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“She’s been involved in some honey traps,” he continues. “And subterfuge of various kinds. She’s a freelancer. But not a killer—not yet anyway.”
But not a killer—not yet anyway. “That sounds like a hedge. Is she a killer or not? If you’re not sure, just fucking say it.”
“What part of my daughter is on that plane don’t you understand?” he growls. “There’s nothing, not a damn thing, in her background to even suggest that she could be an assassin, and she doesn’t fit the profile of a suicide bomber.”
There’s always a first time for everything. For Lexie’s safety, we need to remain cognizant of all possibilities, but we also need to follow the facts as we know them.
If Astrid’s not there to kill or to bring down the plane, she’s there to gather intel and feed it to someone on the ground. That means we can use her to send disinformation to her employer.
“Does anyone on the plane know about the dead flight attendant?” I ask.
“No. That’s been kept under tight wraps.”
Perfect.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. Tell the pilot that I’m responsible for the satellite monitoring the flight. Explain that Lexie left Porto to get away from me, and I’m tracking her. No need to keep it a secret from the guards or the fake flight attendant. Warn everyone that I’m unpredictable and resourceful, and you’re concerned about Lexie being abducted.”
“Not much of a stretch,” he mutters.
I ignore the editorializing. “I also need you to buy some time. We’re not far behind them, but I need to get on the ground and to the hotel, and once we’re there, we need to come up with an exit plan.”
“As soon as we were sure the flight attendant wasn’t a killer, we sent word to the plane, through traffic control, about impending weather. If we need to divert them, we can. But I’d prefer we didn’t. I don’t want to spook anyone, and besides, I have an advance team mobilizing on the ground in Quimper. That will be the safest place for Lexie to deplane.”
That depends on the information your traitor has and whether you’re correct about Astrid not being a killer. “Any soldiers at the hotel?”
“Two. Brendon Symes is in charge of the ground operations. He’s a pro. And loyal.”
I don’t think you know who’s loyal, but we might need to take our chances with Symes. “Once I have Lexie, we’ll need to get word to him. I might need his help getting her out. But I don’t want anyone to know anything until we have her.” And I can breathe again.
“What exactly is your plan to secure my daughter?”
“I’ll let you know when I see the hotel. Answer your phone.”
“Rafael,” he says before I disconnect the call. “I issued a shoot order on you earlier.”
Of course you did. Jesus Christ. “Shoot or kill?”
Tamar’s fingers still on the keyboard as she turns to me.
“Shoot,” he replies, without hesitation or regret.
“You need to retract that order. Immediately,” Tamar demands, like any guard in charge of my protection would do. Like her boyfriend, she doesn’t understand that I’m in charge of my own safety. Always.
“Don’t call it off, Will,” I cut in, overriding my guard, who pulls her mouth into a grim line. “We don’t know who we can trust. If you retract the order, it’ll raise red flags, especially since our cover is that I’m after Lexie. Leave the order as is.”
4
RAFAEL
After I disconnect the call, Tamar opens her mouth as if to say something, but no words come out. Although the fire in her eyes practically singes my skin.
“Have you found a new hotel?”
“Rafael,” she pleads. “I’m fully aware of the problems it presents, but that shoot order has to be retracted. In a heated moment, there’s often little daylight between shoot and kill orders.”
I’m fully aware. But I’m not wasting precious time debating semantics. Nothing she can say will change my mind. Lexie wouldn’t be on that plane if I hadn’t overreacted and kicked her out of my place.
“I don’t like to repeat myself, Tamar. Have you found a new hotel?”
