“Bonsoir. Qu'est ce que je peux vous servir?”
“Um...a Diet Coke please?”
“Bien.”
“Merci,” I said, glad I could say something in French. He left, but came right back with a bottle of soda and a glass, which he poured for me. I thanked him again and gratefully took a big swig. Feeling more settled, I took out my phone.
Blake had given me Gabriel’s number to call, which I was ready to do. I mean, Blake might be dead, but even if he wasn’t, I could sure use some help. I turned on my phone, realizing that it had been on silent since the concert. It was probably a good thing, since I’d missed about six calls. Thoughts of having my phone ring while stuck in that cemetery sent a chill up my spine.
One call was from Chris, but the rest were from Ramos. What did that mean? Neither of them had left a message. I knew I should call Gabriel, but right now, I wanted to talk to someone who actually cared about me. Since Ramos had called so many times, I called him first and hoped Chris never found out. “Ramos?”
“Babe. Where are you? I’ve been calling you all night.”
Just then, my throat closed up and I had to get my emotions under control before I could speak. “I’m okay. I’m sitting in a café with a Diet Coke, but I’m not sure where. Things have been... a little dicey... and I’m okay, but these guys were chasing me. I got away, but now... I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry to dump this on you... but... I just wish you were here.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Not really. Just a few scrapes and bruises.”
He let out a breath. “Good, then listen to me. After you left, Manetto was pretty upset with Blake’s interference and the whole situation. So to help him out, I volunteered to come to Paris... just to make sure you were okay.”
“What? You mean you’re here?” Relief and joy rolled over me in a soothing wave of hope.
“Yeah. I got in a couple of hours ago.”
“That’s...” I sniffed, and my eyes filled with tears. “So great... I can’t believe it. You’re here.”
“Yes. Now all we have to do is meet up. I have a rental, so I need you to tell me what street you’re on and I’ll come get you.”
“Okay. Hang on and I’ll ask the waiter.” I glanced up and found him standing behind the bar, talking to another man. I hurried over to him and tried to give him a smile, but I don’t think it worked very well. “Hi... uh... bonsoir... I ... uh... je...” My mind went blank since I had no idea how to ask for the address.
“It’s okay,” he said taking pity on me. “I speak English. What do you need?”
“Oh... thank you... I need the address to this place... I mean your address... here at the café.”
He smiled and nodded. “Oui... I understand. I will write it down for you.” He took out a pen and wrote the address on a napkin. “Voilà.”
“Thank you. Thanks so much. Merci beaucoup.”
“De rien.”
I hurried back to my table before speaking into the phone. “Okay, here it is.” I rattled off the address, and Ramos told me to sit tight and he’d be there soon. He disconnected, and my shoulders sagged with relief. I could hardly believe that Ramos was here. And he was coming to get me. How awesome was that? I might actually survive the night.
Once my diet soda was gone, the waiter brought another, bringing a happy smile to my face. After pouring it, he asked if there was anything else I needed. “No... this is great, thanks.” He left the bill, and I took out the euros to pay, deciding to leave him a little extra for his kindness.
While I sipped my drink, I kept my gaze glued to the window looking out onto the street, hoping Ramos wouldn’t be much longer. A few cars went by, and I wished I knew what kind of car he was driving. A chill of unease washed over me with each passing moment, sending my stomach into tight ball, and I began to feel like a sitting duck.
Just then, a man slid into the seat across from me, and I gasped with alarm. Holy hell! How did he find me? Another man slid beside me onto my bench, and I scooted away from him into the corner. Now that I was trapped by the same men who’d been chasing me, my heart raced with fear. I glanced around the café, hoping to summon some help. But... the place was empty. Even the waiter had disappeared.
“Ah,” the smaller man across from me said. “The café is closed. It is just us. So... if you value your life, you will tell us how you knew about Cypher.”
“Uh...” I swallowed, not sure how to answer that question without ending up dead. “What makes you think I know who that is? I don’t know anyone with that name.”
“That is the wrong answer. Do you want to try again?”
“Not really.”
The big man beside me grabbed my hair and pulled my head back to expose my neck, then held the point of a knife against my throat. “Tell us how you know, or you will die, right here, right now.”
“Okay. Okay,” I choked out. After several terrifying seconds, he let go of me, and I cringed away to rub my throat. I swallowed and caught my breath, trying to figure out what to say to stay alive and give Ramos enough time to get here. “Uh... my source is someone in your organization, but I’ve only talked to him on the phone or by text, so I don’t know his name or what he looks like.”
“You are saying there is a traitor in our group?” He looked at the man sitting next to me, and I heard him thinking, Impossible. I actually understood that.
“It’s true. But I don’t know anything else about him.”
“Could you identify him by hearing his voice?”
“Um... I guess so.” His eyes narrowed, and his lips drew together in an angry grimace, so I quickly added. “I mean... yeah, I’m pretty sure I could.”
“Then get up. You are coming with us.”
As they stood, I had no choice but to leave the booth with them, so I did it as slowly as I could. With a growl of impatience, one man grabbed my arm, while the other went ahead and opened the café door. I shuffled forward on trembling legs, hoping to slow them down. Where was Ramos? Shouldn’t he be here by now?
Before I knew it, I was outside on the sidewalk with a man on either side of me, holding my arms in their tight grasps, and ushering me down the sidewalk toward a parked car. I knew if I got in that car, I was as good as dead.
Shelby? Ramos’ voice sent relief crashing through me, and my step faltered. Both men jerked me forward with muttered curses. Don’t worry, I’m here. I let out a relieved breath and nodded while my eyes filled with tears. I quickly blinked them away, knowing this was not the time to fall apart. Ramos was here. He’d get me out of this.
We reached the car. In one swift motion, I was shoved inside the back seat, with one captor right beside me, while the other got behind the wheel. The door shut on Ramos’ thought of I’m right behind you.
As comforting as that was, I couldn’t help worrying that he might lose us in traffic. Why hadn’t he stopped them before now? Pushing that unhelpful thought away, I focused on my surroundings and any points of interest or street signs, so I’d know where I was when we stopped. I also listened to my captors’ thoughts, but since they were all in French, it didn’t help a bit.
Roughly fifteen minutes later, we turned into a quiet neighborhood and pulled up in front of a three story house on a rounded corner. The bottom floor was covered in stone with a door right off the side walk and three deep-set windows on either side. The two top floors were done in brick with one balcony window fronting the street. All the windows had iron bars across them, and a concrete wall with a blue door encased the yard in the back.
Rather than go inside through the front door, they opened the blue door to the yard, which led to a set of stairs that wound around to the second floor of the building. Pausing at the top of the stairs while they opened the door, I listened for all I was worth to hear Ramos, but nothing came, and my heart sank with despair.
Then they pushed me inside, and my chance was gone. I could only hope he was close, but I also didn’t want him to get killed t
rying to save me. I had to believe he would take his time to find a way to get to me when he had the best chance of success. That realization helped settle the nervous jitters in my stomach, but it didn’t stop the tears from gathering in my eyes.
“Sit,” the smaller man said, indicating a chair at a small table. “Hold out your hands.” As I did, he proceeded to wrap a zip-tie around my wrists and pull it tightly together. This didn’t bother me too much, because I’d seen a video of how to break it and knew it could be done. I’d never tried it, but I was willing to give it a go once they left the room.
The smaller one left but, unfortunately, the big guy didn’t budge. As I nervously chewed on my bottom lip, I took in my surroundings. Besides two chairs and a table, the room held a couch with lamps on end tables, and a bookcase on the other wall. A double door beside my chair led to the balcony I’d seen from the outside and was covered by sheer, white curtains.
From the other room, I could hear the men talking, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to understand. Still, one of them sounded angry, and I hoped it didn’t mean I was a goner. Now I had to figure out what to tell them. I was pretty sure that accusing one of them as my informant wasn’t going to keep me alive for long, and I tried not to burst into tears.
Steps sounded outside the door, then the smaller man returned, followed by six others, all dressed similarly in dark clothing and with unshaven faces. Three of them sported several bruises and cuts, and I knew they were the ones who’d attacked us.
Did that mean Blake and Mason were here somewhere, or did they get away? I listened to their thoughts and picked up a smattering of English and French, along with a couple of other languages I couldn’t place.
I tried to shut out the other languages and focus on the English speaker. It was difficult, but after a minute, I was pretty sure the English-thinking man stood the furthest away from me. He caught my gaze, and his cold stare and open hostility sent chills down my spine. I instinctively knew he was a cold-blooded killer. Probably just like the rest of them.
“You have told my men quite a story,” the leader said, stepping forward. His accent wasn’t French, but something more middle-eastern, if I had to guess. “That one of us is a traitor.”
I swallowed, but I couldn’t seem to make my voice work enough to respond and hoped he didn’t really expect me to.
“Well?” he said.
“Um...” I cleared my throat. “Are you Cypher?”
His eyes narrowed, but he shook his head. “No.” He moved closer and knelt down on one knee, invading my space. “There is a reason our leader is called Cypher. No one has met him, or seen him, but rest assured, Cypher gives the orders and expects results. He does not do the tasks he has paid us to do. But I am sure he would not be happy to learn of a traitor in our midst... if it is true. So, I will order my men to give you the phrase you remember from your phone conversation, and you will tell me if you recognize the voice of your contact.”
“Oh... okay, but... don’t you think the real traitor might alter his voice so I won’t know for sure? I mean, what if that happens?”
He gave a derisive huff and stood. “That is a stupid question. We will all know if someone sounds different from how they normally speak.”
“Oh yeah, sure.” I cleared my throat and swallowed. “Okay, this is what everyone needs to say... ‘Cypher has obtained the bioweapon and is ready to use it.’”
I heard a lot of surprised thoughts from that one, but the biggest came from the man who thought in English. His eyes narrowed, and a few choice, four-letter words flew out. He was thinking that my assertion of a traitor had to be true if I knew that much, but who could it be? His men were loyal. He knew that first hand. It couldn’t be any of them. Did this mean that stupid American agent knew? Or was I acting on my own? Even Mason didn’t know the extent of his plans, so what was going on?
Why was he thinking that? The man questioning me was the leader, so what the English-speaking guy was thinking didn’t make any sense. I also caught an image of a vent along a tiled wall. The only place I’d seen anything like that was in the metro-system. Was that where they were going to release the weapon?
“Fine,” the leader said, after thinking it over. “Everyone say it, starting with you.” He pointed at the big guy closest to me.
After he repeated the words, they all took their turns, ending with the English guy. His tone took on an edge of menace, and he was thinking that he was ready to strangle me. But not before he discovered how I knew so much. No one had ever come this close to his secret. He would find out my source, and then he would kill me. Then he thought ... and she will never know that Cypher was standing right in front of her the whole time...
My eyes widened, but I glanced away, hoping he hadn’t noticed. My pulse raced, and my breath hitched. If he was Cypher, that meant I could identify him. This was huge. But first, I had to get out of this alive which, right now, didn’t look so likely.
The leader caught my gaze and raised a skeptical brow. “So... who is it?”
“Is this everyone?” I asked, trying to buy some time. His mouth flattened into an angry frown, so I quickly continued. “Could you all say it once more? I just want to be sure... you wouldn’t want me accusing the wrong guy, right?”
He shook his head. “Fine. Do it again.”
This time, I closed my eyes so they’d think I was concentrating really hard, but in reality, I was mostly trying to figure out what to say. After Cypher repeated the phrase, I knew what to do, and I opened my eyes, going for a confidence and determination I didn’t feel.
“Tell Cypher I want to make a deal.” I turned my gaze to Cypher and continued. “I have information, but it is only for him and no one else.”
“No,” the leader said, glaring at me. “No deals. You tell me now, or I start cutting you up into little pieces.” To emphasize his point, he pulled out a switch blade and flipped it open.
A surge of fear spiked through my heart, and my breath caught. Still, I kept my gaze on Cypher and spoke as boldly as I could. “I don’t think Cypher would want that. Maybe you should ask him first.”
This time the leader caught my gaze and followed it to the man I knew was Cypher. “Why do you keep looking at him?” When I didn’t answer, he turned his gaze back to me and stepped close enough to place the flat of his blade against my cheek. “Tell me.”
“Because...”
“Enough,” Cypher said. “Put the knife away.” He thought about Blake and turned to the leader, speaking in rapid French. “Emmenez-la en bas à la cave avec les autres. Je veux parler à eux seuls.”
“Pensez-vous qu'elle dit la vérité?”
“Oui. Peut-être qu'elle sera plus disposé à parler si elle me voit les torturer.”
“Vous avez probablement raison,” the leader said, stepping away from me. “This is your last chance to tell me who the traitor is, otherwise you will be killed.”
Since I’d only picked up the torture part, and something about a cave, I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I had to try one last time. “I will gladly tell Cypher who the traitor is. You just need to let me speak to him. I can’t trust any of you to tell him the truth. That’s why I have to do it. I also have information he needs. Important information.”
“And you won’t tell me?”
“No.”
He turned to the big guy next to me and spoke. “Emmenez-la à rejoindre les autres.”
The big guy stood and pulled me to my feet. Since I was shaking so bad, he practically dragged me to the door. I glanced over my shoulder for one last look at Cypher. He was thinking that he could easily get to the bottom of this. All he had to do was torture Blake in front of me. Hearing him scream should make me spill my guts. After I told him what I knew, and more important, how I knew it, he’d kill us both.
Chapter 7
After hearing that, I could hardly walk. The big guy gripped my arm and closed the door behind us, then started down the stairs, dragging me behind hi
m. Lost in my misery, I barely caught the whisper of a familiar voice. It finally dawned on me that Ramos had sent a thought my way, but I’d missed it. Then it came again.
Shelby! At the bottom of the stairs, I need you to drop to the ground. Nod if you hear me.
Overcome with gratitude, I nodded vigorously. Lucky for me, my captor missed my antics and didn’t even look my way. With my heart racing, we came to the last step, and I sagged like a dead weight to the ground.
It caught my captor off balance, and he staggered forward. At that moment, Ramos came from behind and hit him over the head with something hard. He went down with a grunt, and Ramos grabbed my arm, thinking, let’s go!
I was about to protest that we needed to find Blake first, but the big guy groaned and rubbed his head. Just then, the door above us opened, and the light from the open doorway shone down on us. With adrenaline pumping, we took off through the gate, and I let Ramos lead me down the road to his waiting car.
“It’s unlocked, so get in!” he said, letting go of my arm and running to the driver’s side.
My hands were still zip-tied together, so I lifted my arms and brought them down hard across my body, using the technique I’d seen on the video. Just like that, the tie broke. I tugged the door open and jumped inside.
Ramos had the car in gear and peeled out before I even had my door shut. Still, I heard angry shouts behind us. I glanced out the back window. Two men jumped into their car, but it was facing the wrong direction. As they started turning it around, Ramos pulled down a side street and floored it.
From the street map on the dashboard, along with the GPS in the car, it looked like Ramos knew exactly where to go. I glanced behind but couldn’t tell if anyone was after us. “Turn around, and put on your seatbelt,” Ramos said. “I’ll tell you if I spot them.”
I let out my breath and nodded, then found my seatbelt and put it on. After several turns, we came out on a street with two lanes and followed it to a freeway entrance. On the freeway, he sped up and maneuvered back and forth between cars, sending nervous spasms through my chest.