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No matter what it takes.
“Then we agree?” Anton asks, pulling me back from my thoughts.
“This girl,” the agent says. “She better be as good at disguising as you say, or your plan will blow up in your faces. If Dimitrov suspects for one second—”
“She’s good.” I finish my espresso. “You can take my word for it.”
Mina will have to disguise the two hotel staff members posing as us, as well as herself. We’ll have to do it in a different location. Maybe an apartment nearby. Ilya is already looking into it.
“What’s the timeline?” the agent asks.
Rising, I adjust my jacket. “Three weeks.”
He gets to his feet and shakes my hand. “Text me the date and time. Everything will be ready.”
Anton sees him out. When he gets back to the lounge of the hotel suite we rented for the meeting, I’m reading the email from our hackers about Petrova’s whereabouts. She has a charity ball scheduled in Austria in two weeks’ time. Then the opening of a new art gallery in Vienna. After that, she’s planning a vacation in Spain to work on her tan. It looks like Natasha Petrova will be making a deviation in her traveling plans. She can definitely work in a secret visit to Prague before hitting Puerto Banús.
By the time the paparazzi catches her on camera, sipping champagne with Antonio Banderas and Nicole Kimpel on their luxury yacht in the glamorous port, Dimitrov will already be dead.
19
Mina
Every second counts. I give Ilya about an hour before he realizes I’m not coming back. That means I have a one-hour head start. Ostrava is more than a three-hour drive away. That gives me four hours before Yan gets back to Prague. By then, I’ll be well on my way. As long as I’m on the move, I’ll maintain a four-hour advantage.
When we drove to the old town, I paid attention to our surroundings, so now I go straight to the electronics store and buy a cheap burner phone. In a quiet alcove, I dial a secure number.
Gergo picks up immediately. “Mink?” He only uses my professional name in the unlikely event that the secure line, a number only the two of us use, is compromised.
“My grandmother would like to invite you for tea,” I say.
“A visit is long overdue. When is a good time?”
“Can you come over at five-thirty?”
“Shall I bring some Earl Grey?” That’s code for weapons. “I’ve recently been to Russia. I stocked up. I know your grandmother doesn’t like the British kind.”
“That’s considerate but not necessary. See you there.”
I cut the call and dump the phone in a trashcan before flagging down a taxi.
“The train station, please,” I tell the driver.
In less than thirty minutes, I’m on the train and on my way to Budapest, the last of Ilya’s money spent on a ticket.
Sick with nerves, I put out of my mind what Yan will do to me when he finds me and focus on my plan.
Get to Budapest. Take care of my grandmother’s future. Warn Gergo.
It would’ve been a piece of cake to slip into a restaurant, nick a steak knife, and cut out the tracker in the bathroom, but I need the money Yan promised me for the job. I need to provide for Hanna, to make sure her needs will be met when I’m no longer around.
At least that’s what I tell myself. I’m not reluctant to leave Yan. I can’t be. That wouldn’t make any sense.
At every station, my stomach grows tighter. At every stop, I expect Yan to hop onto the train and drag me away, even if it’s unlikely unless he charters a helicopter. But just over seven hours later, the train pulls into Budapest without any incidents.
With no money left, I go to the nearest boutique bank office and tell the private banker my handbag was stolen on the train, all my cards and passport gone, and that I’m on my way to make a declaration at the police station. After verifying my identity with a fingerprint scanner, I make a small withdrawal. At the pharmacy next door, I buy foundation and lipstick, and apply a thick coat of each to conceal the faint bruises and almost-healed cut on my lip.
A taxi drops me off at the private clinic in District 11.
The receptionist knows me well. She smiles when I enter. “Miss Belan. It’s been a while.”
“I’ve been traveling. How is she?”
Her look is sympathetic. “She has her days.” Her face brightens. “Seeing you will definitely cheer her up.”
“Can I go through?”
“Of course.” She picks up the phone. “I’ll let the nurse know you’re on your way.”
I make my way through the long hallway, my sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor. Natural light filters through the skylights and contemporary art brightens the clean white of the walls, while floor-to-ceiling windows encase the spacious lounge, giving a magnificent view of the city. A staircase takes me to the first floor. At the end of the hall, I pause to gather myself. Carefully schooling my features, I knock and enter.
