MAËLLE #2
When she answered on the fifth ring, it sounded as though I’d woken her.
“Maman? Were you sleeping?”
“Maelle? No, no. I was only resting.”
It was fourteen hundred in the C?te d’Or, and I’d never known my mother to nap in the afternoon. “Are you unwell?”
“A headache, that is all. It passes. How are you, ma chérie?”
“I’m coming home for the holidays.”
She gasped. “How wonderful. When shall we look forward to seeing you?”
“Soon. Within the next couple of days.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine.” I hated lying to her, but what choice was there? I’m coming home because I believe Papa is somehow involved with a man who almost killed me? “I have news. I’ll tell you all of it when I’m there. I love you, Maman.”
“I love you too, ma chérie.” She was quiet for a moment. “Bring something warm. The house never warms up properly this time of year.”
“I will, Maman. à bient?t.”
After ending the call, I sat on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands. Not only had I lied to my mother in the call, but I was about to spend the next several days doing little else. I told myself it was necessary, but it didn’t make me feel better.
The team briefing was easier than the phone call had been.
We all gathered in the command center. Dagger sat at the table closest to me and loaded one of the Geneva photographs on the screen.
“Last night, after everyone left, I kept working through the DGSE batch,” I began. “As you now know, the man on the left is Géraud.”
Dagger advanced to the next image.
“The man seated across from him is Bertrand Valais—my father,” I said.
No one spoke, so I continued.
“He’s in several of the photographs. The dates show they met in Geneva two or three times a year, for the past nine years. Dagger and I will travel to France to find out what my father’s connection to him is. I’ll be bringing my fiancé home for Christmas.”
Dagger stood.
“Before we leave, someone should stay on the Hellmer charter. Whoever signed it with Vasiliev put up the money, and those records are in a sealed registry in Liechtenstein.”
He looked at Hornet. “Who do you want to bring in on this?”
“Cohen Shepherd will have the most resources in the area.”
I’d previously worked on missions with the man whose code name was Preacher, and Hornet was right to suggest him for the job.
He was formerly with the US Defense Intelligence Agency, specializing in counterproliferation.
He’d worked arms deals from the money end, which meant he’d spent most of that time following payments into private banks, along the Zurich–Zug–Vaduz corridor, where he still had a network of sources.
He also had the capabilities we needed. Preacher could get into records that had never been on a network, including anything sealed.
“Someone should go in with him,” Blackjack suggested.
Delfino raised her head. “Parker Mills, code name Cassidy, is on standby, and she’s here in the States. She can plan ops on the fly.”
“Who can make contact?” I asked.
“We’ll handle both,” said Hornet, motioning between himself and Delfino.
“Great,” I responded. “What’s next?”
“We started the deeper look last night,” Dagger said. “I’ve sent the photographs to my contacts at the CIA and MI6, and asked them for everything they have on Bertrand Valais. Not only this set. All of it.”
“I’ve asked the DGSE for the same,” I said.
“There’s also some work to be done on my cover identity,” said Dagger.
“I can help with that,” Delfino offered. “What needs to be done?”
While the two conferred on his cover, I grabbed my mobile and called Doc to see about arranging transportation.
We left within the hour. Doc arranged a helicopter to take us to Montreal, where we would catch a commercial flight to Paris.
I asked him to book it that way on purpose.
I wanted us to arrive like any other couple coming home to meet the family, not like two operatives walking into an investigation.
I’d also arranged for two other things. First, a rental car. Second, a cottage in Beaune. It was half an hour from the estate and would give us a place to hold briefings with the team when necessary.
Dagger stowed our bags, handed me a headset, and took the seat beside me. From the air, the main camp was a strip of rooftops between the trees and the shoreline. Minutes later, the lake was behind us.
His voice came through the headset. “When does the engagement start?”
“Pardon?”
“Right now, we’re partners on our way to an airport. At some point, we become a couple. I’d like to know when—before I take your hand in a departure lounge and get slapped for it.”
He was right, and it irritated me that I hadn’t raised the question first. “Montreal. From the moment we check in, we are engaged. Airports have cameras, and I would rather we practice on strangers than on my family.”
“Montreal it is.” He settled into his seat. “Anything else I should know before I meet them?”
“A great deal. I’ll tell you on the plane.”
We’d been in the air for an hour when the crew dimmed the lights. The passengers near us slept. Dagger showed no interest in joining them, and neither did I.
“Tell me about home,” he said.
“I’m sure you know most of it from my dossier.”
“That lists facts. I’m meeting your family in a day. I’d rather hear about them from you.”
“Valais has been in my family for centuries. The chateau sits on a hill above the vineyards, and from my bedroom window, I could see the rows all the way to the village.”
“It sounds beautiful.”
“It is. Even in December, when there is nothing green in any direction, it is the most beautiful place I know.”
“And your parents?”
“You will love my mother. Everyone does. She is kind, and she is far funnier than she shows strangers.”
“You said you speak with her. How often?” he asked.
“Not enough. Each time we do, she asks when I will come home, and I—” My voice caught. “Work. There was always work.”
It was the answer I gave everyone, and most days, I believed it.
“And your father?” Dagger continued to press.
“You will find him charming—most people do.”
“I take it that means in a bad way.”
“Oui. The one you will like best is my cousin, Rémy. His father was my father’s younger brother. He died when Rémy was sixteen and I was fourteen. His mother died when he was a child. When his father passed, Rémy came to live with us at Valais.”
“Permanently?”
“Except for university, yes. He studied wine estate management, then he returned to run the commercial side of the domaine. When my father dies, Rémy will control all of it.”
“And the estate itself?”
“It comes to me. As his only child, it comes to me.”
“So you’ll own it, and your cousin will run it.”
“Oui.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not a man.”
“Do you want it?” he asked. “The estate.”
“It’s been decided already.” I lowered my sleep mask. “You should rest. Tomorrow will be long.”
I’d told him more in one flight than I had told anyone in eight years. It should have worried me. Instead, I slept.