Page 73
Story: Red Line
He stared hard at her in the partial glow of the overhead light, trying to see past any CIA-taught makeup skills.
Then he snapped himself back to reality. He didn’t know who this woman was.Elenawas his mission. How could he keep control?
He didn’t grab at Elena or try to stop this. It would have been illegal and also pointless. Men trapped in the traffic jam behind him would climb from their cars and intervene. The best he could do was let Elena go and track her to the next site with the trackers he’d planted.
Nomad pressed his handkerchief to staunch the blood flow before it hit his white shirt. He did have to go back and retrieve Frau Leitner.
Elena was obviously weighing the situation. He had saved her, and the woman in red had fought to save her. In the end, Nomad imagined her reasoning that not-Mrs. Bland was connected to the ring and Kamal, while Nomad was event security. She made the decision that Nomad would have made; she went willingly with the woman in red.
Holding Elena’s hand, not-Mrs. Bland leaned in and pointed at his wound. “You’re good, right?”
He felt the rebuke like the sting of a whip’s lash. He felt like an utter cad.
***
The truck driver apologized, corrected the truck on the road, and continued with his night. Nomad drove back to the city where he parked the car a few miles from the gala, found a taxi on the cross street, and gave them an address around the corner from the ball.
Hard to hide where he was heading; he was wearing a penguin suit.
After dabbing his forehead to ensure he hadn’t started bleeding again, Nomad paid the taxi in cash and walked toward the ball. He was surprised that there weren’t police cars everywhere. He had some guesses as to why. The Society had a great deal of pull and would handle things quietly. Their guests should not be upset, and the paparazzi would have no access to pictures or stories.
But they wouldn’t know about the dead bodies yet. This event wasn’t going to go quietly into the night.
It was actually kind of eerie and strange that he could just pull his valet ticket from his pocket and let the same man that he’d shoved on his butt know that he was ready to leave.
Undoubtedly, the man knew who he was. And yet, nothing.
“Little bit creepy,” as his mom liked to say on dark nights in ancient cities.
After showing his ticket at the entrance, Nomad moved through the security steps, then down the grand staircase to the ballroom where Frau Leitner, still asleep, perched like a china doll on the satin couch. He crouched in front of her, capturing her neatly folded hands in his.
When she blinked her eyes open, he smiled at her, “Cinderella, the clock is about to strike midnight. Do you think I should take you home?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Red
As Red drove back into the old part of the city, Elena turned to her, “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to your hotel. I’m sure getting cleaned up and lying down to rest will feel good.”
“Whoareyou?”
Having jumped from the back of the van, Red prioritized getting Elena’s and her phone back. Locking the back door to trap the man with the broken arm, then grabbing up the abandoned tire iron, Red had rounded the van to confront the men who had taken her. The tire iron raised and ready to land, the man, pinned in his seat by his two unconscious teammates, handed over the phones. From there, a flagged car was easily carjacked, and Red was in hot—adrenaline-fueled—pursuit. Of course, too bad Red couldn’t just open the mic and listen to the conversation with the Pied Piper.
Pied Piper could be event security.
Did Red believe that?
She a little bit believed that.
He had the social graces. He had the strength. He had the height, so his supervisor would put him on the floor.
But Elena had decided to come with her.
She trusted her more than the Pied Piper. That might be because Red had gotten Elena’s phone back and handed it to her. Phone’s being a lifeline in most people’s psyches, giving Elena the ability to communicate or call for help should have, and seemed to, establish safety between the two women.
Red would lay money on a bet that Elena had concluded that she was on a security team associated with Kamal and Joel Brighten.
Then he snapped himself back to reality. He didn’t know who this woman was.Elenawas his mission. How could he keep control?
He didn’t grab at Elena or try to stop this. It would have been illegal and also pointless. Men trapped in the traffic jam behind him would climb from their cars and intervene. The best he could do was let Elena go and track her to the next site with the trackers he’d planted.
Nomad pressed his handkerchief to staunch the blood flow before it hit his white shirt. He did have to go back and retrieve Frau Leitner.
Elena was obviously weighing the situation. He had saved her, and the woman in red had fought to save her. In the end, Nomad imagined her reasoning that not-Mrs. Bland was connected to the ring and Kamal, while Nomad was event security. She made the decision that Nomad would have made; she went willingly with the woman in red.
Holding Elena’s hand, not-Mrs. Bland leaned in and pointed at his wound. “You’re good, right?”
He felt the rebuke like the sting of a whip’s lash. He felt like an utter cad.
***
The truck driver apologized, corrected the truck on the road, and continued with his night. Nomad drove back to the city where he parked the car a few miles from the gala, found a taxi on the cross street, and gave them an address around the corner from the ball.
Hard to hide where he was heading; he was wearing a penguin suit.
After dabbing his forehead to ensure he hadn’t started bleeding again, Nomad paid the taxi in cash and walked toward the ball. He was surprised that there weren’t police cars everywhere. He had some guesses as to why. The Society had a great deal of pull and would handle things quietly. Their guests should not be upset, and the paparazzi would have no access to pictures or stories.
But they wouldn’t know about the dead bodies yet. This event wasn’t going to go quietly into the night.
It was actually kind of eerie and strange that he could just pull his valet ticket from his pocket and let the same man that he’d shoved on his butt know that he was ready to leave.
Undoubtedly, the man knew who he was. And yet, nothing.
“Little bit creepy,” as his mom liked to say on dark nights in ancient cities.
After showing his ticket at the entrance, Nomad moved through the security steps, then down the grand staircase to the ballroom where Frau Leitner, still asleep, perched like a china doll on the satin couch. He crouched in front of her, capturing her neatly folded hands in his.
When she blinked her eyes open, he smiled at her, “Cinderella, the clock is about to strike midnight. Do you think I should take you home?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Red
As Red drove back into the old part of the city, Elena turned to her, “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to your hotel. I’m sure getting cleaned up and lying down to rest will feel good.”
“Whoareyou?”
Having jumped from the back of the van, Red prioritized getting Elena’s and her phone back. Locking the back door to trap the man with the broken arm, then grabbing up the abandoned tire iron, Red had rounded the van to confront the men who had taken her. The tire iron raised and ready to land, the man, pinned in his seat by his two unconscious teammates, handed over the phones. From there, a flagged car was easily carjacked, and Red was in hot—adrenaline-fueled—pursuit. Of course, too bad Red couldn’t just open the mic and listen to the conversation with the Pied Piper.
Pied Piper could be event security.
Did Red believe that?
She a little bit believed that.
He had the social graces. He had the strength. He had the height, so his supervisor would put him on the floor.
But Elena had decided to come with her.
She trusted her more than the Pied Piper. That might be because Red had gotten Elena’s phone back and handed it to her. Phone’s being a lifeline in most people’s psyches, giving Elena the ability to communicate or call for help should have, and seemed to, establish safety between the two women.
Red would lay money on a bet that Elena had concluded that she was on a security team associated with Kamal and Joel Brighten.
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