AllFreeNovel
Share Us
28
Olivia
She heard Agent Cliff’s voice from the Farm, telling her to blank out fear, to focus on what would come next. Gay would worry soon something had happened, try to call her. Then he’d come looking, maybe track her phone, but he’d be too late. And this man had no reason to let her live once he had what he wanted from her. Whatever would happen was all up to her.
“Drive out of this hideous place and turn right on Wilton Avenue.”
Olivia drove slowly out of the Willow Springs strip mall, turned right.
“Where are we going?”
“It is not your problem. Drive slow, but not too slow. Go straight until I tell you.”
“Where are you from in France?”
He laughed, a scratchy, Gauloises laugh.
“You like the accent? Most American women do, it makes them think of sex and sweaty sheets.”
“Or of smokers’ breath, heavy on the garlic.”
She heard an angry hiss, felt the muzzle dig in, and she flinched.
“Ferme ta gueule! Keep your mouth shut, bitch. No, stop, do not go through that yellow light.”
Olivia stopped as the light turned, watched the crossing cars stream through the intersection, homeward bound. She wanted to ask him which French arms dealer he worked for, but she had to pretend she knew as little about the flash drive as she could. “What do you want?”
“You know very well what I want. You are going to take me to Mike Kingman or you are going to summon him to us. You are lovers, of course you know where he is. You will tell me now or I will have to persuade you.”
“I don’t know where he is, no one does. Don’t you mean what your employer wants? You know, the man who tells you what to do, the man who gives you orders? Who do you work for?”
The muzzle dug in again. She said, “Listen to me, whoever you are, if I knew where Mike is, if the CIA knew where he is, I wouldn’t be in a CIA safe house, hidden from you people. Of course you know all about Monday night, about those two men who came to my house. One of them was called Razhan, an Iranian security agent who’s been killing people for fifteen years for his masters. But you’re French. Who’s your master?”
Olivia felt his gloved hand reach around her neck and squeeze, hard enough that she jerked and the RAV swerved. He cursed, dropped his hand. She looked at him in her rearview. He was wearing sunglasses, a hat and scarf. She wouldn’t know him if she walked past him on the street, but she’d never forget his voice. She grinned at him. “You know Kingman is gone, disappeared. Everyone’s thinking he stole whatever it is your boss wants and plans to sell it to the highest bidder. Chances are he’ll try to sell it to your boss, so why threaten me when your boss can buy whatever it is from him? What’s a few million euros, petty cash to him, right?”
She heard contempt in his voice. “You give me an excellent joke. You are saying this agent is a traitor? This man you have sex with?”
Olivia shrugged. “Sex is only sex, isn’t that what you French say? Enough people believe Kingman’s a traitor. He’d be a fool to tell me, tell anyone, where he is. Hey, maybe he’s already contacted your boss.”
The muzzle against her neck relaxed a tiny bit.
Was he thinking through this new development? Would his boss be willing to pay Kingman for the flash drive rather than have him kill both agents? It would be much cleaner.
Olivia said, “Besides, do you think I haven’t already tried to call Mike? Do you think he’s stupid enough to have his cell phone on? It would be traced and he’d be found—caught—and this something you want would be in CIA hands. I’ll bet you he’s smashed his phone, bought a burner that can’t be traced to him. Seems to me he’s calling the shots, and you people are blundering around trying to take me when I have no idea what’s going on or where he is. If I did, I’d tell my superior and he’d find him, arrest him.”
“Even if part of what you say is true, you may be in this with him.”
She gave him a quick look again in the rearview. “But you should call your boss, ask him what he wants you to do, right?”
A snort. “I do not need to speak to anyone until you tell me everything you know. Shut up, keep driving straight. We are leaving this ugly city.”
They were already several blocks down Wilton, and traffic was thinning out. They’d end up in Maryland unless they turned at some isolated place he had ready for her and Mike. Olivia said, “Your boss wants this something Mike Kingman has. Why don’t you tell me what it is?”
“Stop your ridiculous lies. You already know, you are playing the games with me. Be quiet and keep driving. I will tuck you away if I have to, make sure Kingman hears I have you. Then he will come to me, or I will wring your neck like the chicken.” He was leaning forward now, his breath on her cheek. “Turn right on Krager. It is what you call a shortcut.”
There was a red light coming up ahead, and a busy intersection. A chance. Olivia readied herself, studied the cars. She saw a big black Ford F350 driving fast toward the light on Krager, saw the driver was yelling at the person in the passenger seat, not paying much attention. She slowed a bit as if she was going to turn then suddenly floored it into the intersection. She saw a brief flash of the truck driver’s terrified face, felt the muzzle of the gun fall away, heard the man cursing in French as they slammed into the rear driver’s side of the truck. She was ready when the airbags exploded, but the Frenchman was leaning forward, thrown sideways. She pushed back hard against the airbag, reached down, and pulled her small Walther PP2 from its ankle holster. She flattened herself under the airbag and fired through the front seat, heard him yell in pain; she kept firing until the magazine was empty.
“Bitch! I could kill you now, but you are going to pay first.”
