Page 44 of A Touch of Treachery (Section 47 #3)
CHARLOTTE
A fter my meeting with Henrika, I returned to the honeymoon suite.
The first thing I did was kick off my stilettoes, fish my laptop out of my suitcase, and check the flash drive.
Henrika had kept her word, and the drive contained the list of undercover Section agents.
Even better, the files were still encrypted and hadn’t been copied, as far as I could tell.
I sighed with relief and sagged back against the couch cushions.
At least something had gone right tonight.
I basked in my relief for a few seconds, then prowled around the suite, opening one cabinet after another, until I discovered a printer tucked away in a credenza.
I flipped it on and printed out several documents related to the Mexico mission, along with dozens of maps and satellite images of the Glittertop Resort.
Even though I’d reviewed the information at Section headquarters, I wanted to look at everything again.
Now that I’d seen the resort grounds in person, maybe I would have a better idea of where Henrika might be hiding her lab.
Plus, I could always absorb, understand, analyze, and retain information much better if I looked at paper printouts rather than surfing through electronic documents.
I’d been looking through the files, maps, and photos for about ten minutes when an electronic beep sounded, and the door opened. I scrambled to my feet and whirled around, and Desmond stepped into the living room.
I hurried around the end of the couch, went over to him, and hugged him. Desmond wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck, his stubble tickling my skin. We held on to each other for the better part of a minute, just soaking up the comfort of each other’s presence.
I shuddered out a breath, then drew back and pushed a rumpled lock of dark blond hair back over his forehead. “What did you find in the woods?”
“Nothing,” Desmond muttered. “No buildings, no structures, not even the smallest hint about where Henrika’s lab might be located. Please tell me you had better luck with the UC list.”
I gestured over at my laptop on the low table in front of the couch. “Henrika honored our bet and gave me the list. She said she hadn’t even opened the files or tried to make any copies.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I do. According to my synesthesia, she wasn’t lying or parsing her words.”
Desmond frowned. “Why would Henrika just hand over the list? Especially when she went to so much trouble to hire Bryce to steal it in the first place?”
The same questions had been rattling around my mind ever since I’d left Henrika’s penthouse, and I kept coming back to the same alarming answers. “I think she just used the UC list as bait. To get us to show up in person at the resort.”
His frown deepened. “Why would she do that? Henrika knows how much you despise her. Me too.”
“I haven’t figured out her motives yet, but Henrika doled out a few more clues.”
I told Desmond everything Henrika had said in her library, including her business arrangement and personal relationship with Feliciano Salvador.
“That’s how she knows so much about the Mexico mission,” I said. “She was there , on-site, when it all went down.”
Desmond crossed his arms over his chest, his right index finger tapping on his left elbow. “Maybe that’s why the General wants her dead. Maybe Henrika knows something about the Mexico mission that would reflect badly on Section, on him.”
“The General doesn’t strike me as someone who cares about a little spy scandal. Besides, everyone at Section 47 knows the Mexico mission was a disaster. The General survived the initial fallout back then, so why would he suddenly be worried about it fifteen years later?”
Desmond shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
I gestured over at the papers I’d printed out. “I’ve been going back through all the files related to the Mexico mission. We know that Henrika has sold weapons to General Percy and Section 47 over the years.”
That’s what Henrika had claimed when Desmond and I confronted her at the Halstead Hotel a few months ago, and I had no reason to doubt her.
Section 47 might ostensibly be the good guys, but the higher-ups did some pretty dark things from time to time, like buy weapons from criminals and use them to eliminate even more dangerous criminals.
“Sounds like there’s a but coming,” Desmond said.
I sighed. “But according to all my research, Henrika and General Percy have never crossed paths. So why his sudden interest in neutralizing her?”
Relief flickered across Desmond’s face, although his index finger started tapping against his elbow again.
“Maybe this mission is a preemptive strike. Maybe my father has finally realized how dangerous Henrika truly is and wants to take her out before she creates any more biomagical weapons. Something even worse than Redburn.”
“Or maybe the General wants the Redburn formula for himself and doesn’t want Henrika alive to make it for someone else,” I countered.
Desmond shrugged a second time, once again neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Then he sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, as if trying to slough off all the mysterious motives and unanswered questions.
“Well, whatever my father is up to, I’m just glad he is finally considering Henrika a serious threat.
I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. ”
“I’ll be there soon. I want to look through a few more files first.”
Desmond nodded, gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and stepped into the bedroom. A few seconds later, the steady hiss of water sounded.
I looked back out over the sea of papers, maps, and photos scattered across the table.
Desmond knew exactly what kind of man the General was, but Percy was still his father, and he didn’t want to think the General was guilty of being involved with Henrika.
I didn’t want Percy to be involved with Henrika either, for Desmond’s sake, but I had my doubts.
General Jethro Percy was up to something, Henrika too, and I had a funny feeling that Desmond’s and my survival depended on figuring out the answers.
A n hour later, I had reviewed dozens of documents and had nothing to show for it but a raging migraine. Disgusted, I followed Desmond’s lead, took a hot shower, and crawled into bed next to him.
Desmond slept soundly for a change, free from his usual nightmares about the Blacksea mission, and I was the one who tossed and turned. I finally drifted off a few hours before dawn, but my dreams were filled with disjointed images of everything that had happened over the past few days.
Bryce Finkley lobbing a smoke grenade at me after he’d stolen the UC list. General Percy examining me like a bug under a microscope during the Vault mission debriefing.
Steig, Niles, and Oriana clearly calculating how they could kill Desmond and me and each other and seize the Redburn formula.
The Grunglass Necklace glittering on the green felt of the poker table.
Henrika staring at the photo of her cousin Meg, genuine anguish creasing her face . . .
I woke with a start, the image of Henrika’s and Meg’s smiling faces still filling my mind. Desmond murmured something and snuggled closer, throwing his arm across my chest as though he was protecting me, even in his sleep.
I started to get up, but then I thought better of it, and I lay there, warm, safe, and secure in Desmond’s embrace, until my phone alarm went off.
Desmond grumbled, me too, but we both got up.
We checked in with Gia, Joan, and Diego, along with Gabriel, but everything had been quiet overnight, and no one had any new information.
Desmond also texted back and forth with his father.
He didn’t tell me what Percy said, but I imagined the General was giving him the same orders as before: kill Henrika and get the Redburn formula.
I donned a fuzzy pale blue sweater, thick black pants, and a pair of black boots with explosive-filled pom-poms dangling off the sides.
I also put on a matching blue jacket and slid a pair of gloves into my pocket, along with a winter hat, both featuring the explosive pom-poms. I didn’t know where Henrika would show us the formula, but I wanted to be prepared and warm in case the demonstration was outside.
I hesitated, then fastened the Grunglass Necklace around my throat. I didn’t dare leave the necklace in the suite for fear that Henrika would send someone to steal it. I fished a thick blue wool scarf out of my suitcase and wrapped it around my throat to hide the glittering jewels.
Desmond dressed in a black sweater, cargo pants, and boots, although his were pom-pom-free. He strapped a knife to his left forearm and tucked his silver watch into a pocket on the front of his jacket. We both slid guns into our jacket pockets.
“You ready for this?” Desmond asked.
“Not really. Are you?”
“No, but going into the unknown is a spy’s job.” He grinned. “I kind of love not knowing what’s going to happen next.”
The excitement in his voice teased a laugh out of me. “Well, that makes one of us, because I hate the unknown.”
“Don’t think of it as the unknown. Think of it as another chance to get answers.”
I grinned back at him. “I’ll try my best. Even if answers have been in short supply lately.”
His grin faded away. Mine too, and a tense, uneasy silence dropped over us.
Desmond smoothed a lock of my hair back over my shoulder. “No matter what happens, I’m glad you’re my partner, Numbers.”
I tugged his zipper a little higher up on his jacket. “Right back at you, Dundee.”
We stared at each other a heartbeat longer. Then I threaded my arm through Desmond’s, and we left the honeymoon suite, got into the elevator, and went down to the ground floor.