Page 80 of Secrets Beneath the Waves (Beach Read Thrillers #2)
CHAPTER
TEN
“What happened?” I ask Hawke, shifting gears mentally as I put my phone on speaker.
“I don’t know much,” he says. “Lizzie found the guards unresponsive when she arrived at the apartment, then apparently someone ambushed and drugged her. They were all taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital about thirty minutes ago.”
“And Mariam?” I ask.
He pauses then says, “Mariam’s gone.”
“Do we have video footage of the attacks?” Graham asks.
“Camera feeds were down.”
“Convenient,” I say.
Too convenient.
My grip tightens on the phone as my mind spins to come up with an explanation. From the limited facts I’ve just been given, it definitely feels planned. And if Mariam wasn’t taken but walked out on her own, that proves my suspicions that she isn’t who she claims to be.
“What about the local authorities?” I ask.
“I’m heading there now to secure the site and convince them it was a random break-in,” Hawke says.
“And if they still push?” I ask.
“I’ll make sure French intelligence keeps them out of it.”
I let out a sharp huff of air. On top of losing Mariam, the breach of a safe house complicates an already volatile situation. It will need to be quickly shut down and scrubbed, and another safe house must be made ready.
“What do you need us to do?” I ask.
“Go to the ER to debrief Lizzie and get us some answers. I’ll be there as soon as I clean this mess up on my end.”
I end the call, then press my hands against my thighs, not wanting Graham to notice that they’re still shaking.
“Now I’m the one feeling guilty,” Graham says. “You said Mariam isn’t who she said she is. I should have listened. Taken additional security measures.”
I shrug. “There was no way to know. And the truth is, we still don’t.”
Fifteen minutes later, Graham pulls into the parking lot of the emergency room. We head immediately inside the crowded lobby that smells like antiseptic and hurry to find someone in charge.
A matronly looking woman sits behind a large desk.
“I am looking for an American,” I say in French to the woman. “Lizzie Staten. She was brought in by ambulance.”
The woman hesitates, then checks her clipboard. “Box six. But only one of you can see her.”
“You go,” Graham says. “I’ll see if I can get updates on the guards.”
I nod, already moving.
The treatment bays are curtained-off sections that line the pale green walls.
The florescent light is too bright and the surroundings too loud, but I quickly find Lizzie.
She’s lying on her side with an IV taped to her hand, covered with a thin blanket and hooked up to a monitor. Thankfully, she’s awake. And alive.
She turns her head slowly as I approach. “If you’re here to tell me this wasn’t my fault, don’t.”
“No one is thinking about whose fault this was right now,” I say, pulling the curtain shut behind me. “I’m here to find out what happened and figure out what we need to do next.”
“But it’s my job. Cameras don’t just go down like that, and now Mariam is gone.”
“Lizzie, listen to me. I don’t need you spiraling over what’s already happened. I need you sharp for what’s about to come next. So right now your job is to get better. My job is to find Mariam.”
Lizzie nods, but I can tell she’s still not convinced.
“What are the doctors saying?” I ask.
She scoots up on the bed so she’s sitting against the pillow. “I was injected with some kind of sedative. They told me it should flush out of my body over the next couple hours with no aftereffects, but both of the guards were stabbed. One of them went straight into surgery.”
“Start at the beginning and tell me what happened,” I say.
“I went to my apartment to get a couple hours of sleep, but instead I ended up working. At one point, I decided to check the camera feeds, and discovered they were offline.” Lizzie wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then looks away.
“I know I should have called for backup, but honestly, I thought it was just a glitch.”
Lizzie lets out a sharp breath. I look up at the monitor next to her. Her heart rate is over a hundred beats a minute, though her blood pressure looks normal.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Take your time.”
“When I got to the safe house, the door was open. I found the guards in the living room. One was unconscious, and the other one was bleeding heavily. Thankfully, both were alive.”
“And Mariam?” I ask.
“I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know if she escaped, or if someone helped her escape, or if she was taken.
” Her hand goes to the back of her neck.
“I didn’t hear anything. I remember seeing flashes of movement, felt something sharp, and then everything went black. That’s the last thing I remember.”
“Do they know what you were injected with?”
Lizzie shakes her head. “Just that whatever it was—they’re still testing my blood—worked fast.”
Nothing makes sense. No classified files were left at the safe house.
No servers. Nothing that could be copied or transmitted.
On paper, the safe house was clean. Which means there are only two explanations for the incident.
Either Mariam took out Lizzie and the guards in order to escape, or someone knew who we were holding inside and took her.
I replay the security protocols in my head, checking for cracks, because this kind of access doesn’t happen without inside help.
“There’s something else,” Lizzie says, interrupting my thoughts. “Before I returned to the safe house this morning, I was able to ID the man who put a tracker on Graham at the church.”
“That’s great,” I say. “Who is he?”
“Ibrahim Diallo. He forty-two years old, and has dual citizenship with both Mali and Algeria. I’ll make sure the information is sent to you.”
“Okay,” I say. “What else?”
“From the Intel that we have, he has ties to a number of rogue groups. The latest information has him working for the Koumana Syndicate as a logistics coordinator, but basically he’s an enforcer. The muscle that gets things done.”
I shiver, pulled back for a moment to his knife pressed against my throat. His hot breath on my face.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s nothing.”
“He’s been under the radar for several years, “ she continues, “but has suspected involvement in the 2018 Timbuktu warehouse bombing. He’s also been under investigation by Interpol for smuggling small arms and munitions across borders into Libya. Chatter has it that he’s been authorized to ‘clean house.’”
My phone beeps, and I glance at it. “Hawke is here and wants an update. I’ll go talk to him, but I’ll be back to check on you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
I head through the waiting room then outside to a gush of cold wind.
Hawke and Graham have found a semi-private place to talk away from the sliding glass doors of the ER and the constant stream of people and hospital personnel.
A paramedic smokes on the other side of the entrance, his back to us.
A police car idles nearby. Nobody’s looking at me—but I can’t help but feel as if I’m being watched.
Hawke’s wearing his typical suit, but without a tie, and looks anything but happy. “Were you able to pull out any more details from Lizzie?” he asks me.
“Just that she went to the safe house after losing the camera feeds and found both of the guards down. Before she could make any calls, she was ambushed as well.”
“And Mariam?” Hawke presses. “Does Lizzie know what happened to her?”
“She didn’t see anything, so at this point, there’s no way to know if she left on her own or if someone took her.”
Hawke’s frown deepens. “Do you still believe she’s an imposter?”
I nod. “I do. Even more so now.”
“I’ve made sure we have eyes on the usual exit points—airports, rail, borders,” Hawke says, “ but I’ve got a feeling she knows how to avoid detection.”
“Lizzie did manage to ID the man at the church who put a tracker on him,” I say.
“Good. I was just briefed about your encounter with him. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I glance at Graham as a siren wails nearby. “And we might have one more possible lead.”
“I’m listening.”
“When we were at Oumar’s apartment, we found tickets to an exclusive gala tonight at the Louvre with the name of a contact on the back. I’m pretty sure Oumar wanted me to find them.”
Hawke pulls his car keys out of his pocket. “We have a lot to do between now and then, but it looks like you and Graham are going to that gala tonight.”