21. High-speed Stakes
CHAPTER 21
HIGH-SPEED STAKES
ZOE
T urkey knows how to make trains. In this car, one side of the aisle has two seats side by side, but on our side, there is only one. Half of the car is facing the front of the train and the other half is facing the back of the train. Most seats have a pull-down tray table, but Ledger and I have seats in the center of the car, facing each other, so there is a small table between us.
Our mics are off but our earpieces are in, and not long into our trip, Packston’s voice comes on in our comms. “ We split up the task of combing through all the footage at the locations that have had Trust pieces stolen— both official security feeds and unofficial ones, where available— between a team here at the CIA and a team at the CSA . And we’ve found them!”
I’ve used some impressive pieces of technology as an operative. Still , though, I’m amazed that while traveling 160 miles per hour, a tiny object that can slide in my ear and be nearly imperceptible can allow me to hear our handlers’ voices loud and clear.
I tap my mic, which is in my earring, to turn it on and say, “ The thieves?” I’m saying it to Packston , but I act like I’m just continuing the conversation I’ve been having on and off with Ledger all along. But I do try to not use too many words when talking about mission things.
“ Yep ! It’s the Barno Brothers . Do you know of them?”
“ A little,” Ledger says. “ Aren’t they relatively small-time?”
“ Not anymore,” Packston says. “ Apparently they’ve managed to stay concealed while growing their own little terrorist empire.”
“ And ,” Kella says, “ Director Lancaster has been working with both the Turkish government and the Serbian government to use our facial recognition software on the footage they have from their surveillance systems at airports and train and bus stations. If they land at either, we’ll know and keep you updated.”
“ We’re going to get these guys,” Packston says.
I grin at Ledger . We are. I’m already imagining the look that’s going to be on Sully’s face when we get back and he tells me how proud of me he is.
We know from the mission briefing that the charcoal drawing that’s part of the Trust collection is on display at the Ankara Citadel . Between travel— via airplane, taxi, and high-speed train— and the hour we lost to the time zone change, we won’t arrive in Ankara until after ten p.m. The Citadel and its surrounding shops will be long since closed, so Packston and Kella worked it out with the management of the castle to meet us at 8 a.m. to place the tracker— well before they open at ten.
Ledger and I can’t talk about the mission much here because there are too many people who could overhear. Most people on this train likely speak Turkish , but Kella helpfully let us know that in the touristy parts of Turkey , about seventeen percent of the population also speak English , so we can’t just trust that we won’t be understood. But less than two percent speak Arabic , and even fewer speak Farsi . Both are languages that Ledger and I speak, so if we have to say anything, Farsi is our secret code.
But mostly, we keep the mission talk to a minimum and play games with the deck of cards that Ledger pulled out of his bag. I’m not sure why he thought that a deck of cards was mission-critical gear, but I’m glad for it. Because without it, the only thing I would have to occupy me is studying Ledger’s body language, and I’ve been doing more than enough of that, even with the cards.
I can’t see his feet or legs because of the table, which is too bad, since they are the most honest parts of the body. But I’ve seen them enough to know that his feet often point toward me. Every once in a while, he’ll stretch his legs out, slightly into the aisle, and I can see that they are crossed at the ankle. It’s a sign that he’s comfortable here with me. But more telling, the toes of his feet keep bouncing up, which tells me that he’s also happy.
He’s facing me directly, not turning his torso at all. His arms aren’t blocking his torso at all, even when holding his cards. He’s staying open to me. And when he smiles, it’s the kind of smile that moves his whole face— lifts his cheeks, causes the skin at the sides of his eyes to lift. And man, that smile is great. Its appearance makes my smile appear, too.
What gets me the most, though, is his body language whenever I’m talking. It can be about the most random thing, but his eyes will be on me, and often, his head tilts to the side. Tilting your head to the side feels very unnatural if you don’t genuinely like the other person. His interest and admiration seem completely genuine.
All signs point to one fact: he likes me. Maybe even loves me.
If I had seen all of Ledger’s body language that has been related directly to me— including all the ones leading up to this train ride— and they were aimed at someone else, I’d believe the authenticity, no question. But they’re aimed at me . I don’t even know what to do with this knowledge.
I’m realizing that he had so much of this same body language back in Moldova . I’d noticed it then, but I had taken it to mean that he was trying to manipulate me so that he could distract me long enough to complete the mission on his own.
But he told me that he wouldn’t have taken the win on that mission, and I believe him. Would he have let me take the win if I hadn’t taken it for myself? Would he have had us share the accolades? I might not ever know.
And suddenly, I’m wondering… if he wasn’t lying about how he wouldn’t have taken the win, was he also not lying about his feelings for me back then?
No . It’s not possible. We’d barely known each other. If he had known me better, he would’ve known that we’d never work out, so it couldn’t be that. He was just extremely skilled at making his body language show what he wanted it to show.
But what could be his motivation for making me believe that he’s falling for me now? It’s not so he can take the win. If we don’t “win” together, it’ll cause friction between our agencies. And both of us are much too competitive to risk earning the disapproval of our directors.
Maybe I should just question him about it. Interrogating a trained operative isn’t easy, but I just happen to be pretty good at interrogating people. I could get him to tell me what his angle is, and then tell him to stop it.
Because every time he looks at me like he’s looking at me now, my stomach flutters and I start thinking of all the ways it would be nice to date Ledger . To be special to him. When his hand brushes against mine as we both reach for a card, causing tingles to shoot all the way up my arm, I imagine him reaching out to hold my hand. When his eyes crinkle as he laughs softly, I imagine us curled up on a couch somewhere, sharing a private joke. When he leans in close, I want to feel his warm breath against my ear.
And I’ve had plenty of experience wanting something I can’t have— enough to have learned that not only does it not get me any closer to getting it, but it hurts. And not in an I stubbed my toe kind of way. In an I tore my ACL kind of way. The kind of hurt that is long-lasting.
Since we are facing each other, it means I’ ve got three-and-a-half hours of Ledger bombarding me with body language that he might not even be aware that he’s giving off. Body language that’s projecting all kinds of emotions that I don’t know how to deal with.
Even when we play the most competitive game of Gin Rummy that I’ve ever played, smack-talking the whole time and not holding back on being competitive, his body language still shows positive thoughts toward me. Even when I win. When he wins, his arms raise. In the middle of a round, his arms are often on the table. Never restricted, never down by his side. He’s leaning toward me, too, instead of resting his back against his chair. I realize I’m doing the same thing.
To give myself a break, I turn to look out the window at the scenery. I try to focus on the lush and scenic green landscapes lit by the setting sun, the beautiful blue waters with occasional glimpses of shipyards, and the storm clouds that are gathering, making the sunset the most vibrant oranges, reds, and blues and in the most dramatic shapes. The small amount of rain that is falling on the streets warmed by the summer sun in the distance seems to steam up almost instantly.
But as impressive as the scene is, my attention keeps getting pulled back to the man across the table from me and all the confusion swirling around my head and heart.
Eventually , we reach the Ankara train station in an all-out downpour. We are almost to the front of the line to get our rental car when Kella’s voice sounds through in our comms, her breathing heavy as if she was just running. “ We caught them on airport security footage. ”
Ledger taps his mic on and asks, “ In Belgrade ?”
“ No ,” Kella says. “ In Ankara . They aren’t going in the order we thought they would at all.”
Ledger and I look at each other, eyes wide.
“ The information is delayed, of course, because we can’t search the footage until after it’s taken.”
“ How long ago did they leave the airport?” I ask. I don’t know what languages Kella speaks, but it feels like a safe enough question to ask in English . I pull the hooded jacket from my bag and put it on, tuck my necklace into my shirt, and zip it up. Ledger does the same with his jacket.
“ Five minutes ago. We are currently searching street cams for them.”
“ We’re going to have to place the tracker tonight,” Ledger says.
I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly panicked about this mission. I never panic about missions. I blame it on Ledger . Because now I care about him so much more, and I really don’t want anything to happen to him. I also really care about this mission. And I really want to show our directors that the two of us can be successful on a joint mission.
“ We have to win this mission, Ledger .”
His eyes are on the person standing at the rental counter ahead of us. “ I know.”
“ No matter what,” I stress. And then in Farsi , I add, “ We can’t let Aragundi pass on his empire to a new generation to wreak havoc all over the world.”
“ We’ll get them,” he says with enough conviction that it actually manages to calm my nerves. We will get them.
I’ve had some long days in the field. Literal long days where I was awake for all twenty-four hours of it. But even considering that, it’s strange to think that today is still today. This morning, we placed a tracking device on a very valuable ceramic sculpture in Serbia . By lunch, we were sitting on an airplane. By late afternoon, we’d boarded a train in Istanbul . And now, we are about to traipse our way to an ancient castle in Ankara that was built in the seventh century.
“ Sonraki !” the attendant calls out, and we move up to the counter.
We are trying to quickly sign the documents to rent the car, but the language barrier is slowing things down. The pre-mission adrenaline is kicking in, and I need to move. We finally get the keys and are racing out to the car when Packston’s voice sounds in our ears.
“ Found them! I hoped they’d go to their hotel first, but nope— it looks like they are headed straight for the Citadel . You need to get there quickly.”
That adrenaline is kicking into high gear.
“ The good news is,” Kella says, “the airport is further away from the Citadel than the train station is, so they’ve got a longer drive than you. A nineteen-minute longer drive, specifically. But they have a ten-minute head start on you. We are trying to contact the curator at the Citadel , the manager, or anyone who can meet you there and open the castle for you.”
“ You can’t let the Barno Brothers see you, though,” Packston adds. “ If they find out that you are trying to get the same thing they are, they’ll suspect sabotage and will for sure search all the pieces for a tracker. Then all this will be for naught.”
“ Which means we can’t call in the cavalry,” Kella says. “ Or the local police.”
“ Got it,” I say. I was quicker at grabbing the keys from the counter than Ledger was, so I slide into the driver’s seat, start the car, and take off as Ledger is closing his door.
Ledger immediately brings up navigation and directs me along the tree-lined freeway, through narrow roads with too many cars parked on the sides, and then onto hilly and winding cobblestone streets lined with flower pots. The vendor shops all along the street are closed up, their goods taken inside, and no one is out walking, which is good, because the rain is coming down so hard that it’s making it difficult to see. It’s running down the streets, too, and a couple of times, our car loses traction.
“ They are driving way too fast for the conditions,” Kella says in our ears. “ I hope they bought the extra insurance on their rental car. If they keep going at their same pace and don’t wreck, they’ll arrive six minutes or so after you.”
“ The charcoal drawing is in the private museum just southwest of the Ottoman building,” Packston adds. “ We finally got hold of someone at the museum, but they are twenty minutes away. If you can’t place the tracker on it in time, you’ll have to remove the Trust piece from the collection before the Barno Brothers arrive. Procuring this piece will get them too close, and we can’t risk them choosing not to steal the two pieces you already placed trackers on.”
“ We’ll get it,” Ledger says, looking down at the navigation on his phone. “ We can’t pull right up to the building, or they’ll see us go inside. Turn onto this next street. There will only be one row of buildings between us and the museum. ”
I make the turn. These buildings look residential— this street is not one that tourists travel on, and its width shows it. It’s barely wide enough for our car, and there is nowhere to park. I stop right in the street since that’s the only place to go and pull my hood over my head, cinching it tight.
“ Ack !” Kella says. They are pulling onto the street you just turned off! Don’t head out that way or they’ll see you in about ninety seconds.”
We get out of the car and both scan the area. The houses here— white, with terra cotta roofs and trim to match, with rivulets of water pouring off them and onto the streets— are mostly connected, even though everything is in layers of differing heights. The road we turned on winds in the opposite direction we are headed.
Ledger nods at a ridge on one house about four feet off the ground. “ How do you feel about scaling some walls and taking to the roofs?”
I grin at him. “ Let the adventure begin.”
Ledger locks his fingers together and holds his hands down low. I step onto his hands, and he gives me a boost. I grab hold of the roof and pull myself up, then lay flat on it to give Ledger a hand. Once he’s up, we take off across the roofs. For as much as the roofs all have the same look, they are at vastly different heights. If it wasn’t raining, I would be racing across these rooftops as quickly as running on the road. I’d be having more fun up here, of course .
But the curved roof tiles aren’t the easiest to get traction on with this much rain pouring down, and it is slowing our progress a bit. Every once in a while, we come across one that doesn’t quite connect to the others and have to jump across the small space.
From up here, we can see the Barno Brothers car pass by. We can also see the building containing the charcoal drawing, but they don’t stop in front of it. Maybe they are looking for a place to park that won’t block the narrow road and possibly get unwanted attention on them. Whatever their reason, I’m grateful for the extra few moments it gives us to reach the building and get out of sight. Maybe even make a plan of how to break in before they reach it.
There’s a gap of a couple of feet between this building and the next, and then we can climb down from this house, scale the stone wall, cross the narrow street, and then jump the wrought iron fence that leads to the back of the museum.
We’re going to get there. We’re going to find a way inside that building and either place the tracker or stop the Barno Brothers from entering and taking the piece. As I do for motivation with every mission, I picture Sully’s proud expression when I walk back into the CIA .
Ledger jumps across the gap, then his eyes flit to the museum, too, probably imagining how we are going to get inside. He turns back to me, sets his feet, and holds out a hand. I am moving as quickly as I can across the roof, set my foot, and leap toward Ledger .
Except instead of my foot staying set in place, it slips on the rain pouring across the surface of the tiles, taking my leg out from under me just as my body’s trajectory propels me toward Ledger .
The second my foot leaves the roof, I know things are bad. Very , very bad. I know it even before I see the look of horror on Ledger’s face as he reaches for me, and I fall between the two buildings.