Page 112 of Secrets Beneath the Waves
Paul clenched his fists under the table. He stood abruptly, buttoning his jacket. “Thank you for your time.”
He turned and abruptly walked out of the bank, his breath tight in his chest. He needed to get to his car. Now. Out of Cayman as soon as possible.
He scanned the street for any sign of a threat while his mind calculated the fastest way to the airport. His driver waited at the curb. Relief flickered through him. He quickened his pace, reaching out for the door handle, his lifeline to safety.
Then he felt it.
A sharp, unyielding pressure against his spine.
His body locked up. The street noise, the distant hum of engines, and the chatter of tourists blurred into nothing.
A voice, quiet but firm, cut through the noise on the street.
“Don’t move.”
It was a woman. Young. Steady.
Ellie Austen.
His mind scrambled for an explanation, but there wasn’t a reason to speculate. She shouldn’t have been there, but she was. She shouldn’t have even known about this, but she did.
Here she was, his worst nightmare. Her breath calm, her grip sure. His future flashed before his eyes and disintegrated along with any hope he had of getting out of there and going to Russia.
She nudged him forward. “Get in the car.”
The door swung open, and Paul barely had time to slide in before she followed, shutting it behind her.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at her for the first time. A gun was secure in her hand, aimed in his direction.
“To the marina,” Ellie said to the driver.
“She’s got a gun!” Paul yelped. “I’m being kidnapped! Do something!”
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror, completely unfazed.
“Oh, right!” Ellie’s tone was almost cheerful. “Introductions! Paul, meet Matthew. Matthew, meet Paul, the mole, the traitor, and the soon-to-be very sorry man.”
Matthew gave Paul a friendly nod. “Pleasure to meet you. Are you comfortable back there? Can I get you something to drink?”
He winked at Ellie.
“This is insane. You don’t want to do this.”
Ellie tilted her head, considering. Then she grinned. “No, see, that’s where you’re wrong. Ireallydo.”
“You can’t kill me. I’m an American citizen.”
“I can and I will.”
Denying that she could was a waste of breath.
“How did you find me?” Paul asked, his voice raw and cracking. He could use a beverage but wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of asking for one.
“You made one too many mistakes.”
“What mistake?”
Ellie leaned back, tapping her finger lightly against her thigh. “Snorkeling. Bioluminescent Bay. Saturday night.”
