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Definitely, cacotopia.
CHAPTER29
LOUIS
Nikolai Smirnoff—head of the Intervention Squad for MINDFUCH—six of his elite agents, and I are armed and clad in bulletproof vests as we drive through the dark city to the address Grandpa’s PI sent me.
After I left Camille, I went to my room to call Magdalena. I stared at the phone. Pulled up her number. Prepared the opening sentence in my head. But I couldn’t bring myself to tap Call.
My thoughts kept going back to my conversation with Camille. I had overreacted, and I knew it. If I’d given her until tomorrow morning, I suspect she would’ve shared Joseph’s confession about Jeannette’s role. The implications of that piece of intel were too big for her to keep it to herself. Camille knew it.
She just needed a bit more time to come to terms with it first.
Once I acknowledged that, my rage dissipated. I asked myself why Camille’s delay had rattled me so much.Had it brought back Mother’s countless breaches of my trust?That insight made me wonder why I was comparing her to Mother. Was it because we’re associates? Only, Jonas and Celeste are my associates, but I don’t expect us to have total trust in one another.
I’d expect that with my wife, though.
It occurred to me then that I’d reacted as if Camille was my bona fide wife, not a temporary partner or pretend wife, but a life partner.
When my phone rang, I already knew I wasn’t hooking up with Magdalena. The caller was Grandpa’s PI. He told me Camille had been shoved into a car minutes ago, but fortunately, he was right behind them, and so far the kidnappers hadn’t spotted him. They were headed northeast about to hit the beltway. He said he’d call me back again, but now he had to focus so he didn’t miss an exit or lose them.
As soon as we hung up, I dialed Nikolai. He said he’d have a team ready in ten minutes. By the time the PI called me with an address in a suburb called Romainville, I was in the car, northbound. Nikolai objected to me joining the operation, but I pulled rank. Besides, it was me who had the address, so he didn’t really have a choice. He wanted me in his van, geared up, armed and briefed though. We intersected before the exit at Portes des Lilas, where I left the car and got into the van.
“It’s here,” the driver says.
We pull over a few meters before a squat house. It looks abandoned. Nikolai orders everyone to stay inside the van. He sends two agents out to do a recon of the house. They return within minutes.
“Standard alarm, no cameras,” one of them says. “We found detonators on the front and back doors and disarmed them. No other booby traps that we could detect.”
“All of the windows have bars,” the second agent adds. “The back door looks like the best point of entry.”
At Nikolai’s signal, we rush around the house to the back door. Moving fast, Nikolai’s men disable the alarm and pick the lock. We go in. The house is quiet except for muted sounds from the basement.
Nikolai gestures to two of the men to check the rest of the house.
He then points out a staircase leading down and whispers, “We’ll storm the basement. You keep behind us, OK?”
I nod.
Quietly, we descend the stairs to a landing where we find another door. Behind it, two male voices exchange lines that I can’t make out. No female voice. Maybe Camille isn’t there. I prefer to think she isn’t there than to imagine she’s gagged, unconscious, or…
Nikolai motions for us to stand on both sides of the door, while one of his guys pulls out a tool to pick the lock. One of the voices behind the door grows louder. I can hear approaching steps. Nikolai’s man draws away from the door.
The guy on the other side is close enough that I can hear what he’s saying.
“She’ll sing, my friend! It would be a pity to ruin a beautiful woman.”
Glancing at me, Nikolai touches a forefinger to his mouth, before turning back to the door and miming instructions to his men.
In a flash, I recall how I mocked Camille for her miming.What a bloated piece of shit I was!
A lock clicks, the handle jerks down, and the door flings open.
A man in a black turtleneck steps out, saying into his phone, “Sorry for making you wait, Sir!”
One of Nikolai’s agents grabs him from behind and presses something to his mouth and nose. I’m guessing, a chloroform-soaked cloth. As the guy’s body goes limp, another agent catches the phone before it hits the hard floor and helps the first one carry the unconscious kidnapper away from the door. They don’t make a sound. The rest of us sneak in through the door, led by Nikolai.
I spot Camille at once. She’s in the center of the room, her head and upper body drenched, and her teeth chattering.
