slurred but it was more than Zoe had gotten before.
“Mom. Wake up. You have to wake up.” She shook her shoulder again, then lightly slapped her mother’s cheeks. Mira’s eyes flew open.
“Zoe!” Mira’s hand lifted to cup Zoe’s cheek. “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you.” Mira’s voice slurred and her eyes fluttered closed again.
“Mom. Wake up. Now. You have to wake up. I have to get you out of here.” Zoe used the wet towel to wipe her mother’s face and neck. Mira stirred again. Zoe pulled her mother’s arm over her shoulder and lifted her to a sitting position. She twisted so she could draw Mira’s legs over the edge of the bed, then hoisted her up to her feet.
Her mother hung limply against her. Zoe slapped her cheeks again, harder this time. “Mom! You have to wake up!” Placing an arm around her mother’s waist, Zoe forced her across the room and back. After half an hour, Mira was stumbling along beside Zoe almost as much as she was being dragged. It was progress.
“Zoe?”
“Yes, Mom?”
“Where’s Matteo? You should …” Mira seemed to lose her train of thought.
“It’s okay, Mom. Just keep walking.” Zoe was so relieved that her mother was to the point of talking that she had to blink back tears. It was almost four. The car would wait as long as necessary, but the in-house staff would start to stir in a couple of hours. She needed to get her mother safely away before then.
By five fifteen, Zoe knew she couldn’t wait any longer. What the hell had they given her mother and brother? She led Mira over to the open window. It was now or never.
“Mom, we’re going to leave now. We have to go down a ladder. Can you do that?”
Mira nodded. “I can do anything.” She smiled and touched Zoe’s cheek. “For you.”
Zoe hoped that was true. She placed the towel on the window to cover any bits of glass and maneuvered herself out to the ladder. She forced her mother to sit on the windowsill and pulled her legs up and over.
“I’m right here, Mom. Just lean on me. I’ll make sure you get down all right.” Zoe braced herself to take her mother’s weight but still faltered when that weight fell against her. Keeping her hands on the rails of the ladder to protect her mother, Zoe stepped down to the next rung, then positioned her mother’s feet on the rung above hers. The twenty feet to the ground seemed like a mile or more, but finally Zoe felt her feet touch the ground. She pulled her mother off the ladder and let her sink down to the ground, leaning her back against the wall.
“I’ll be right back. Okay, Mom?” When Mira nodded, Zoe collapsed the ladder and trotted across theyard to the shed. When she returned, Mira was still sitting up and her eyes were open, which was a good sign. Zoe pulled her mother to a standing position and wrapped an arm around her waist. They stumbled across the yard to the French doors. Zoe half-carried her mother into the mansion, across the parquet floor to the entryway, and out the front door. She stop
ped for a minute to catch her breath, then hauled her down the long walkway to the street. Headlights flashed and a car glided up the street, stopping in front of them. The door opened and Zoe shoved her mother inside, then followed.
“Where’s your brother?” Ethan asked as the car pulled away.
“Too drugged to get him out. I’ll have to do it later.” Zoe leaned back against the luxurious leather seat of the limo and closed her eyes. “I don’t know what they used but it took me all this time just to get her to a point where I could get her out of the room.”
“No one said they were playing nice, Zoe.”
“I know.” She opened her eyes and rolled her head over to look at Ethan. Mira’s head lolled against his shoulder.
“Thanks for coming,” she said.
“Zoe, I think it’s time we pulled you out.”
“Not yet. There’s still too much we need to know.”
“We’ll find all that out after we take them down.”
“Ethan, the Order is a lot bigger than we ever thought. You saw those photos. And I think that was just a small gathering of them. We take down the Triumvirate right now and all it does is put them on the defensive. They’ll burrow underground and come up later.”
Ethan looked like he as going to argue, but Mira interrupted him.
“Zoe.” Mira lifted her head from Ethan’s shoulder and blinked. “What happened? Where’s Matteo?”
“It’s okay, Mom. This is Ethan Calder. He’s with the CIA.”
Mira turned and smiled at Ethan, then looked back at Zoe. “Where’s Matteo?”
“I wasn’t able to get him out—yet.”
“But you took me?” Suddenly her mother was wide awake. “What were you thinking? You should have gotten him out!”
“I didn’t have a choice, Mom.”
“You always have a choice! I can’t believe you left poor Matteo behind.”
Zoe felt her face grow warm from the heat in her blood. She tried to tamp it down, then gave up.