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46
Olivia
Boathouse on the Potomac
René came loping out of the copse of hemlocks, looking pleased with himself. He said in French to Claude, “I searched the boathouse and there is no one, only Mike Kingman. I have seen the flash drive. It is legitimate.” He looked at Olivia. “Kingman is a fool; he trades for something more important than you could ever be. You are only one woman of many.”
He turned again to Claude. “Kingman is no problem. I looked all around the boathouse. There is no one.” Still, he paused, looked around yet again, saw nothing. “You have looked as well?”
Claude said, his voice impatient, “Of course. No sign of anyone. We are the only ones here.”
Suddenly, René whirled around, searched the trees, his gun at the ready. “I heard something.”
Claude said, “You’re hearing the tree branches rustling in the wind. You have looked, I have looked. Time to finish it, René, time to get this over with and get out. I don’t like this place.” He turned to Olivia. “At last you are silent. If you are planning something, believe me, it will not succeed. And I will be forced to kill you.”
Olivia laughed in his face. “Yeah, sure, that’d be smart. If you do kill me, you’ll never get your precious flash drive. Mike will make certain of that.”
Claude said, “No, no one’s going to try anything because Kingman is your lover. He won’t take a chance of our killing you. He will do as he’s told.” He turned to René. “I spoke to your brother. He is pleased, but impatient for you to call him with news of the drive.”
René said slowly, with hint of contempt, “Henri always has the impatience. Very well, but Claude, faîtes attention, nothing must go wrong.” He gave Claude a vicious grin. “Timothy told me Henri kills you if you return to France without it—he laughed, called it Henri’s mortal discipline.” René looked around again, past the stripped oak branches whipping around in the bitter wind, shuddered. “I hate American winters. They are too cold.”
Olivia’s heart beat a mad tattoo. So René was the boss’s brother? So Henri was another Frenchman. He wouldn’t have let her hear his name unless they’d planned to kill her and Mike all along.
“Claude, I walk behind her. Then you. Do not forget, faîtesattention.” René shoved his Sig into Olivia’s back. “Walk, girl.” Claude took his place behind them, scanning the trees, his Beretta moving, ever moving.
They walked into a small open space at the front of the boathouse, René still behind her. There’d once been a stone path to the boat ramp, but there were only chunks of rock left, dead winter weeds nearly covering them. René stopped, and now he pressed his Sig against Olivia’s temple. He called out, “Mike Kingman, open the door. We are here with Olivia. She is dead if you do not obey.”
The sagging door was slowly pulled inward. Mike stood in the doorway, the flash drive in his right hand, his Glock in his left, again trained on René. He saw Claude, frowned, but stepped back. “Come inside. If this man tries anything, you will be the first one I shoot.”
Mike quickly closed the door against the frigid wind. He met Olivia’s eyes and smiled. “Hello, beautiful.”
René laughed. “Keep the close eye on her, Claude.” René walked to one of the beaded curtains, pulled it back. It was the same as before, a narrow wooden cot, several blankets piled on top. He walked to the other beaded curtain, pulled it back, saw only the toilet and a small shower. Satisfied, he turned to Mike. “You are still alone so you are not entirely stupid. Now you will again show me the flash drive on your mobile, prove to me you did not switch it.”
Mike did as he asked, difficult with one hand, but he managed, his Glock still pointed at René’s chest. Again, René looked at the cell phone display, saw only the prompt asking for the encryption key. He grunted. “That is wise of you. Here is the woman, unharmed. Give me the flash drive.”
Mike said nothing, pulled the drive from his cell phone, but he didn’t give it to René, he waited.
René nodded. “Claude, release her and Kingman will give me the drive.”
Claude didn’t release Olivia. He calmly pulled her back against him and pressed the muzzle of his Beretta against her left ear.
René grinned. “And now we have the impasse, do we not? You shoot me and she is dead. You try to shoot Claude, and you are dead. So give me the flash drive, it is easier.”
Olivia said, “Don’t give it to him, Mike. He’s planned all along to kill us. He told me he’s working for his brother, Henri is his name, in France.”
Claude dug the Beretta into her ear and she sucked in her breath. “Shut up, woman, or you are dead where you stand.”
Olivia believed him. She watched Mike toss René the flash drive, saw René slip it into his coat pocket. “And now what, Kingman? Will you shoot me and watch her die, or will you throw your Glock to the floor?”
Mike saw the look of surprise on René’s face when he laid his Glock on the floor, straightened. “Let her go now. Send her over to me.”
René was enjoying himself. He loved the feeling when he’d beaten an enemy, when he’d won it all. It was as he’d always believed. The Americans were easily duped, a fine term Claude had taught him. Kingman was willing to do anything to save a woman, the fool. He said, “Claude, send her to her lover. It warms the heart, does it not, that they want to be together?”
Claude pushed Olivia toward Mike. Mike shoved her behind him. René laughed. “You play hero to the end, eh?” And he raised his Sig, a look of anticipation on his face.
Savich stepped from behind the beaded bedroom curtain. “René, Claude, drop your weapons. Do it immediately or my agents at the windows will fire.”
René froze, but only for an instant. He kept his Sig pointed at Mike’s chest. “You cannot shoot me. I will kill him if you try. Where were you hiding? I looked.”
