“I’m sure they would have a way of getting me out of here if they needed to.” She forced a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
Zane studied her expression. “You still worried about David?”
She nodded. “A little. A part of me worries that maybe he’s not here, that I’ve gotten my hopes up for nothing.”
“As I told you before, if he is here, then we’re going to find him.”
“You promise me you’ll look for him too?”
The night before, Danielle had distributed a dozen or so pictures of David to the team.
“Absolutely. He’s no less important than any of the others.”
Zane reached out and grabbed her arm. Then, remembering the feelings she once had for him, he pulled back.
She seemed to realize what he was thinking. “I’m sorry, Zane. I’ll be fine. I just panicked. It’s hard not knowing if David is okay.”
“I understand.” He checked the time again. “I need to get going.”
“Good luck. And don’t worry about me.”
Zane gave her a little smile then stood. After pushing his chair in, he walked over to the hors d’oeuvres table, picked up a plate, and began adding food: more jumbo shrimp, a few pieces of sushi, and several blinis topped with caviar. He took his time as he moved around the table to the other side. Once hidden by the tall chocolate fountain, he set his plate down and stepped off the dais. His goal had been to get to a place where he wouldn’t be seen by the man in black. When the program started in a couple of minutes, Zane guessed the lights would be dimmed. Once that happened, he would leave the ballroom and begin a search of the building.
After he had melted into the crowd, Zane spoke into his earpiece. “Danielle, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Can you see him?” Zane was referring to the man in black.
“Hold on a sec. There are some people blocking my view.” After a brief pause, she said, “He’s gone.”
Zane frowned. “I told you to keep an eye on him.”
“I did, but you also told me to look casual. I took a sip of champagne, then when I looked back, there were some people standing in the way.”
Zane realized there was little they could do now. It was possible the man had just stepped away momentarily. “Keep looking around. I need eyes on him.”
“I am. There are just so many people—”
“Do the best you can. And try not to look obvious.”
“Hey, it looks like there are some people on the stage now, so a lot of the security people are headed that way. Maybe that’s where he went.”
He hoped she was right. And yet, it was also possible that the man in black had suspected Zane was trying to slip away. If he had, then he might be circling the dais in order to find him again. Zane hoped they would dim the lights soon.
“Let me know if you spot him again,” Zane said.
“I will.”
Moments later, the lights dimmed, and Zane felt relief wash over him. If the man in black was trying to find him, it would be much more difficult now.
Zane looked toward the stage. A dark-haired man in his forties adjusted the microphone then introduced himself as the chief financial officer of Pallas. After telling an extremely bad joke, he began to go over a few financial highlights from the previous quarter.
Zane grabbed another flute of champagne and pushed his way through the crowd. His goal was to work his way toward the west end of the room, where he hoped to get access to the rest of the building. But the stage was also on that end, which was where most of the security personnel had gathered.
A few minutes later, Zane stopped behind a large group of people. It was the perfect spot because it kept him out of sight while at the same time giving him a clear view of the stage. The CFO had just wrapped up his remarks, and another man was at the podium to introduce Jonas Brehmer. Once the big reveal was made, Zane would—
A voice crackled through his earpiece, cutting off his thoughts. “Zane, are you there?”
It was Brett. Zane turned and faced the wall so that no one would hear him talking. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Where exactly?”
“I’m still in the ballroom, but I’m about to leave. Why?”
“I just talked to Pratt. He’s headed your way.”
Zane frowned. “I thought they were going to search the labs.”
“That’s why I’m touching base. While they were at the labs, they saw some of Brehmer’s men loading a large container into the back of a truck. That truck is now on its way to the main building.”
“Okay, so what’s in the crate?”
“They don’t know, but it’s something big and alive.”
“Something?”
Before Brett could answer, a thunderous applause broke out, and the lights across the room were dimmed. Zane turned to see Jonas Brehmer walking across the stage. The Pallas CEO shook the hand of the man who had introduced him, then stepped up to the podium.
Zane put a hand over his ear. “Sorry, Brehmer is about to give his remarks. Go ahead.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Brett, go ahead.”
The silence continued. Not only did Brett not respond, but there was no sound at all, not even the faint hiss that indicated a connection.
Zane tried one more time. “Brett, do you read?”
Zane waited for a full minute, but there was no response. Although there might be a number of reasons Brett wasn’t responding, one seemed to stand out more than the others: someone had cut off all electronic communications in the building.
He was on his own.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
MARTIN SLATER WATCHED Michel and Sophie Bergeron talking at their table. He had found it suspicious that the couple’s names weren’t on the primary guest list, but he had been watching the man even before that. Slater had first noted Michel Bergeron walking through the crowd at the end of the dock. The long-haired man’s physical size had initially drawn his attention, but it was his behavior that had raised a red flag.
A trained security professional, Slater had spent the better part of three decades sorting through faces in large crowds, looking for people who seemed out of place. It was never an easy task, but Slater’s experience had taught him the small things to look for, things most people wouldn’t notice. In the case of Michel Bergeron, Slater had noted the man’s reaction to the people who walked past him. If the person was another guest, Bergeron barely paid them any mind. But if it was a member of the security team, Bergeron would turn slightly in their direction. It was always subtle but not so subtle as to escape Slater’s seasoned eye.
So when there was a problem with the guest registry, it confirmed Slater’s original suspicions. Perhaps the Bergerons were exactly who they said they were, but Slater was going to keep an eye on them until he could establish that as a fact.
As Slater watched, Michel Bergeron stood, said something to his wife, then made his way over to the food table.
“Still watching them?” a man asked.
Turning, Slater saw Lars Ulrich standing next to him. Ulrich was Slater’s second-in-command and someone who knew the security profession almost as well as he did.
“Yes, for now, anyway.” Slater motioned for Ulrich to follow him. Once they were in a quieter place, he asked, “Did you run a search of their names?”
“Yes, and I have some good news. They’re all over the internet. They have money, and looks as though they’ve been active donors to a number of causes across Canada and the US.”