“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Not in the least,” he said. “We want you to cozy up to Frederic Favreau at the hotel, locate and switch the codes, then let him lead you straight to Valac.”
Alex arched a brow. “Cozy up?”
“I’m told you’re just his type.”
“Oh, brother,” she said, tossing the passport and ID card into his lap. “I think you’ve got the wrong candidate for this job.”
“What’s the difference between this and throwing on a prison smock or pretending to be a radiology technician?”
“For one thing, I didn’t have to ‘cozy up’ to anyone.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Just flirt with the guy. Lead him on until we can determine how he’s transporting the codes and make the switch.”
“And who’s the ‘we’ in this scenario? Are you leading the operation?”
McElroy shook his head. “I’m leaving that to Cooper. He’ll be coordinating and using Deuce and Warlock for support. They’ll be posing as your production crew.”
“Warlock? Who the hell is Warlock?”
“Oh, that’s right. You haven’t had the pleasure yet. Warlock’s a prodigy. We recruited him straight out of HMP Nottingham, where he did time for back-dooring a supposedly hack-proof MI6 database when he was seventeen. His only mistake was bragging about it online. He’ll be handling surveillance and comm tech and anything else computer related.”
Alex didn’t like the idea of working with strangers any more than she liked having to play dress-up again, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized she needed this distraction. It didn’t hurt that she might be doing something worthwhile.
“If Valac is hot for these codes, why the face to face?” she said. “Why doesn’t Favreau just transfer them electronically? Wouldn’t everyone be safer that way?”
“The answer’s dead simple. Valac’s old school. He doesn’t trust the Internet. Or Favreau.”
“Okay, so what’s the method of delivery, then? Data chip? Thumb drive?”
“We don’t know.”
“What?”
“That’s something you’ll have determine before they finalize the deal. Once Favreau arrives on the island, Valac will likely want to keep him at arm’s length until he’s sure Favreau isn’t up to anything that might compromise him. So hopefully you’ll have a couple days to figure it out.”
She looked at him. “You’re not asking for much, are you?”
“If I didn’t think you were up to the job, I wouldn’t be asking at all.”
She huffed. “I thought my participation was a condition of the deal?”
“I’m trying to give you a compliment, Alex. Can’t you be gracious enough to accept it?”
“That would require me to pretend I like you,” she said. “And I don’t.”
“I’m painfully aware of that fact.”
CHAPTER 9
It had been only a few days since Istanbul, but it felt good seeing Deuce again. There was always a certain comfort in that big, goofy grin of his.
He was waiting for Alex on the tarmac outside the Key West airport terminal, standing under a sign that read GOLD KEY CHARTERS. He wore a yellow and blue Hawaiian shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts, his pockets loaded down with photography gear and peripheral equipment. A bulky Canon 5D camera hung at his neck and two large packing cases sat at his feet. Alex assumed they contained video and lighting gear.
During a telephone briefing with McElroy and Cooper, they had all agreed to travel in character in case anyone was watching, and Deuce was playing his part to the hilt.
After giving him a hug, Alex asked, “Do you even know how to use any of this stuff?”
He shrugged. “What’s to know? It’s like a gun. Point and shoot.”
“Come on, Deuce, this has to be convincing or it’ll never work.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’ve been studying the manuals. Besides, nowadays, anyone sees me hefting anything bigger than a cell-phone camera, they’ll figure I must be a pro. Otherwise, why bother?”
True enough, she thought, wishing she had some kind of prop that would sell her role in this as easily.
A full day had passed since her early morning meeting with McElroy. She had spent a lot of that time going through the rest of the junk in the Shimmy Shack’s storage shed, trying to decide what to keep and what to toss, half wondering if she’d stumble across another mysterious gift.
She didn’t, but then one such gift was already more than enough.
She had watched the video at least ten times since the first viewing, and still couldn’t fathom why her parents had never told her about the marriage, or why whoever had planted the box wanted her to know. It was obvious her mother had a whole other life prior to coming to America that she had kept a secret, but what did that have to do with Alex all these years later?
Repeated viewing had not yet produced an answer.
Alex had been in the middle of one of those viewings when Thomas Gérard called her, wanting to know why she had sneaked out of his hotel room. He thought they had “found a connection” and wanted to see her again.
Exactly what she’d been afraid of.
“Will you meet me tonight?” he asked. “We could actually have dinner this time.”
Alex struggled to find a way to let him down easy. She carried way too much baggage for the average relationship. Instead, she said, “As much as I’d like to, I can’t. I’m leaving the country tomorrow.”
“Oh?” He sounded surprised and disappointed. “Where will you be going?”
“Stockholm,” she lied. “I’ve got some business to take care of.”
“Bounty hunting business?”
“Fugitive retrieval, remember?”
“Yes, that’s right, you’re a specialist.” She could almost hear the smile in his voice. “You seem to specialize in a number of things.”
It was a pointed remark and felt a little out of character for Gérard, but she didn’t make an issue of it. He was, after all, a man. And no matter how refined, men always want to talk about it afterward, most often in the form of ham-handed innuendo.
It wasn’t a game Alex had any interest in playing. “Have you heard from your client yet?”
The abrupt change in subject distanced him. “Yes. I have. He hasn’t had a chance to look at the photographs, so he promised to call me back tomorrow.”
“I’ll be gone by then.”
“So you said.” Another pause. “Alex, did I do something wrong?”
It’s not you, it’s me, she almost told him, a worn cliché that so often proved true in her case.
“No, of course not,” she said. “I’m just a little distracted right now, trying to get ready to go. I’m switching phones for the trip, so I won’t be available at this number. Why don’t you e-mail me when you’ve heard from your client?”
An even longer pause. “Of course.”
“Thanks, Thomas. It was great meeting you. We’ll talk soon.”
“I hope we do,” he said quietly, then hung up.
Now, standing outside GOLD KEY CHARTERS with Deuce, she felt like a jerk. Why couldn’t every relationship she had be as easygoing as the one she had with Deuce? He was an unpretentious guy who rarely expected anything of her except that she pull her weight, which she was more than happy to do. Sure, there was no romance, but maybe she was better off avoiding those kinds of entanglements entirely.