“So,” Eva said, “that’s how it all came about?”
“Yes,” Pilar replied quietly.
“Pilar. I am so sorry for what he did to you. If I had heard this story yesterday I would have said that my husband is a good man who made a very grave error in judgment, but with everything I’ve learned about him today, I’m not so sure. I still don’t think he would intentionally hurt you, but I’m not sure how far he’ll go to get what he wants. Apparently, he feels justified in taking advantage of people in order to do his job, and that’s just as bad as setting out to hurt them.”
Pilar finally stopped her pacing and looked at Eva. “This is true, and it is why we must stop my brother from this course he has set. He is doing the same thing, letting nothing get in the way of his revenge on Owen, not even the pain he is causing you and me. I am tired of these men and their games, Mrs. Martin.”
“As am I, Pilar. And please, call me Eva.”
“Eva, let us discuss how we will stop this then. We must show them that they cannot play with our lives like this.”
Eva smiled. She was starting to like this woman. Really like her.
Chapter Twelve
Paris — 4:45 9 September
Owen kicked the stone wall of the cavern hard. “Bloody shite!” He gripped his foot in pain. Hassam’s men had picked him up minutes after he’d found the alarm wiring. Then they’d subjected him to a few needless punches, and taken him at gunpoint to a level even lower than the one he’d been on, finally throwing him into an extremely damp and chilly stone dungeon. Getting caught had been a rookie mistake. He’d known he was heading into the heart of the compound. What he hadn’t counted on was that in his rush to get to Eva he would walk himself right into a dead end passageway where Hassam’s men trapped him.
He sat down on the hard floor and nursed his throbbing toes, finally leaning back against the bumpy rock wall and settling in for however long he’d be trapped. He thought about all those stupid James Bond movies where Bond always had some amazing scheme or secret gadget to help him escape from places like this. In the real world, Owen thought, you quickly learned that sometimes all you could do was wait for your adversary to make his next move.
He looked around at the dismal space. They’d been kind enough to leave some torches lit so he could see fairly well. While the heaps of mortared bodies didn’t seem to be included this far underground, it was extremely moldy and cold. The smell of decay and the glistening water seeping gradually into the walls told him he was probably below the surface level of the Seine. If these walls were disturbed he imagined a great batch of very nasty river water would quickly fill the room.
He wondered if Eva was being held someplace like this and shuddered at the thought. What in the world could his sweet girl do in a situation like this? She had her tough side, certainly, but to be caught in a situation like this … He could only imagine the kinds of things that might be going through her mind right now — one of which was probably, “my husband is a no good lying bastard.”
“Oh, hell, Eva,” he said out loud to the empty room. “I really fucked this up didn’t I?”
“Yes, Agent Martin, you really did,” a deep voice responded.
Owen froze when he recognized the voice of the man who had just brought his whole life down around his ears. Ever the well-trained agent though, he sat calmly and looked across the room through the bars in the doorway to where Hassam stood in the hallway outside the cell.
“Well, good evening Hassam. Lovely spot you’ve got here, I’ve just been admiring the décor. Mid-century death and destruction, yes? Always was one of my favorite eras for furnishings and whatnot.”
Hassam grunted in response. “I’m pleased that some of your wife’s knowledge of interior design has rubbed off on you, Martin. She’s very talented; I would hate to think she was saddled with a man of plebian tastes.”
Hassam’s comment had the desired effect on Owen, as he felt himself start to stand, his teeth nearly popping out of his mouth he ground them so hard.
“You’ll kindly leave my wife out of this, Hassam. Whatever problems you’ve got with me, you and I can handle them like men, am I right?”
Hassam chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, we’ll work them out of course, Agent Martin. However, I am only playing by the rules you set up. My sister … your wife … it appears that our nearest and dearest women are fair game in this particular battle.”
Owen slowly walked over to the bars through which he could view Hassam. He leaned forward, with his face pressed tightly against the cold metal.
“You know, Hassam,” he hissed, “If you keep flashing your balls like that I might have to tuck them back in your knickers for you.”
“Your disgusting posturing doesn’t bother me, Agent Martin,” Hassam returned with a grimace. “I have you in a cell and I have your wife in my possession, which clearly gives me the upper hand. Show your British crudity as much as you want. I know you are a faithless pig, so you’ll not surprise me no matter what you do.”
“Really?” Owen questioned quietly.
“Really,” Hassam responded placing his face directly opposite Owen’s and just as close to the bars.
Owen looked at Hassam briefly before he turned and walked toward the far end of the cell. “How is Pilar, by the way?” he asked nonchalantly.
He could hear Hassam’s burst of angry breath before the man even answered. “Do not say her name,” Hassam growled.
“Why not?” Owen answered as he started to walk back to the bars at the cell entrance. “She certainly said my name enough during our time together. I believe it was ‘Oh, Owen’ and ‘Yes, Owen’ and ‘God, Owen,’ over and over again.”
Hassam’s fingers reached up and wound around the bars, his knuckles turning white with the force of his hold on the cold metal. “I will see you rot in hell if it’s the last thing I do on this earth,” he snarled. He looked at Owen, face dark with fury. The he slowly stepped back from the bars and growled, “That, Agent Martin, was a very poor decision on your part.”
Owen smirked. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold, mate, couldn’t let you cage me like some rookie and not get a little something out of it.”
“Touché, Agent Martin. Touché. Some of my men will be here shortly to escort you to me.”
With that Hassam turned on his heel and marched away down the hall. Owen listened to his retreating footsteps then leaned back against the bars in exhaustion. He knew Hassam’s show of control was unusual and wouldn’t last long. He typically had a hair trigger temper and didn’t hesitate to lash out violently if someone crossed him. Owen’s hope had been that if he got Hassam angry enough, Hassam would open the cell door in order to come at him. Strike one.
• • •
Eva and Pilar had just finished their plans when the guards showed up to take them to Hassam. When they arrived in the large “throne room,” Hassam was sitting in his enormous wooden chair and had two smaller chairs set up next to him.
He gestured to the two women. “Please, Pilar, Mrs. Martin, make yourselves comfortable. We are expecting another guest very shortly.”
Eva’s heart skipped a beat. Was Owen really here? Had he come after her or had Hassam’s men simply kidnapped him as well? She sat in the chair furthest from Hassam and tried to keep her hands from betraying her anxiety with their shaking.
Pilar whispered to Hassam, obviously agitated by his announcement. He continued to look straight ahead and didn’t answer her.
A moment later they heard the large wooden doors at the far side of the room open, and in strode two of Hassam’s soldiers with Owen between them.
He was still wearing the clothes he’d performed in the night before, but his shirt was torn and untucked, and his hands were cuffed in front of him. His slacks were dusty and wrinkled, and his hair was disheveled. He had a shadow of beard growth on his face, but it couldn’t disguise the dark circles under his eyes, nor the large bruise that was forming on the right side of his jaw.<
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Seeing him in this condition, it was all Eva could do not to leap from her seat and go to him, but then she remembered how her gut had twisted when she’d found out about his lies, and she kept her face stoic, her body in the chair. This was not the man she thought she’d married she reminded herself. This was the liar who’d wrecked her life.
As he got closer, Eva saw him flick a glance her way, a look of relief crossing his features briefly. Then he turned back towards Hassam and his eyes lighted on Pilar. Eva saw sadness in his eyes, and it nearly caused her heart to disintegrate inside her chest. In spite of her anger with him, the burning pain of envy sizzled in her gut and she felt her face flush.
Eva worked hard to keep her emotions bottled up, but her body felt stiff and awkward. She couldn’t imagine that her discomfort wasn’t obvious to everyone in the room. When Owen finally stood in front of Hassam, one of the men who had been escorting him gave him a shove. He stumbled, nearly landing in Hassam’s lap. He took a step back, turning to look behind him as his guards eased away.
“Why don’t you try that with my hands unshackled,” he ground out. “We’ll see how your cocks look strung up in Trafalgar Square.”
Eva swallowed hard. Here was the part of her husband she hadn’t known existed. The part that carried guns and started civil wars.
The part that slept with women to get information.
“So happy you could join us, Agent Martin,” Hassam bellowed, his voice echoing off the hard rock walls. “I trust your accommodations were adequate?” He chuckled.
Owen looked at him.
“Isn’t this, how do you say it? Cozy? Yes, isn’t this cozy, Agent Martin? You, your lovely wife, your ex-lover … ”
Pilar sucked in a loud breath as Hassam made his announcement. Eva reached over and took the younger woman’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She noticed Owen’s eyes widen perceptibly as he saw the sign of solidarity between the two women.
Owen turned back to Hassam. “Get on with it will you, mate? I think we all get the picture. Now, what do I need to do to get you to let my wife go? You’ve got me, the Zar has some key information, what else do you want? The keys to the kingdom? You’ll need to ask Buckingham for those.”
“I want your heart, Mr. Martin, your very soul, and I think I have it sitting right here with me, do I not?”
Owen looked over at Eva and in that moment he let his guard down, and she saw every bit of love he’d ever shown her come flowing out. In that one look she felt a burning need charge the space around her. He stared at her, and she was paralyzed by his intensity, frozen by the depth of feeling. She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. Owen turned back to Hassam.
“All right, mate, I’m out of chips. I can’t bluff my way out of this one, I don’t have a backup plan, and I’m sure as hell not in any position to fight through it. You’re right, you’ve got me. What the hell do you want now?”
Hassam smiled slowly. “Excellent, at last we come to the table.”
Owen’s chin lifted slightly, and he looked Hassam in the eye. He might have admitted he was beaten, but he would never act like he’d been conquered.
“First, Agent Martin,” Hassam began. “I want an apology to my sister for your filthy abuse of her.”
“Hassam, that’s not … ” Pilar began.
Hassam held up his hand, palm out towards her. “Don’t, Pilar. I will not tolerate you defending this animal.”
Pilar sighed as Owen turned to her. He swallowed once and then glanced at Eva out of the corner of his eye. “Miss Khalil,” he began in an uncharacteristically gruff voice. “I can honestly tell you that our … relationship is one of the greatest regrets of my life.”
Pilar’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed in anger. Owen quickly stepped toward her seat.
“No please, I don’t mean it that way. I regret our relationship because it was terribly unfair of me to get involved with you. As I told you at the time, I truly believed you were in your brother’s business, and I would never have pursued a civilian if I’d known that’s what you were.”
Hassam cleared his throat loudly. “However,” Owen continued, casting an angry look at Hassam. “The fact that I didn’t know you were a civilian was sloppy work on my part. I didn’t conduct my investigations adequately and I know why I didn’t.”
Pilar blinked at him, and Hassam leaned forward as if to hear better. Eva felt her stomach flip in anticipation of what might come next.
“Miss Khalil, you are a very beautiful woman, and the simple truth of the matter is, I wanted to pursue you, so I allowed myself to believe that you were involved in Hassam’s business, and I didn’t look into the matter further. It was wrong and it was selfish, and your brother is right that it was a violation of the way we operate in our business.”
Eva slumped back in her seat, hands trembling, her heart lurching inside her chest. She looked over at Pilar who sat with glassy eyes, a hand over her mouth as if to prevent any words from inadvertently coming out. Meanwhile, Hassam gripped the arms of his chair with white knuckles and breathed heavily through his nose.
Owen turned to Hassam. “If that apology is adequate, I’d like to request that you release my wife now. I believe the humiliation is about as complete as it can be.”
Hassam stood up out of his chair and took a menacing step toward Owen. Leaning down into the British agent’s face he snarled, “Your humiliation has only just begun Agent Martin, and it will not end until I say so, or until you end.”
“Enough! Enough I say!” Pilar rose, tiny fists clenched, eyes narrowed on her brother in fury. Hassam flinched and turned to look at her, while Owen’s eyes moved to Eva, who was starting to stand herself.
“Enough, Hassam,” Pilar repeated more quietly. “This isn’t going to change anything. Can’t you see that you are not helping me? You are shaming me. He has said he is sorry, and I accept his apology. He did not force me to do anything, Hassam. I chose it. I chose it and I am sorry. I’m sorry mostly that I have hurt you so deeply, and that you feel this is somehow your fault.”
Hassam’s laughter was mirthless as it echoed through the cavernous room. “My fault? No dear sister, that is the point here, it is his fault,” he said, pointing a finger in Owen’s face. “He has just admitted that he wanted you and ignored decency and honor. I cannot stop until I have extracted justice for you.”
Pilar sighed and looked over at Eva who was now watching the two siblings argue like she was at a tennis match.
“Hassam, when will you ever understand? There is no justice to get for me. I do not require it. It will not change anything. It will not make me feel better, it will not make you feel better, it will not change what happened. I am over it, and this,” she gestured around the room and then at Owen, “this is not helping anything.”
Hassam visibly shook off her remarks then gestured to one of his men who walked closer. “You. Take him back to his cell and then come to me in my quarters.” He turned to Pilar and Eva. “Thank you for your company ladies. I will expect to see both of you at supper this evening. You may return to the women’s quarters now.” Having dismissed them he turned to watch as his men led Owen away.
“All right,” Pilar said loudly. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve left me no choice, Hassam.”
Hassam turned to her, rage etched on his harsh features. “What now, woman?” he roared.
Pilar didn’t even twitch at his tone. She looked at him steadily. “If you do not release Mr. Martin immediately, I will tell our mother everything that has happened.”
The entire room was silent as Hassam simply stared at his petite sister. “You — you will what?” he asked incredulously.
“You heard me. I will tell our mother that you allowed me to go into casinos and nightclubs and markets without a hijab. I will tell her that you keep this … this place in Paris and that you kidnapped Mrs. Martin. All of it, Hassam, all of it.” She tossed her head and crossed her arms.
Owen’
s laughter rang out in the great room. Peals of it, guffaws, chortles, and finally gasps as he bent over at the waist, trying to catch his breath. When he finally stood up, Hassam had retreated to his chair and was leaning over his knees with his head in his hands.
“Good God, if I wasn’t here to see it I’d never believe it. She’s going to tattle on you? To your mum? It’s bloody fantastic!”
Hassam looked up at his nemesis and groaned, “Shut up, Martin.” Then he turned to his sister. “You wouldn’t really, would you?”
“Oh, yes, brother, I certainly would,” she replied glaring at him.
“And she is not the only one who will talk about what goes on here,” a voice came pealing through the room.
Owen, Eva and the two Khalil siblings turned simultaneously toward the door where Pilar’s female companions stood in solidarity.
As they walked further into the room the woman in the lead continued, “We will tell our own families that you allow us to accompany our men while they travel the world committing crimes. We will tell them that you kidnap innocent American women and that you pay no attention to what we are doing during the days and nights.”
Hassam looked slowly around the room as the faces of his soldiers reflected his own horror.
One of the younger women stepped forward and said in a quiet voice, “I will tell my father that you and my brother brought me here and have been so preoccupied that I have been seeing Muhad for weeks without a chaperone and we have been playing strip poker with Pilar and Jamal in the evenings.”
Hassam’s eyes bulged in his face and he turned to Pilar slowly. She looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. “I told you we were bored, but would you listen?”
“Boss?” a voice came from behind Owen. “You can’t let them do this,” the man continued, his hands trembling with fear. “Do you know what my father will do if he finds out Tila has been taking her clothes off with Muhad … who I will take great pleasure in beating to death after this is over,” the man continued, snarling at his companion standing a few feet away.
Love, Lies, and British Spies Page 9