“Stay here,” Skye said tersely. She took a few steps forward to peer at what Faina had written.
Skye straightened and walked backward to Edie. She hadn’t removed her hand from the small of her back. “She’s being monitored. She wrote ‘they’re listening.’ I don’t like this. She’s not alone. I need to get you out of here.”
“Jesus, she’s with them.” Nausea again, and Edie swayed slightly as her brain ran full tilt backward, trying to make sense of this, even as her body sagged under the weight of too much exertion and adrenaline.
“Edie, focus.” Skye’s voice was just at the edge of sharp, a whispered command to pull herself together. “Tell her you have to go, you’ll call her later, whatever. Then follow me to the car.”
“Skye, I think she’s hurt.” Now that she’d seen the bruises, Edie couldn’t ignore them.
“She’s not my concern right now, you are. Talk to her. Now.”
Edie felt the edges of Skye’s anger, the splintering of her patience, the desire to get her to safety.
“Faina, I’m tired and I need to go. I’ll call you, okay?” Her voice didn’t sound right. Her modulation was off, and she sounded unconvincing. Did it really matter? Who was listening?
“Say you’ll meet me for coffee. You have to say you will.” Faina was near tears, and she took a few stumbling steps toward Edie and Skye.
“We’re going,” Skye said loudly. She stabbed a finger at Faina. “You.” She gestured sharply away from the Jeep.
Faina’s shoulders slumped but she followed Skye’s nonverbal command and stood a few feet away. Skye grabbed Edie by the upper arm, keeping herself between Faina and Edie. Just as Skye unlocked and opened the passenger side door of the Jeep, the sound of canned music drifted through the parking lot. Edie looked up as Skye tried to hustle her into the car. That music was familiar. Edie could see Faina’s face drain of colour, her eyes wide with a horror that made no sense given the quietness of the forest, the blueness of the sky, the faint strain of strings from the music. Faina slowly reached into her pocket, and Edie felt Skye tense.
“Move, Edie. Get in the car, now.”
But the music was playing and Edie could feel her scalp, her jaw, her neck, her shoulders as they sagged and relaxed. The music sat on her chest as the adrenaline drained away. Worry went with it, fear a confusing memory. She simply needed to sleep.
“Edie, no. Hang on…”
Skye’s harsh voice was overshadowed by the music and the fog of sleep descending over Edie. It blurred Faina’s look of horror as she stared at her phone in her hand, the source of the music, then back at Edie. Edie closed her eyes and let gravity pull her down, even as she felt Skye lifting her into the Jeep.
* * *
Edie’s body swayed with the careening Jeep. She registered speed, and bumps, and gravel spraying against the underside of the car. She could hear Skye talking.
“…may be a device, I’m going on the assumption there’s not. No choice right now, I have to get out of here. Yes, I’ll clear it when I get a chance…okay, send me the three closest locations to this number. No, the other number is burned. Is Sasha under? Good, I’m calling him in. Keep a line open for me and start a tab. Fine, we’ll sort it out later.” Skye tapped at the phone in the stand on the dash.
Edie’s mind was rapidly clearing the fog. Not all of Skye’s words made sense, but the intensity of her tone did. The unmistakable timbre of control.
“Skye?”
Skye glanced over at Edie, then looked back to the road, constantly scanning her mirrors.
“You okay? Hurt?”
“No.” Edie sat up straighter and tried to get her bearings. They were still at the base of the hills, so she couldn’t have been out for long.
“What’s happening?”
“I haven’t seen any cars but I’m assuming we’re being followed. Either by a vehicle or GPS tracking or both. When I’m satisfied no vehicle is behind us, I’m going to clear the car of any tracking devices. I already started with my phone.” Skye nodded briefly toward the console. Her iPhone was cracked open, the chip beside it in two pieces.
“Jesus,” Edie mumbled. She rubbed at her temples and tried to catch up. She tried so hard to place herself in the centre of this activity. Part of her mind rebelled at the thought. The other forced her to be here and live this. And help.
“What can I do?”
Another glance from Skye. An evaluation, this time.
“Watch the mirrors for cars behind us. Write down any license plate numbers. Grab the phone and take pictures of the driver if they get close.”
“Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
They were clearing the hills now, cars passing them in the other direction. The silence was uncomfortable, filled with questions and unknowns. Skye drove confidently, following the directions on her screen. Edie said nothing. As they entered Hull traffic, every car and driver became suspect.
“I don’t know if having so many people around is better or worse,” Edie said.
“It’s better. Just keep an eye out.”
Every stoplight made Edie feel exposed, every sluggish acceleration felt like someone was catching up. Edie blew out a breath.
“We’re fine,” Skye said, obviously sensing her discomfort.
“Sure, that’s why you’re wound so tight,” Edie mumbled.
“I’m sure we made it out of the hills without being followed, but I’ll feel better when we clear the car of any tracking devices.”
“How are we doing that?”
Skye turned right down a street and pointed at a gas station sign.
“Right here.”
Edie watched as Skye drove behind the gas pumps and the attached convenience store until they arrived at the car wash.
“Seriously?”
Skye gave Edie a quick, tight grin, her eyes bright. Skye lowered the window and worked the machine. Edie didn’t get the sense that Skye was enjoying this, but she was fully engaged. Edie had always sensed Skye’s intellect was incredibly vast, but she kept it under wraps. In this crisis or whatever this was, Skye was more exposed and less cautious than Edie had ever seen her.
“The combination of water, soap, and brushes should do the trick,” Skye said as she eased the Jeep forward into the car wash until the sensor indicated the vehicle should stop.
Moments later, Skye put the Jeep in park and the sudden onslaught of a cascade of water made Edie jump. Soap sprayed next, the bubblegum colour doing nothing to soothe Edie’s frayed nerves. More soap, then a mechanical clanking as giant brushes attacked the Jeep from all sides. The sound was deafening, the Jeep was dark, and suddenly Edie was having trouble breathing. Skye took her hand and leaned across the console. She had to speak directly in Edie’s ear to be heard above the noise.
“Hey, you’re okay. This only lasts five minutes. You’re safe, just breathe. Edie, breathe.”
Edie tried. She actively fought the panic, refusing to allow it to consume her.
“I’m okay,” Edie said, not even sure if Skye could hear her.
“I know. Four minutes.”
Edie turned her head slightly, wanting to see Skye. It put their faces very close together. Edie’s pulse accelerated again.
“Then what?”
Skye leaned back slightly. Some of the light in her eyes had dimmed. “I think we need to get out of town.” Edie shook her head. Skye put a hand up. “Wait until we can talk better. I have a plan.”
Edie didn’t want a plan. She didn’t want to get out of town. She didn’t want the light in Skye’s eyes to disappear. She didn’t want to argue. The sound of the water and brushes was a loud, rhythmic constant in the background, making it hard to think. So Edie didn’t. She rested her head back, closed her eyes, and laid her palms flat against her thighs. Three minutes to meditate. Three minutes to think. Three minutes to catch up.
Three minutes later Skye put the Jeep in gear and emerged into the bright sunlight. She immediately tapped her phone and
adjusted her earpiece.
“I’m clear. Or as clear as I’m going to get without a scan. Where’s the meet?”
Edie listened to the half of the conversation as Skye maneuvered them confidently through the streets of Hull to a smaller bridge that would take them to the west side of downtown Ottawa.
“Yes. I’m ten minutes out.”
Ten minutes. Edie breathed for those ten minutes. She watched the mirrors. She did not try to anticipate next steps. She had learned in Kandahar that some moments were just moments, and you simply used them to prepare yourself. To store them as a reminder that your body and mind were capable of calm. Edie had to wonder how many of those moments she had left.
Edie opened her eyes as the Jeep slowed outside a mid-level, plain-looking building. Skye pulled up to the security gate, lowered the window, and held her phone up to the screen. Something beeped, and the arm raised. Skye followed the signs to the parking garage.
“Where are we?”
“A federal building. I don’t think we’re being followed, but this is the safest place to get the resources and equipment we need to get you out of town.”
“Equipment? Jesus, like a U-Haul? I thought that was more of a second-date thing.”
Skye didn’t laugh, not even a smile. She just kept driving up the enclosed garage ramps until they were at P6. Skye muttered as she peered at cars, finally backing into a spot near the exit and turning off the ignition.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Skye quickly got out of the Jeep and disappeared from view.
Edie thought about her agreement to follow Skye’s orders for a full minute. Then the silence in the Jeep became oppressive, and she was suddenly completely overwhelmed. Edie opened the car door and followed Skye.
She was three cars down, talking to a tall man with broad shoulders and a shiny, bald head. They both looked up as Edie rounded the bumper and stopped. Edie waited for a reprimand, the order to get back in the car and get out of the way. Instead, after only a moment’s hesitation, Skye indicated Edie should come closer.
“Edie Black, this is Lawrence Bartali. He’s the head of Protag Security and my sometimes boss.”
Edie refused to be intimidated by the man’s size, position, or his impressive glower. She held out her hand. “Thanks for helping me out, Mr. Bartali.”
He shook her hand, his grip strong and warm. “You can call me Bart, Ms. Black. As the saying goes, any friend of Kenny’s is a friend of mine.” His voice was warm, too.
Edie expected to see Skye blush and could not quite explain her disappointment at its absence.
“Bart’s agreed to take you on as a client, which means we’ve got access to as many of the security resources we need. Actually, we need you to sign a contract with Protag Security.” She pulled a sheaf of papers out of one of the laptop bags in the trunk and handed it to Edie.
Edie unfurled the papers and began scanning the legalese. She looked up at Skye.
“Am I signing away any rights here? What about cost?”
“You won’t be signing anything away, Ms. Black. The contract just outlines that you are securing our services.”
“And cost?”
Bart flicked his eyes to Skye.
“No cost,” Skye said. “But we need these papers for certain permits and to allow access.”
Edie had seen right through Skye’s answer. But maybe she didn’t care. She gestured for a pen and signed the document, handing it back to Bart, who tucked it away.
“Good, okay. Right now we’re clearing the Jeep of any bugs, establishing communication links, and then making a plan to get you out of here.” She paused, as if making sure Edie wasn’t overwhelmed with the information. She was, but she wasn’t about to show it. “Where would Faina expect you to go if you left town?”
An easy question. “My brother and sister-in-law’s chalet. It’s west of Calabogie. Faina knows I go there sometimes on my own.”
“Will your brother be there in the next week or two?” Bart said.
“I doubt it, but I don’t know for sure.”
Skye turned to Bart. “Do you have the phones?”
Bart opened the back of the dark SUV and unzipped a plain black rolling suitcase. Inside was a series of grey foam compartments. Wedged neatly into one of these looked like eight new iPhones. Bart delicately pulled one out with his thick fingers and handed it to Skye. She indicated it should go to Edie.
“Code it as Edie’s. We may need it to make contact.”
Edie stared at the phone in her hand. It seemed to be the same model as the one Skye had made her leave behind. Holding the phone out of its case was strange. It was too light and too slippery. Edie felt a sudden case of nerves, a frisson of anxiety coursing up through her spine and into her arms. Her hand shook. She was sure she was going to drop the phone. Skye didn’t seem to notice.
“Call your brother. Tell him to stay away from the chalet for at least the next week. At this point don’t tell him why.” Skye turned to Bart. “We’ve got security detail on the Black family? Home, work, and school?”
“The whole lot. I’ll have an update from the boys by this aft. We’ll monitor the chalet, see if anyone shows any interest there.”
Edie felt sick. She was still staring at the screen of her phone. The tremors in her arm were worse. Security and police, weapons permits, tracking. This isn’t my life. This has to be a mistake.
“Good,” Skye was saying. “There’s nothing to suggest anyone has made contact, but until we know who we’re dealing with, we’ll keep them there.”
Edie’s arm jerked as another tremor passed through her body. She mechanically dialed her brother’s home number, the only one she could remember off the top of her head, and asked him to give her a call, leaving the new number Bart held out to her. Edie hung up and tried to tune back into the conversation.
“Any intel on the contact from today? I take it she’s your best lead,” Bart was saying. Their voices are nearly conversational, Edie thought. They’re comfortable in this realm; every part of this is familiar. But Edie felt like she had been dropped suddenly into another life, and the lack of familiarity bred a fear getting harder and harder to ignore. Her eyes began to hurt, and the golden haze of an aura edged into her vision. Migraine, a bad one. She had ten minutes max before it hit.
“Edie? Did you hear me?”
“No, repeat the question please.” Edie kept her eyes down.
Skye seemed to catch on that something was wrong. Her voice became hesitant. “Faina’s last name. Or the one she’s given you, anyway.”
“Kassis,” Edie said and spelled it out.
“Arabic,” she heard Bart mutter.
“And a Russian first name. And at least two others had a Slavic accent,” Skye said. “Edie, has Faina talked about her family?”
“Her mom was from Damascus but lived in the UK. She has a brother and sister, both older. I think they have a different mother. Faina didn’t like talking about her family.”
“We’ll start there,” Bart said. “I’ll need a picture if you’ve got one.”
“On my phone,” Edie said quietly, feeling the loss of too many kinds of connections.
“I’ll make sure you get it before the cops do,” Skye said to Bart. “In fact, I’m setting up a meet with JC when we have our final destination from Sasha. We can come at it from both sides.”
“I’ve never worked with her,” Bart said. “You trust her?”
“Absolutely. I’ll give you her contact info, and I’d trust any and all information with her. No one else.”
Edie’s head began to splinter as Skye and Bart continued to talk. It wasn’t pain yet, but her senses fractured into separate components. She didn’t have ten minutes after all.
“Ms. Black, are you okay?”
“Edie?”
“Migraine,” Edie whispered. “I need to lie down.”
Skye and Bart half carried Edie back to Skye’s Jeep. Their strength was the only comfort in a
world turned to pain and confusion and nausea. Edie lay in the backseat, the seat belt buckles digging awkwardly into her side. She didn’t care. She needed dark and silence, and the Jeep offered both. Edie focused on her breathing, barely aware of the now hushed conversation around her. Skye opened the door and whispered for her to lift her head. She placed something soft underneath. A sweatshirt, maybe. It smelled like Skye. Edie breathed.
“Edie,” Skye whispered, her fingers gently resting against Edie’s temple. “Do you have meds with you?”
“No.”
“I can get them from my loft. Sasha will be here in fifteen minutes.”
Pain blossomed behind her eyes and burned its way around her skull.
“Too late.”
“I’m sorry.”
Edie melted under the onslaught of the pain. It filled her skull, her nose and mouth, her throat. It filled her chest, her shoulders, her arms. Each finger was pain, her pelvis heavy with the hurt of her year-old injury. Her legs were immobile, her feet hot and her running shoes so tightly laced she nearly cried. Something eased the pain in her feet, minutes or hours later. The darkness became more profound, and Edie removed herself from the world as the pain ravaged her body.
Chapter Seven
Edie shuffled out of the unfamiliar bedroom, passed an unfamiliar kitchen, and stopped by a bay of windows to watch a spectacular sunrise over an unfamiliar lake. Orange and pink rippled and stretched across the water as the sun gently burned over the row of dark pines across the lake. Each colour was sharp and fluid all at once, prisms and waves that extended closer and closer until Edie felt like the colours would soon touch her skin in all their gentle vibrancy.
Surfacing from a migraine without meds always felt like learning to breathe. The world was scrubbed clean, the absence of pain a gift that made her want to cry. Her pain meds could never touch this euphoria. The combination of post-migraine, a beautiful sunrise, and safety made Edie feel hopeful for the first time in days.
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