During the kiss he’d thought to have her hooked, but her last look had spoken volumes. She’d neither lead him to Cole nor to the list.
The player in him felt provoked to pick up the gauntlet, she’d thrown in his face. The business man in him though didn’t appreciate a distraction. Not, if it was about the Organization.
Letting out a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair and plunked down onto his office chair. This wasn’t the time for games. He had to start thinking about the next steps.
Ally didn’t trust him, that was written all over her face. He almost had the impression she’d never learned to sham. After all, he thought he’d noticed something like regret in her eyes. He could build on that.
Smiling, he leaned back in his chair. Even if she’d fought his charm offensive, she wasn’t fully resistant to him. He could have both: the list and the girl. And why not? He was a player and he won. Always. After all he was Bad Boy Viktor Iwanow, the hottest hunk at the New York Stock Exchange, he quoted Ally’s article.
Maybe it was destiny for them to meet this way. Just like it had been their destiny to lose their mothers. Their childhood and their trust in people. They were both unique, shared one fate. And one couldn’t escape one’s fate, just as much as Ally wouldn’t escape him.
09
When she entered her suite at the Le Bristol, she found a lavish meal, Julie hungrily attacked.
“Did you know that the French have more than three hundred kinds of cheese?” her friend greeted her, smearing something that looked like goat cheese on a piece of Baguette. “Isn’t that totally hilarious? I mean, I know about three kinds, but three hundred?” She bit into the bread and washed it down with a glass of Champagne. Champagne!
“Um, are you sober?”
“Am I’m sober? In my whole life I’ve never been this far from being sober. Good gracious! I love this country!”
When she saw Ally’s expression, she laughed and waved her off. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m not drunk. This is my first glass.”
Ally lifted one eyebrow and looked at her.
“’Kay, my second.” She grinned, took Ally’s hand and lead her to the couch. “Don’t be such a party pooper and look at me like my mom before she’s telling me off.“ She paused for a second, looking contemplatively. “What’s party pooper supposed to mean anyway?“ She made a swiping motion with her hand. “Whatever. Tell me how the interview went? What does this dream prince look like? Are his pictures photo-shopped or what?”
Ally sighed and let her friend push her down onto a seat. “I’m afraid he’s all real. He looks even better than in the magazines, that should be illegal.”
Julie let out a whistle. “Here, eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”
Ally had lost her appetite. Viktor had pulled a number on her. The interview had been a sham, his friendliness was superficial. All because she had something he wanted. She was only the means to an end.
On the other hand, his father had died–murdered. Wasn’t it normal to do anything in his power to revenge his death? In her mind she shook her head. Something was up, and she didn’t like it. It felt wrong. For a son in mourning he’d shown amazingly little grief. Maybe his father had been a nightmare. But then again why would he want to revenge him?
In the end, it didn’t matter. Her problem wasn’t Viktor, but Cole.
With a sigh she grabbed Julie’s cell.
“What happened to your phone?”
“I accidentally stepped on it.” Seven or eight times.
“Oh.” While Julie took another sip of the Veueve, Ally dialed David’s private number. Her hands were slightly trembling, she was afraid of what she was about to find out.
“Who is it?” he barked.
And a good evening to you, too, she thought and took a deep breath. Then she remembered that Seattle was nine hours back. She’d probably woken him up. Even if he was still in Washington it would be early morning for him.
“Um…David, this is Ally.”
“Ally!” The emotions that rushed through the phone took her breath away. Worry, fear and guilt. He was blaming himself for not taking better care of her, asking himself how she was doing, where she was and how she was getting along.
The fact that his emotions showed honest concern irritated her. And there was something else. Love. Real, genuine love, like a father loves his child. He’d never before opened up like this. The fact that he was doing it now was probably unintended. He’d probably no idea her empathy was working at this distance. Which it had actually never before, owing to her pills.
“We have to talk,” she said, swallowing a lump in her throat.
“Yes,” he replied, and she could feel him withdrawing. For a moment he’d lost his cool. If it had been due to fear or relief, she couldn’t tell. But that moment had passed and he was the restrained lawyer again, who had himself and everybody nearby under control.
“Now,” she added.
“Alienor, I…”
“No! I’m getting horror news about me and who I am every hour.” She clenched her free hand into a fist and continued. “Or should I say about what I am?”
She heard background noises she couldn’t utterly place. He seemed to be travelling. Something new for a change.
“All right,” he said and took her by surprise. All right? Just like that? “What am I?” she asked, her throat tightening.
“Not on the phone,” he replied curtly.
“I haven’t time for your games,” she snapped. “I’ve just found out that I’m the result of a genetic experiment and that my father is a professional killer!”
Julie’s glass dropped and shattered on the hardwood floor.
“We’ll talk when I’m with you,” David said.
She could feel his growing tenseness.
“You have no idea where I am!”
“Paris, Eight Arrondissement. Rue Saint-Honoré, Hotel Le Bristol.”
Oops.
“You destroyed your mobile phone too late,” he replied quietly, as if it was normal that he had tracked her with her SIM.
“Don’t leave the hotel!” he continued in a pressed voice. “Do you understand? I’ve arranged for you to be watched over, but that won’t be enough. I’ll be with you in a few hours, then we’ll talk.”
In a few hours? The flight took almost an entire day.
“How are you going to manage that?”
“We’re already in the air.” She could hear him taking a deep breath. “If you’ve ever trusted me then you’ll wait for me and let me help. Your life is in danger.”
Well, she’d figured out that much herself. “Why did you call the Seattle Times and ratted on me?” Why in the world did she have to asked that of all possible questions? Her brain was probably running in chronological order and after all this was how all of this had started.
“Because you had destroyed all my efforts of hiding you that way.”
“Through my blog?”
“Through your paycheck.”
Uh?
“You fed your data via email into the net. Address, social security number, account number. With one of these pieces of information alone one could track you down. And you left nothing out.”
“If you had taken the time to talk to me, none of this would’ve happened!”
Apropos. “And why did you have me assaulted? That’s really scraping the barrel!” she was almost screaming.
“Ally, I’m sorry, but it was necessary.”
An apology from David. Wow! “But why?”
“You didn’t take your training seriously, it wasn’t important to you. But for me it was about keeping you alive, and part of that is for you to be able to defend yourself. Sometimes one can only win seconds, but those can be crucial when you have to escape.”
“Taking would have helped, too. I’m a person, not a machine one can program. If I had known the truth…”
“I would’ve told you at some point. But you grew up sheltered and are stil
l so young.” His voice cracked, which made her pause.
“How should I’ve explained to a child that half a dozen heads of government wanted it dead?”
That her own father has to stay away from her in order not to get her into danger.
She almost dropped the phone. Had he just said that out loud?
“Ally, let’s talk about it later. We are landing in Orly in a few hours.” There was a pause. “Promise me that you won’t leave the hotel,” he added.
“I won’t promise you anything,” she said weakly and ended the call. She’d planned to put Julie on a plane and look for a new place to stay. But after the phone call her friend had magically sobered up and wanted to know every detail about the genetic experiment. Ally’s gift, and David’s part of it. So, she told her. They became too hungry over it and stuffed themselves, which made them awfully tired and caused them to fall asleep on the couch shortly after midnight.
~ * ~
Deafening pounding awoke them with a start. One couldn’t call it knocking, somebody was hammering his fists against the door.
“Uno Momento,” Julie called out, rubbing her eyes.
“I think that was Italian,” Ally uttered and looked at Julies mobile. It was shortly before eleven, they had slept through the entire morning. Her neck was stiff and her left foot had fallen asleep and felt numb, so she hopped to the entrance on one foot. Before she reached it, she heard the lock beep and the door jumped open.
Her visitor wasn’t a surprise. His pissed off energy had reached her before the knocking. Probably, because his rage was aimed at her.
~ * ~
Jean Lacroix stepped across the threshold and kicked the door shut with his heel. Ally’s eyes fell on his hand, which was holding a credit card. Amazing what one could do with criminal energy and a piece of plastic.
“That’s what’s called boarding and capturing,” she commented calmer than she was feeling, pushing her hands to her hips.
He looked exactly like that was his intention. His face was glowing red, the short hair pointed in all directions, and his jaw was clenched. She was waiting for lightning bolts shooting from his eyes.
Before he could aim his wrath at her, Julie intervened. “Hello sailor,” she said in a raspy voice, flipping her hair over her shoulder. That’s when she noticed the bird nest on her head, let out a scream, and ran into the bathroom. Ally had to shake off the strange feeling of a déjà vu. Anyway, that was the advantage of straight hair: It was always perfect, day and night.
But back to Jean. “What’s wrong with you?” Ally asked.
“Imbécile!” he snapped and took a step towards her.
“Of all the gangsters you pick Iwanow, the biggest heavy weight of the Paris underworld.”
What the heck was he talking about?
“I followed you yesterday, so don’t deny it!”
“I was at Le Meurice for work.”
“Merde!” he cursed and started pacing the room. “I didn’t spend half the night trying to calm down to let you throw this bullshit at me.”
It didn’t seem to have worked very well anyway, the calming down that was. “I did an interview for the Seattle Times. It had been planned for weeks,” she replied just as angrily. This guy was starting to annoy her. “Why do you care anyway, and what’s the point sneaking after me?”
“Do you have any idea who Iwanow is?”
“Everybody knows that. He has recently made a fortune at the…”
“Foutaise!” Nonsense! He made a swiping gesture with his hand. “That’s his bollocks-publicity and is part of his disguise. I can’t believe how dumb you are! Here I am, offering my protection and trying to help. And as soon as I turn my back on you, you jump right into the cave of Sergej’s son, who is by the way the godfather of Paris.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sergej Iwanow owns half of Paris. He shares the other half with the Italians. But compared to Sergej, the Italians are monks. The Russian is up to any kind of dirty trick. He sells drugs to kids, imports weapons from Ukraine via Bulgaria and Georgia, and does things you definitely don’t want to know about.”
She hadn’t even wanted to know the first part. “And why should I buy this crap?”
“Because I, contrary to yourself, have spent my entire life here, n’est-ce pas? Besides, my father works for the special forces, in case you forgot already.”
She actually had.
“He saw this man do things that would make you throw up.”
That was enough. “Say what you’ve got to say, then leave.”
Jean grabbed her by the shoulders, not rough, but determinedly. A stream of agitated energy swamped her, and she couldn’t breathe for a second. “Let go!” she gasped. Not that she couldn’t free herself. But his anger had taken over, and she wasn’t sure if she’d accidently break his nose.
“Promise me you won’t see him again.”
“I had no intention to. And now take your paws off me.”
Jean let go of her and took a step back. “Next time you make appointments, do your homework first.” He gave her the evil eye. “You walked into the den of the Russian mafia without any back-up. Nobody would’ve gotten you out of there without an army.”
“As you can see, I’m right here.”
“You were lucky this time.”
Ally rolled her eyes. Why was everybody predicting her an early death? “Is that why you came? To bitch me out?”
“Who’s a bitch?” Julie asked, floating into the lounge.
Grunting, Jean shoved his hands the size of trash can-lids into the front pockets of his jeans. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve gotten yourselves into, n’est-ce pas?”
This was getting old. But actually, he sounded more resigned than upset.
“Who made you our babysitter?” Ally asked.
“Babysitting would be a nice change compared to the bull you’re up to.”
“It’s our bull, so stay out of it!” she replied and blew a strand of hair out of her face.
Julie gave a little cough. “Why don’t we all calm down?”
“I am calm!” Ally and Jean exclaimed simultaneously.
“I’m gonna order a round of coffee, maybe that’ll help.”
“No one can help her if she’s going to continue behaving like she’s on a goddamn field trip.” Jean pointed with his thumb in Ally’s direction.
“Why don’t we talk about it,” Julie suggested in friendly manner, “and find out how we can get rid of the problem.”
“She is the problem!”
“He is the problem!” Ally and Jean exclaimed at once again.
“Ooookay.” Julie picked up the receiver and ordered a pot of extra strong Arabica and a Latte for Ally.
When the coffee was delivered they still weren’t an inch further. Though Jean had calmed down, he was thoroughly convinced that Ally was sabotaging him on purpose.
“All I’m asking for is to make contact with Cole,” Jean said and threw his hands in the air.
“Cole my ass! What you want is that stupid list!” Ally had stood up and was pacing the lounge.
“You’re goddamn right about that!” he cursed and threw his fist against the wood paneled wall.
“Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!” Julie uttered, sipping from her cup. “Guys! Not an ounce of self-restraint.”
“What do you want with it anyway?” Ally asked. “Blackmail is a size too big for you.”
“You have no idea what I’m capable of!” He ran his hand through his messy hair.
“Right,” Ally commented, “because I don’t know you. Nonetheless, you’re asking me to trust you blindly and give you something that my life probably depends on.”
“Wrong,” he interrupted her, “whoever has the list is as good as dead.”
Her thoughts automatically wandered to Viktor’s father. “Then why do you want it?”
“I have to take care of something. And I can only do it with that damn list.”
S
o, extortion after all. She let out a disgusted grunt and sat down next to her friend.
Julie placed the Latte in her hand and filled a cup of coffee for Jean. “So, what do you think we should do?” Julie asked, offering him a seat.
Jean ignored it and kept pacing. “Arrange a meeting, that’s all I need.”
“But we’ve done that already,” Julie replied joyfully.
Ally looked at her in disbelief, but Julie was gently pushing her knee against hers, so she shut her mouth. What was she up to now?
“And when were you going tell me about it?”
“After the coffee?” she asked, sweetly.
“Hmpf!” he uttered and dropped down into the armchair on the opposite side.
“When’s the meeting?”
Julie looked at her watch. “In half an hour.”
“What?” He was back on his feet again. “Where?”
“At the Ritz. We had agreed to meet there at the reception around twelve.”
Ally’s brain was racing while the gears interlocked one by one. Hotel Ritz, twelve o’clock–something was ringing a bell.
And then it hit her. Catch(h)er90, her fan aka stalker who’d been looking for ways to meet her for weeks. After her last karate training she’d given him a prank-date. It was supposed to be a joke, kind of. Neither she nor Julie believed he’d show up for real.
But it meant today was Valentine’s Day. If he was there or a no-show didn’t really matter. The point was to get rid of Jean, who wasn’t the type one could easily distract. The little trip would buy them time and there was always something going on in a hotel, right? How hard could it be to disappear? At the airport it worked, too. If they weren’t able to shake Jean off, they could still claim that Cole must have noticed them not being alone and that’s why he stayed away. What could Jean do about it?
If they just sat around, they only risked Jean’s father getting involved. The last thing they needed was more attention. There was also the risk of his father sending them back to the States, and she wasn’t ready for that.
So far she hadn’t achieved anything but following other peoples leftovers. Crumbs that were laid out to track down her father. The situation should have been frightening if it wasn’t for the stuff about the Special Skills. During the last two days she’d found out more about her defect than in the last ten years. A flaw that had left a mark on her life so far, but was supposed to be a gift. A special talent, that is.
Operation Heartbreaker Page 11