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13
“How soon till we get to Nice?” Malone asked.
“An hour.”
Malone peered from the Agency’s jet. The sky was turning gray. It would soon be dawn. “We’re going to need weapons and special equipment.”
Jeb nodded. “Back in February, when you agreed to work for us, I made arrangements to have them ready in case we had to go in.”
“After we land and the jet’s refueled, one of these men will have to fly to Paris.”
“What’s in Paris?”
“Bellasar’s new girlfriend and her father.”
“What are you thinking?”
Malone explained.
Jeb raised his eyebrows.
“When does Bellasar expect Ahmed?” Malone asked.
“Two P.M.”
“That gives us enough time,” Malone said.
“To do what?”
When Malone told him, Jeb raised his eyebrows higher. “Risky.”
“Have you got an alternative?”
“You know I don’t.”
“Then, with or without your help, I intend to try this.”
“Hey, who said I wouldn’t help?”
“But it isn’t going to work if I can’t get into France. I need a passport.”
Jeb reached into his jacket.
Malone looked in amazement as Jeb handed him a passport. “How…”
“It was with the documents I had delivered at Dulles when we refueled.”
Malone examined his photograph and the name in the passport. “I’m Thomas Corrigan?”
“A pseudonym will come in handy if this doesn’t work.”
“But it is going to work. It has to.”
“Maybe this will encourage you.”
Malone shook his head, puzzled, when he was handed another passport.
The photograph inside was Sie
It gave him a reason to hope.
TEN
1
“How do you know these things?” Derek insisted.
Sie
“What things? I don’t know what you mean. All I did was tell you about a disturbing dream I had.”
“In which you fell from a balcony and you were also riding a pony.”
“No. Not in the same… I woke and drifted off. Several dreams blurred together.”
“What color was the pony?”
Sie
“In the Alps, you said.”
“Yes.” Sie
“How old were you when you had the pony?”
“I didn’t say I had a pony. I said I dreamed about -”
“Damn it, how old were you?”
There had been a handwritten date on the photograph: 1949.
The date on Christina’s birth certificate had been 1939.
“… Ten.”
“And who gave you the pony?”
This is the end, Sie
“My brother.”
Derek shuddered.
“Why am I having these dreams?” Sie
Someone knocked on the door.
“Not now!” Derek shouted.
“Do you want me to meet Ahmed at the airport?” Potter’s voice came from behind the door. “Or do you want the guards to bring him?”
“Meet him!”
“But how do you want me to act? Friendly or distant?”
“Whatever you want! Just leave us the hell alone!”
After a pause, footsteps retreated along the outside corridor.
Derek swung toward Sie
“Nobody! They were in my dream!”
“What else did you dream?”
“I was at a carnival.”
“What kind of -”
“A fiesta. In a street. People were in costumes.”
“Where?”
The crowd in the photograph’s background had looked Latin. Sie
“Rio.”
The city was famous for its carnivals, but Derek didn’t react.
God help me, I guessed wrong. Sie
“Rio.” Derek glared.
He’s going to kill me now.
“How Christina loved Rio.” Derek yanked her up from the chair. “Who told you about my sister?”
“Your sister? I didn’t know you have a -”
“Had!”
“Her name was Christina?” Sie
“She died a long time ago. Are you trying to convince me you’re dreaming about her?”
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything! I never heard of her until you -”
“Do you think I won’t kill you because I’d feel it was like killing my sister?”
“Killing your sister?”
The look in Derek’s eyes was terrifying.
“Did Christina fall from a balcony? Did I dream about how she died?”
Derek shook with anger. “As much as I adored her, she had a way of making me furious. Just as you’re making me furious.”
With a chill, Sie
Derek raised his hands.
“Please, don’t kill me again,” Sie
2
Distraught, Potter watched Nice’s airport enlarge below him as the helicopter descended. He was intentionally early to meet Ahmed. Anything to get away from Derek. To be shouted at. To be treated no better than a servant. When this is over, I’m leaving, Potter thought.
The helicopter set down in its usual far corner of the airport. After getting Ahmed, Potter would return to the estate, and by this time tomorrow, he thought, when the woman is taken care of, when business is settled and I bring Ahmed back to the airport, I’ll keep going. I saved my money. I pla
“We have plenty of time. Refuel it,” Potter told the pilot. He turned to his two guards. “We’ll go into the terminal.”
But instead of moving, they stared past him toward the open hatch, where three men in mechanic’s coveralls leaned in, aiming pistols.
One of the guards almost drew his weapon, but after a further look at the sound suppressors on the pistols, he remained still.
“Think,” one of the armed men said. He was heavy-set, with short blond hair. “Very slowly, using the tips of your fingers, remove your weapons and set them on the floor. Good. If you do this right, nobody’s going to die.”
“Who…?” Potter started to ask.
The man ignored him. A van pulled up next to the helicopter. “Everybody out. You’re taking a ride.”
The guards looked apprehensively at each other.
“Hey, if we’d wanted to, we could have killed you,” the man said. “Play nice and you’ll get out of this alive.” He made a sharp gesture toward the van. “Move.”
The pilot and the guards reluctantly obeyed, but as Potter started to follow, the man said, “Not you.”
“If it’s money you want, I -”
“Sit down. We’ll soon be taking our own ride.”
Seeing the pilot get out of the helicopter and into the van, Potter said, “But who’s going to fly the -”
“I am,” a voice said.
Disturbed by its familiarity, Potter turned toward the pilot’s hatch, where a man with a severely bruised face appeared, but even with the bruises, the face was instantly recognizable. Potter’s stomach contracted.
Malone.