Page 29 of At Midnight

Park

Flicka von Hannover

The first day at the park.

Flicka sat on a cold park bench, wearing a few layers against the late November chill. Past Lake Geneva and on the horizon, the alpine peaks of Mont Salève, which was actually across the border in France, and Mont Blanc on the French-Italian border jutted into the blue sky.

Snow powdered both, and Flicka wonderedif they might be allowed to ski at some point. Alina was getting close to two years old. She could ski with one of them holding onto a hula hoop. Learning to ski late had always hindered Flicka’s winter sports.

Alina ran right up to a group of little girls and chattered at them.

They stared at her because she had spoken English.

Flicka started to walk over to the group of small children totranslate.

Alina spoke to them in Alemannic German, and most of the kids’ blank stares didn’t change.

One of the little boys said something back, his smile widening.

Flicka reached them and translated Alina’s baby babbles into French baby babbles, and the children agreed on how to play and ran off to a set of steps and ramps to clamber on.

Another mother walked over to Flicka and said in French,“She’s cute, your little one. What does she speak?”

“English and Alemannic. We lived in the States.”

“She’ll pick up French quickly.”

“Oh, yes. They always do.”

In her peripheral vision, three of the Russian guards approached her. More of them ringed the small playground, not succeeding at all in being unobtrusive.

The other parents stared at the burly men standing guard around them. A fewmothers had been walking toward the playground, seen the massive brutes, and changed direction to the soccer field.

One of the bodyguards said to Flicka in Russian-accented French, “Madame, return please.”

The guards didn’t know that she spoke perfectly fluent Russian, and she wasn’t going to tell them just in case they might discuss things in front of her, thinking that she wouldn’t understandthem.

Flicka rolled her eyes and followed them back to the sunny bench where Sophie also sat to watch Alina play.

Sophie asked, “What did you talk about with the woman?”

“That Alina doesn’t speak French,” Flicka said.

“Nothing else?”

“What would I have had time to say?”

“I’m not sure this was a good idea,” Sophie mused. “If Alina needs fresh air, we can build a gym on the east lawn.”

“Sheneeds other kids to play with,” Flicka said. “It’s unnatural to coop her up in a house with only me and you. She’ll turn into an old lady before she’s five.”

Sophie laughed. “Just what are you implying?” But she meant it with good humor.

“I’m saying she needs friends,” Flicka said, frustrated. “She needs to go out and see friends.”

The guards hadn’t given her an inch to escape, damn it. Theywere well-trained.

If they had been Monegasque Secret Service, Flicka would have grabbed Alina, slipped past them, and been halfway to Germany before they’d noticed she was gone.

She watched them the whole time they were at the park, but they didn’t drop their vigilance at all.

Flicka needed to find another way out.