The Final Cut

A few moments later, the car thoroughly looked over, his passport swiped through the reader, he was given the go-ahead to move forward.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, and four hours later, as he pulled off the highway into the streets of Geneva, his mobile rang. Colette. At last.

“Tell me you have good news.”

“Yes, sir, I do. I have received the call. The package has been secured.”

He relaxed. “Excellent, Colette. Merci.”

“Do not thank me yet. We lost Rathbone.”

“Was he taken or killed?”

“He is dead, sir. I was told there was no way to recover the body, but there is also no way to discover his identity, since he was never in the system, either in Europe or in the U.S. He is not a liability.”

Lanighan sighed. Rathbone was one of his favorite henchmen, lethal as a rattlesnake and twice as fast, but smart, never even arrested. He’d been with Saleem for many years, always willing to do anything he asked.

“This is a terrible loss. But it is the price we must pay. Many men’s lives have been sacrificed in the pursuit of the Koh-i-Noor. He will be remembered as a hero.” The eulogy finished, he said sharply, “Now, where is the package secured?”

“In the warehouse, in Gagny.”

He hung up the phone, quite satisfied.

There was too much at stake to take the risk of allowing Kitsune to double-cross him. Too much money, too many variables. She’d been sloppy, letting the FBI close in on her as she was leaving America. Showing off, no doubt, proving the Fox was smarter than the world’s best law enforcement.

He was a patient man. Yes, he was. The power he would wield was worth waiting for. But he would have to be very careful and not take any chances, because now he had another variable in the mix.

Lanighan had a room booked at the Beau-Rivage, at the edge of Lake Geneva across from the Jet d’Eau fountain, as their plans dictated. He checked in, took his bag to his elegant suite, and went out on the balcony, watching the huge plume of water rising nearly five hundred feet in the air.

His meeting with Kitsune was in two hours. She was sure to be nearing Geneva at this point, and he would soon hold the Jewel of the Lion itself in his hands. He shivered with excitement, with the promise of what was to come.

He closed the doors to the balcony and ordered raclette and champagne to be delivered, then took a scalding hot shower. He dressed carefully, then went out onto the balcony to enjoy a cocktail while he waited.

Mont Blanc glistened in the distance, and Saleem had a rare moment of peace. He was alone, he was about to fulfill his lifelong dream, and he had insurance to assure the smooth transition of the Koh-i-Noor diamond into his possession, for a much smaller price than he’d bargained.

Of course, at his death, his father was comforted by the knowledge his son would carry on the search, as he’d done for his father, and his father before him, and he’d suggested Saleem use the Fox, and yet, he wondered again, as he had many times over the past two years, why hadn’t his father told him the Fox was a beautiful, soulless woman?

He was long dead now. It didn’t matter.

The promise of the stone’s power wasn’t a legend to Saleem—it was real. He was the Lion, and soon he would have the famed Koh-i-Noor in his possession, and everything he wanted would finally be his. Nothing could stop him. He could feel it in his bones.

53

Over the Atlantic Ocean

Mike said, “Switzerland, sir?”

“Yes. We got lucky. The French had a satellite passing over when she arrived. Facial recognition confirmed it was the Fox, though I didn’t recognize the woman in the still photos as Victoria Browning. Her hair is short now, black, and she’s smaller, if that’s possible. Talk about a master of disguise.

“The car, a Mercedes, took A40 to the A411 northwest toward Geneva. The license plate was obscured, but the satellite picked up the car entering the city limits an hour later.

“The driver dropped her at the Deutsche Bank in the city center and left. The Geneva police are looking for him, but if he’s anything like the pilot, he knows nothing of use. She seems to hire new people with every job. She doesn’t have a set group of people she uses again and again.”

Nicholas said, “It’s much safer that way. There’s very little chance of being able to turn someone against her. You lost her after the bank?”

“Yes. We’re in touch with the police in Geneva to get the camera feeds, but nothing yet. All we know for sure is she’s in the city.

“Pierre Menard will be your contact on the ground; he’s a FedPol agent stationed in Geneva. He’s a bulldog, likes Americans, and you can always count on him. Mike, I’ve texted you his number. He’s expecting your call.”

Mike said, “We’ll get in touch with him and go straight to the bank when we arrive, see what she left behind. We’ll call you when we’re on the ground.”

She hung up and pressed her call button. The pilot came on the air. “We need to reroute to Geneva, Switzerland. How long will it take to get there?”

“Hold on a moment, Agent Caine, let me get a new flight plan. I’ll be back to you in five minutes.”

She turned to Nicholas. “Geneva?”

“Best banking in the world.”

“What do you think she’s up to?”

“Maybe the buyer put her money in a Swiss account and she has to sign for it in person.”

Mike’s face fell. “She’ll probably be gone before we get there.”

“Don’t be a pessimist. Look, she anticipated we might trace her call and sent us to the wrong place at the wrong time. But she’s here. We’re going to get her.”

“You think she had prearranged codes with the buyer, something like L’Arc de Triomphe at noon means Geneva, di

He nodded. “I expect you’ve hit it head-on.”

Mike hated to admit it, but she felt a grudging respect for Browning. “She has thought of everything.”

“And we’ve gotten bloody lucky, tracking her to Geneva. She knew we’d find her trail, but not so quickly. We have the element of surprise. We’ve underestimated her before. We won’t do it again.”

The pilot came over the speaker. “We’re on course to Geneva, Agent Caine. We’ll be landing in less than two hours.”

Mike keyed the switch and said, “Roger that,” then pulled up the text from Zachery. “Have you dealt with FedPol before?”

“The Federal Police? Yes, many times. I’ve had mixed success with them. Interpol doesn’t have agents in the field the way we do, they’re really more data crunchers. FedPol works closely with them. Every major European country has a branch. Honestly, there are so many layers of international law enforcement that bureaucracy gets the better of them, but right now, we need someone who can move freely around the European theater. We’ll see if Menard is a help or a hindrance.”

Spoken like a true spy.

“Zachery said he’s a bulldog, plus, since I’m an American, we know he’ll at least like me. Let’s just see how much,” and she rang Menard’s number.

“Menard, here. Is this Agent Caine?”

“Yes, and Nicholas Drummond from New Scotland Yard.”

“Drummond, I’ve heard of you. You used to be Foreign Office, oui? You may know a friend of mine, Jacques Bouton.”

Nicholas laughed. “I know him well. What’s the old bugger up to these days?”

“Retired, but you never can leave, can you? Even though he’s up in his chalet in Chamonix, he still manages to butt in to our cases. He spoke for you, said you could be trusted.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Bona fides established, he asked, “Do you know where our target is now?”

“We’re searching. The Geneva police have been cooperative, but there is nothing yet. When will you arrive?”

“Two hours.”

“I will meet you at the airport. Good-bye.”