Page 86 of Risky Match
Me: Key aspects clear now. Handoff tomorrow soon after match. Need to meet.
Princes: What is clear?
Me: Too complicated. In person.
Princes: Understood. Meet after your match.
Me: That may be too late. Can we meet earlier?
Princes: Not possible. Meet in tunnel.
Me: Have someone follow Blake after the match. I think he’s being forced to participate. Will there be an escort to take me to the meeting place as usual?
Princes: Will handle Blake. Yes to escort.
Me: Thanks.
I’ve done all I can for tonight. Let’s hope it’s enough. If not, tomorrow could be a disaster.
30
BRIANNA
I’m not sure how to explain our recent tennis success. Perhaps, it’s because there’s no time for nerves with the investigation nearing a turning point. Or it could be that my suddenly supportive partner is raising my level of play.
Whatever the reason, today’s win was a complete surprise. Our match was much tougher than the previous two. We split sets and were behind in the tiebreaker. Somehow, we came back and won. Now, Blake and I are headed to the championship round for mixed doubles.
It still hasn’t sunk in. I should be elated. Instead, I’m disappointed that Blake and I won’t have a chance to celebrate. The mission isn’t over, but it may be in the next few hours. And unless I can prove Blake isn’t a willing participant, he might be arrested along with the other smugglers.
I was worried about how I’d meet with Stephen or Adrian after the match. But the problem solved itself when Noah arranged an unscheduled interview for Blake. Hopefully, our Covert Royals team has someone following Blake in case the handoff takes place before we meet up again.
A staff member escorts me to the meeting I requested with one of the princes. Ironically, we’re headed toward the same areaof the tunnels where Blake and I had our private celebration yesterday.
At first, I was surprised they wanted to meet in the tunnels. But in hindsight, it makes sense. We couldn’t keep using the clubhouse without drawing attention, and there are only so many private spaces at Wimbledon. Repurposing one of the private training rooms is an obvious choice.
As we walk, I organize my thoughts. There’s so much to explain, and we’re running out of time to prevent the handover of the coins. When the princes said we couldn’t meet until after the match, I considered breaking protocol and calling them directly. In the end, I stuck with our plan and followed orders. Hopefully, I won’t regret that decision.
Our escort turns to Erin, who is a few steps behind me. “I understand you will want to check out the meeting room before Her Royal Highness enters,” he says, motioning to the middle door.
Erin nods and steps inside to do a security sweep. I wait with the guide near the room to our right.
Hearing a soft click, I turn my head and see the door opening on my right. Before I can utter a word or scream, the guide and one of the guards push me inside. My hands are yanked behind my back as a dark cloth covers my eyes.
My training kicks in automatically. I assess the situation, look for my captors’ weaknesses, and prepare an escape plan. With a guide and three guards nearby, I need to wait for my opportunity. Fighting my way out at this point won’t work.
Pressure on my shoulders forces me down as a gruff voice barks, “Sit.”
The sound of duct tape being torn off a roll rips through the air. With the proficiency of professionals, they tape my mouth and begin securing me to a chair—binding my wrists and ankles. The room is soundproof. Screaming would be pointless.
The guide asks the gruff guard, “Do you need me to stay and help?”
“No. Go make sure her bodyguard is secured. We can’t have her interfering. When we’re through here, we’re supposed to help with the other player.”
“Okay.”
The door opens and shuts again. That’s one fewer person to fight off.
The sound of another door opening causes me to turn my head toward the far side of the room. Heavy footsteps approach, and a familiar voice says, “I never would have expected a princess to be involved. I guess you can’t trust anyone these days.”
