Page 130 of Dating Goals
I cross my arms. “Here is fine.”
Showalter sighs. “The woman you knew as Elodie? She’s gone. And so is the one hundred four million from the poker game.”
The world tilts slightly. “What do you mean, gone?”
“We mean,” Wilde says, “she never deposited the money into the FIS accounts. She transferred it elsewhere and disappeared.”
“She’s gone,” Bruderlin interjects. “Vanished.”
“But she’s FIS,” I protest. “She works for you!”
The three agents exchange loaded glances.
“She doesn’t work for us,” Bruderlin says slowly. “We believed she was FIS, but…”
“She played us all,” Showalter interrupts.
Wilde steps closer. “‘The woman you know as Elodie is actually Renata Nero. Known in certain circles as simply Nero. A high-level operative within the OMBRA crime syndicate.”
My equipment bag slips from my shoulder and thuds to the ground. “OMBRA? Like some evil SPECTRE organization?”
“Precisely.” Wilde nods. “We’ve been tracking Nero’s movements across Europe for years but never had an identity on them or even knew if they were a man or a woman. Until now. I suspected her OMBRA involvement at Malcolm Chase’s gala, but the tattoo on her wrist tipped me off on her true identity.”
Showalter pulls out his phone, showing me a surveillance photo of Elodie leaving the casino, already sporting a blonde wig.
“Wait,” I say, a horrible thought forming. “If she’s not FIS, was she ever protecting me from assassins?”
Wilde’s eyebrow rises. “Assassins?”
“On the train to St. Moritz. A man attacked me with knives and those metal punch things.”
“Brass knuckles?” Showalter supplies.
“Right, those. Elodie…Nero…whatever her name is, she saved me. She fought him off.”
The three agents exchange significant looks.
“What?” I demand.
“It seems likely,” Wilde says carefully, “that was staged to gain your trust.”
My mind reels. “She threw a man off a moving train to gain my trust?”
“Probably an OMBRA associate who jumped safely into water,” Wilde explains. “It’s a common tactic.”
“She stole one hundred four million dollars,” I whisper.
“Euros,” Wilde corrects. “And yes.”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. “So what happens now? Chase gets away with his Ponzi scheme?”
“MI6 has no interest in Chase or the one hundred four million,” Wilde says simply. “That’s FIS territory. My mandate is dismantling OMBRA. But since Nero has absconded with Swiss intelligence funds, we’re joining forces.”
“We’ll need your continued cooperation,” Showalter says.
I laugh bitterly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“She’ll contact you again,” Wilde says with certainty. “When she does, we need you to play along.”
