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“Her name’s Georgia, and she’s staying at the La Réserve Paris. Her seatmate is Ryan. He says he’s staying there too.” I shoot off the email.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to sit down. We’re expecting some turbulence.” A flight attendant gestures toward my seat.
“I can tell.” I point to my gut. “Not feeling so hot.”
A slight grimace flickers over her face before the practiced professional smile returns. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure, I’ll take a water.” The flight attendant leaves, and I strain to hear the conversation between Georgia and Ryan. He’s busy telling her about his exciting job as a textiles buyer who is visiting some art studios for pattern designs while she fights to keep her eyes open.
“What’re your plans? Except for a couple dinners, I’m open.”
“I’m playing it by ear,” she hedges. Because she isn’t interested or she has a body to take down?
“Sure. Sure. Let me give you my number so it’s easier to stay in touch.” He pulls out his phone. “I’ve got the tap feature which you know you can’t do with the other phones. I like how you can swipe down and access all the controls. See here. I’ve got my whole house automated. One tap and I can turn on the lights. Got some video cameras set up. One even in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“I think I might be sick.” She pops up from the chair and rushes by me into the bathroom that just emptied.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the flight attendant hurries over.
“It’s fine. Don’t feel sick anymore but”—I lower my voice—“seems this woman’s seatmate might be feeling his liquor a little too much.”
The flight attendant’s eyes flick toward Ryan. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
“If someone needs to trade, I’m open,” I offer.
“We’ll take care of her. There’s a bathroom toward the economy class cabins if you’d like.” She really wants me to sit down.
“Thanks.” Planes suck for all sorts of reasons, but the biggest one is that there’s no freedom of movement. I return to my seat and keep an eye out for Georgia. She exits the bathroom, but before she can return to her pod, the flight attendant appears at her side. The two have a short conversation. Georgia shakes her head, probably turning down the offer of being moved. Whatever is said doesn’t result in a seat trade.
I press the call button, and a moment later, the flight attendant hurries down to my side. “Sir, she did not want to move. She put the divider up and is going to sleep. Thank you again for your offer.”
She’s irritated with me, which means I’m going to stick in her memory bank, so I decide not to press my luck with more questions. “Great. I’ll take that bottle of water.”
“Of course.”
I’ve had more interaction with the flight crew in the last half hour than I have had this whole year. Mercy would be disgusted if she knew. First, I was made, and now I’m leaving fingerprints all over this woman’s memory. I’ll have to avoid this airline if I ever have another job in France.
I check my emails to see that Mercy has me booked into Georgia’s hotel. “No rooms are assigned yet, but I put notes in hers as well as yours that you want a street view on a floor above floor three. There are only five floors, and the top one is the presidential suites, so you should both be booked on the fourth floor. If necessary, I’ll move the rooms. Her full name is Olivia Georgia Newman. She’s 26. Lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment that she rents. At least that’s the only one in her name. She probably has others under different aliases, but I haven’t found them yet. There’s a code attached to her room, and I’m not sure what it means. I’ll keep digging. Au revoir!”
I tuck the information into the back of my head and review my game plan for my mark. The man is a Parisian lawyer who has been helping to traffic guns that are supposed to go to the French Legionnaires but are being diverted to a mercenary group aligned with Russia. I’m not to take him lightly as he is a former Legionnaire himself—a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Mercy’s dossier includes all of his financials, his work schedule, and his known acquaintances.
He’s been seeing an up-and-coming designer and is funding her current collection. They have a stormy relationship, and he’s known to have cheated on her several times. It’s only a matter of time before someone sticks a knife in his gullet. I’ll make it look like a crime of passion. A knife from his own kitchen or maybe a wine bottle to the head. I’ll make that call when I’m at the scene. Paris shuts down between three and seven, and that’s the time a man would meet his lover.
As for Georgia, I’ll want to plant eyes and ears in her room. I send an email asking for a floor plan. A streetside room would make it difficult for me to get into her place from the outside, so I’ll need to look at the HVAC system. In those old Paris buildings, there usually are no ducts. It’s radiators and in-room air conditioners in the more lux places. If there’s no convenient way into her room, I’ll have to run up a disguise. Cable or Wi-Fi tech is the easiest. I have a service uniform that I had planned to use for the lawyer, but it’ll work for Georgia too.
Once I have my eyes and ears planted, I can make the decision as to how I’m going to handle Georgia. Who knows, maybe I’m open to being recruited if she’d be my boss.
ChapterFour
GEORGIA
“Ithink I had too much champagne.” I wobble to my feet to get to my bag. Oh, I need my phone to find the address of my hotel.
“I’ve got it.” Ryan pulls my bag down from the overhead bin for me. He’s been overly nice, but there is something about him that rubs me the wrong way.
“Thanks.” I take the handle as the door to the plane opens so we can all deboard. The line moves pretty quickly as we file out. As soon as I clear the gate door, I see that there’s a bathroom straight ahead. I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that I can make my escape for a few moments. “It was nice meeting you,” I tell Ryan before I try to dart into the bathroom.
“I’ll wait for you. We can share a car to the hotel.” Crap. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
