Page 42 of French Escapade

“Some security guys that we know and whom we can trust,” Christophe lies for me.

When I told him I’d teamed up with two American servicemen, one of whom was a victim’s brother, he called me insane. Good thing I kept to myself that I’ve known them less than twenty-four hours.

He barely has time to finish his sentence before the car radio comes to life. “Fuck! there’s action on the other side of the building. We need to go!”

I pull my phone out to send a message to my team and notice the last transmissions. A few minutes ago, Ken and Jimmy said they were going to get the girls.

And if they did…

Shit! For all I know,theyare what’s happening on the other side of the building.

While running as fast as I can toward the parking lot, I try to call them. No one answers. I speed up. I remove my shoes and abandon them on the sidewalk.

I rush by a couple. Looks like I scare the hell out of them. I don’t really care what I look like, running like a mad woman in bare feet in my cocktail dress.

When I finally turn the corner, I see police cars parked a few meters from the service entrance, which is all lit up. Someone orders whomever they are facing to drop their weapon and surrender.

I continue to run until I get close enough to identify who is facing the police. It’s Ken and Jimmy, and two women, one of whom could very well be Madison. To my great relief, I see they obey my colleagues’ orders.

I start to catch my breath. It’s not the run that knocked the wind from sails—it’s the idea that there could have been a horrible misunderstanding.

The second Jimmy’s weapon hits the ground, several cops jump on them, and what follows goes so fast that I need a moment to process what’s happening.

One of the two girls screams and dashes back inside the building. The second, the one who had fallen, sits up slowly. She appears confused. She looks at my colleagues, stands, and turns to follow the runaway girl.

“Madison,” Ken screams.

This time, I don’t hesitate. I push one of the police officers out of my way, rush past the men, who are still flat on the floor, and take off after the girls. They’re not very fast, especially the one who has to be Ken’s sister. But just as I’m about to catch up with her, a door opens on my left and a man comes out with a gun pointed at me.

When he identifies me, a smile stretches on his lips. “Hey, didn’t we meet earlier?”

I don’t answer. Arkady continues, “I thought you looked like a nosy person, and my first impressions are rarely wrong.”

I curse myself for not pulling my gun. I didn’t want to scare the women, but I feel as if I’m naked in front of him.

“Let the girls go, Arkady. The place is surrounded by the police.”

I don’t know where the first one has gone, but Madison stopped. She’s out of breath, looking at us with empty eyes. I see some resemblance to Ken. I suppose she’s a very pretty girl when she doesn’t look like she’s spaced out.

Arkady takes a step back, gets close to her, and catches her arm. She lets him. No protest. He smiles at me again and says, “I haven’t played my last card yet, Miss Cossa.”

He grabs Madison, hauls her over his shoulder and runs away. I pull my gun out and run after him.

As I do, one question bounces around in my head: how did he learn my name?

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