The Long Game
Page 88
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
I stood up, trying to process that statement. “And Madrid?” I asked, my tongue like sandpaper in my mouth.
“I know people,” Daniela replied, “who have been to Madrid. I know what it is they refer to.”
“Murder,” I said.
“Execution,” came the correction. “They don’t just want the dove dead. They want it sudden and public, and they want the blood on my hands.”
Priya had been ordered to give herself up, to deliver Daniela, to deliver me. She’d known that, in all likelihood, she would be surrendering her life.
“When we make it back to Hardwicke,” I said, trying to process the reality of the situation. “When we go in . . .”
“I’m to make an example of her.”
“With the FBI and SWAT team watching?”
Daniela gave a slight nod.
“Won’t they shoot you?” I asked.
Daniela looked at me with an expression somewhere between detachment and pity.
That was when I realized: “They won’t shoot you if you have me.”
I could see how this would have played out, if Daniela hadn’t told me the meaning behind the message. I’d have been prepared for an attack, but I wouldn’t have expected it to come from her.
Neither would Priya, I thought.
The dove has always wanted to fly to Madrid.
“Why tell me this?” I asked the woman Walker Nolan had loved, the terrorist operative he’d never really known.
“You told me your truth,” Daniela Nicolae replied. “You wanted my trust. You claim that we are family, of sorts.” She let that sentiment hang in the air a moment longer than the ones that had come before. “My people, the organization I work for—they have been my family. I was taught, from the cradle, to protect that family.” She laid a hand on her stomach. “I would have died for our cause. But I will not allow my daughter to do the same.”
There was a noise in the hallway—footsteps, then a shout.
“Do you have a plan?” I asked Daniela.
She smiled again, that same subtle, chilling smile. “Do you?”
CHAPTER 60
Two minutes later, the door to the cell opened.
Priya stepped in and shut the door behind her. “We’ve got company,” she said. “Tess, you and I need to get out of here. Now.”
“What kind of company?” I asked.
Priya grabbed my arm, and as she pulled me out of the cell, she met Daniela’s eyes. “You stay here.”
I’d known that it wasn’t my job, or Priya’s, to get Daniela out. But after the past fifteen minutes—and especially the last two—my gut rebelled against the idea of leaving Daniela behind and hoping things went according to plan.
We need Daniela. Without her, we don’t stand a chance.
“Stay behind me,” Priya said softly, as she guided me down the corridor. “And do exactly as I say.”
The two guards who’d been there when we arrived were still just outside the door, but they’d been joined by a third—and all three were slumped on the floor. Unconscious.
What happened? I bit back the words, suddenly sure that I didn’t want to risk making any unnecessary noise.
Priya caught the look on my face as she glanced back over her shoulder at the men. The look on her face clearly said, Don’t ask.
We rounded the corner, walking at a brisk pace. We continue at that pace until a group of men turned the corner at the end of the hall, walking toward us.
Not good.
There were four men. At least three of them were armed.
So not good.
“Head down and keep walking,” Priya murmured. She slowed her pace slightly, and I matched mine to hers.
“You!” I heard a voice say to my left.
Priya tensed, ready to launch herself into action.
“Tess.”
The sound of my name drew Priya up short, and for the first time, I looked past the guns to the men’s faces. Three of them appeared to be guards of some type. The fourth was the vice president of the United States.
Where’s his Secret Service detail?
“It is Tess, isn’t it?” the vice president said. Beside him, one of the men’s hands hovered over his weapon.
“Yes,” I told the vice president, turning to face him full-on. “It is.”
“They say you saw my daughter. They say you saw Anna.” The vice president didn’t say a word about my presence here. He didn’t seem capable of registering surprise or suspicion or anything other than a haunting mixture of sorrow and fear. “She’s okay?”
“I know people,” Daniela replied, “who have been to Madrid. I know what it is they refer to.”
“Murder,” I said.
“Execution,” came the correction. “They don’t just want the dove dead. They want it sudden and public, and they want the blood on my hands.”
Priya had been ordered to give herself up, to deliver Daniela, to deliver me. She’d known that, in all likelihood, she would be surrendering her life.
“When we make it back to Hardwicke,” I said, trying to process the reality of the situation. “When we go in . . .”
“I’m to make an example of her.”
“With the FBI and SWAT team watching?”
Daniela gave a slight nod.
“Won’t they shoot you?” I asked.
Daniela looked at me with an expression somewhere between detachment and pity.
That was when I realized: “They won’t shoot you if you have me.”
I could see how this would have played out, if Daniela hadn’t told me the meaning behind the message. I’d have been prepared for an attack, but I wouldn’t have expected it to come from her.
Neither would Priya, I thought.
The dove has always wanted to fly to Madrid.
“Why tell me this?” I asked the woman Walker Nolan had loved, the terrorist operative he’d never really known.
“You told me your truth,” Daniela Nicolae replied. “You wanted my trust. You claim that we are family, of sorts.” She let that sentiment hang in the air a moment longer than the ones that had come before. “My people, the organization I work for—they have been my family. I was taught, from the cradle, to protect that family.” She laid a hand on her stomach. “I would have died for our cause. But I will not allow my daughter to do the same.”
There was a noise in the hallway—footsteps, then a shout.
“Do you have a plan?” I asked Daniela.
She smiled again, that same subtle, chilling smile. “Do you?”
CHAPTER 60
Two minutes later, the door to the cell opened.
Priya stepped in and shut the door behind her. “We’ve got company,” she said. “Tess, you and I need to get out of here. Now.”
“What kind of company?” I asked.
Priya grabbed my arm, and as she pulled me out of the cell, she met Daniela’s eyes. “You stay here.”
I’d known that it wasn’t my job, or Priya’s, to get Daniela out. But after the past fifteen minutes—and especially the last two—my gut rebelled against the idea of leaving Daniela behind and hoping things went according to plan.
We need Daniela. Without her, we don’t stand a chance.
“Stay behind me,” Priya said softly, as she guided me down the corridor. “And do exactly as I say.”
The two guards who’d been there when we arrived were still just outside the door, but they’d been joined by a third—and all three were slumped on the floor. Unconscious.
What happened? I bit back the words, suddenly sure that I didn’t want to risk making any unnecessary noise.
Priya caught the look on my face as she glanced back over her shoulder at the men. The look on her face clearly said, Don’t ask.
We rounded the corner, walking at a brisk pace. We continue at that pace until a group of men turned the corner at the end of the hall, walking toward us.
Not good.
There were four men. At least three of them were armed.
So not good.
“Head down and keep walking,” Priya murmured. She slowed her pace slightly, and I matched mine to hers.
“You!” I heard a voice say to my left.
Priya tensed, ready to launch herself into action.
“Tess.”
The sound of my name drew Priya up short, and for the first time, I looked past the guns to the men’s faces. Three of them appeared to be guards of some type. The fourth was the vice president of the United States.
Where’s his Secret Service detail?
“It is Tess, isn’t it?” the vice president said. Beside him, one of the men’s hands hovered over his weapon.
“Yes,” I told the vice president, turning to face him full-on. “It is.”
“They say you saw my daughter. They say you saw Anna.” The vice president didn’t say a word about my presence here. He didn’t seem capable of registering surprise or suspicion or anything other than a haunting mixture of sorrow and fear. “She’s okay?”
