Chapter 13
Chapter 13
“ W e are taking ride,” Agron Hoxha’s low, gruff voice whispered in her ear.
Babs wasn’t a field agent, wasn’t even close to one. But she’d been working in espionage long enough to learn a thing or two. First she feigned shock and outrage.
“What? What are you talking about? Who are you?” She tried to shrug away but he had a viselike grip on her upper arm, painfully so, and she didn’t have to fake her wince.
“Is no time for pretend. I am seeing you everywhere, and I want to know why,” he said as he frog marched her out of the shop and in the direction of his car, a van that screamed, “moving crime scene.” More than a few people had been killed and dismembered in that van, Babs knew, pieces of their bodies left in locations all over the state. It was one of those things they knew but couldn’t prove, another way the man had eluded capture.
Darren sat in his car, staring dully into space. Please let him remain oblivious, Babs prayed. But the one time she wanted him to be unaware of what was happening around him was the one time he was keenly tuned in. He stepped out of the car, frowning.
“Babs? Do you know this man?”
Agron’s hand tensed on the gun. She knew exactly what he was capable of, knew how far he was willing to go and how many people he’d already killed. He could dispose of Darren and have his team hide the body so well they’d never find him. Time for another approach.
“He knows,” she said.
Darren blinked at her. “Knows what?”
She blinked at him in return, hard and slow, trying to send messages her lips weren’t able to say. “He knows we’ve been following him and he wants to know why. I say we tell him, right here, right now.”
Darren may not have known exactly what she was talking about, but he was astute enough to realize something about the situation was off. Instead of blurting, “Following him, are you crazy?” he remained silent and intent, letting Babs take the lead. She turned to peer up at Agron.
“We have something to sell,” she said.
He stared down at her, studying her face, searching for the lie. Babs might not be a spy, but she could lie like one. Her face didn’t waiver.
“How do you know I am person to buy?” Agron asked.
She gave him a little smile. “Come now, Mr. Hoxha, let’s not waste time. I know exactly who you are. We have, ah, mutual acquaintances.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“Serge Dominic, for one.” She named a mid-level arms dealer he’d worked with in the past.
“Serge gave you my name?” he asked, dubious.
“Of course not, Serge knows better, I hope. But it’s a small world and your name is fairly well known. I know you’ve been shifting priorities lately, and I don’t care. All I know is you’re now in possession of the kind of money I want.”
“What is the thing you are selling?” he asked.
“Diamonds.”
He snorted his disdain. “I am not a jeweler, miss red coat.” He gave her red coat a hard tug.
“You don’t have to be a jeweler to appreciate diamonds. Unlike money, they’re untraceable. Easy to resell for someone who is looking to avoid detection. And I have an entire tray of the most beautiful little stones you could ever lay eyes on.” She turned to Darren. “Tell him about the diamonds.”
“They’re uncut, easily a carat each, from a fresh mine in South Africa, smuggled by a contact who owed me a favor. But they need unloaded before someone comes looking.”
Babs’s lashes fluttered, impressed.
“I will think about it, make some calls. In the meantime, I think it’s best you come with me.”
“Now wait a minute,” Darren began, but Babs preempted him.
“Fine.” She took Darren’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He was looking at her like he thought she was crazy, which he probably did. What could be going through his mind? That she was willing to say anything to an aggressive stranger?
“I will be taking your phones,” Agron announced, holding his hand out for them. They handed their phones over. Babs knew he would search them, but he’d find nothing suspicious on hers, thanks to Blue who invented software that made their texts disappear ten minutes after they were sent. It was a security feature he’d designed for such an eventuality, in case they were detained by a target. “Now move.” He pressed the gun to Babs’s ribs, giving her a hard shove that made her wince.
Darren stopped short. “Don’t manhandle her.”
Agron wasn’t the sort of man who took kindly to correction. He stepped closer to Darren until they were toe to toe. “Are you going to stop me?”
“Do you need stopped from wounding a woman a hundred pounds lighter and ten inches smaller?” Darren returned.
Agron narrowed his eyes on him. “I do not tolerate your American disrespect. This is your only warning. Next time I will not react so patiently.”
“It’s never disrespect to stand up for a woman who is being mistreated by another man,” Darren said.
Babs winced, certain Agron would hit him or shoot him or something worse. But he didn’t. He took a step back and motioned toward his van. Darren took Babs’s hand and led her there, helping her inside when the door was opened.
What is going on? Darren mouthed.
Later, Babs replied.
They rode in the death van a long time. Eventually they arrived at a nondescript warehouse and were forced inside. This time they were herded to a well-insulated inside room, devoid of anything. Agron closed the door, locking it from the outside. Darren and Babs sat on the concrete floor and leaned against the floor.
“What is going on?” Darren whispered. “Is this some kind of prank? Like we have to pay a fee to charity to get out?”
She shook her head and eased closer, pressing her lips close to his ear. She raised her hand and began snapping. From previous intel, she knew the organization favored Russian listening devices. They were highly sensitive, almost too much. They gravitated toward the loudest sound in the room. They would zero in on her snap, allowing her whisper to remain undetected.
“They’re listening to us,” she explained when he stared at her snapping fingers as if it were a tangible symbol of her snapped mind.
“Who?” he whispered.
“An Albanian gang.”
“How do you know Albanian gang members?” he was still wearing the half smile, as if at any moment he expected her to say, “Just kidding! Wasn’t this a fun Christmas surprise?”
“Long story. All you need to know right now is that this is real. There are men in this building with real guns who will really kill us if we don’t play along.”
“I’m very confused right now,” he said.
“I know,” she said and then because she couldn’t resist, she kissed him. He kissed her back and then pulled away, backing against the wall as he stared down at her.
“Is this some sort of elaborate seduction thing? Are you one of those women who needs an adrenaline rush?”
She thought of all the men she’d dated—the spies, the police officers, the soldiers. “Maybe, but that’s not what this is about. It has to do with my job.”
“Are you this guy’s accountant?”
She wasn’t at liberty to reveal classified information, not even to him, not even in this situation. “Something like that. Sometimes our work crosses paths with unsavory characters. Right now we’re in the midst of a mixup. He thought I was following him, even though I wasn’t. I had to come up with something to buy us some time.”
“Time for what?” He reached out and pulled her into his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder. His arms were long and cinched comfortingly all the way around her. They were a perfect fit, in her opinion.
“A rescue.”
“How can we be rescued if no one knows we’re here? Did you secretly call the police before you handed him your phone?” he asked.
“Something like that,” she said. After Maggie was taken by a terror cell a couple of years before, Ridge gave them each a watch with an elaborate tracking device. She hadn’t had time to call or text on her phone, but she had hit the panic button on her watch. The watch could be tracked even in a sealed room, which this wasn’t. Blue would already have their location. All they had to do now was wait for Ridge and Ethan to put on their gear and show up.
“I feel like I’m missing a lot of information and you’re strangely calm. Nothing makes sense at this moment.”
“I know, but you did say you wanted a distraction,” she reminded him. “What do you want for Christmas?”
“To find an apartment in the next few days so I’ll have a place to live when I start my job.”
“I don’t know how Santa’s going to fit that on his sleigh,” she said.
She felt him smile against the top of her head. His hand was rubbing a soothing little path on her back. If not for the threat of impending death at the hands of an Eastern European gangster, it would be a pleasant date. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked.
“None of the things I want have anything to do with me.”
“World peace?” he guessed.
“I know too much about what goes on in the world to ever wish for that,” she said.
“Cryptic,” he replied.
“It’s the DC way. Soon you’ll share our cynicism.”
“Never. I’m a sparkling ray of sunshine, ask my sisters. What’s your family situation like?”
“I have a dad and an older sister who still live in my small town in Indiana. We’re moderately close, but you know how it is when you live far away. My mom died a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It was…rough. I had a bit of a downward spiral for a bit.”
“It’s hard to lose your mom at any age, but in your twenties, I can’t imagine,” he said.
They were quiet a few beats, enjoying the oddly peaceful silence. “I feel like I should be more stressed, but it’s as if meeting you has upended everything and turned all my normal reactions upside down,” he said.
“Ditto,” she said. If not for what was about to happen, she could probably fall asleep.
The lights went out. His hand tensed on her back. “What do you suppose is happening?”
“The rescue I mentioned? This is probably it.” Cutting the power was a signature move. Babs wondered if Blue did it remotely by hacking the power company or Ethan did it by snipping some wires. Either way, it was time; things were about to heat up. She sat up and clutched Darren’s lapels.
“What you’re about to see will probably shock you. Try to stay calm. Do whatever you’re told, even if I tell you to do something that makes no sense.”
“Okay,” he said, again half amused, half disbelieving.
“Also, there’s something I need to tell you, something I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to tell you the past couple of days.”
“What?” he asked, fully alert and tense now.
“I’m sort of a package deal. I have a kid, a little girl.”
She heard him take in a breath, whether in shock or because he was about to speak, she had no idea. And she never got to hear because at that moment the shooting began.