She picked up one of the Fiona journals she’d thrown down on the nightstand when she’d come into the bedroom. It was the book with the strange characters that MacDuff had not been able to identify. Well, as she’d told Eve, there was no way on earth she could help her with those reconstructions she had to do. Why not see if she could make heads or tails of Fiona’s puzzle? It would be nice if she had something to at least talk about with Eve the next time she called her back. She crossed to the window seat and sat down. It wasn’t foggy today and the courtyard was bright and beautiful. She saw MacDuff talking to a number of men by the fountain. His own employees from the village, or MI6? It had to be one or the other. She supposed it should make her feel safer, but somehow it didn’t. She was only grateful that it might mean no one would be hurt by her being here at the Run. Along with experiencing a deep frustration that she couldn’t do more herself to take charge of her own life.

Her gaze wandered to the large stable on the far side of the courtyard. Pristinely clean, and the storage rooms would probably be equally well kept. She’d known that no horses were kept in that old stable now. Perhaps she should go and take a look at Fiona’s belongings there and see if she had left any secrets…

Forget about it. She had no desire to go down to the courtyard and stumble over any of MacDuff’s sentries and have to be polite. She deliberately turned away from the fountain and opened Fiona’s journal. Start at the beginning and see what occurred to her as she turned the pages. Those dark marks that looked like dashes were odd. Maybe if she started to copy them into her sketchbook, they’d become more her own, and she’d be able to work with them…

She started to work…

*  *  *

Bell Helicopter
Somewhere North of Calais, France

Palik called Caleb at just before midnight. “Nice night for a jaunt across the channel. Enjoying yourself?”

“Not particularly. But there better be a good reason why you’re inquiring. I don’t recall discussing these plans with you. I can’t say I like the idea of you keeping such a close eye on me, Palik.”

“Just doing my job,” Palik said flippantly. “The autopsy report is in on the guy they fished out of the Tiber River. It was your MI6 friend, Jennings. Extensive torture, as suspected.” He paused. “How much did he know about you?”

“Not enough to make the effort worthwhile for Bohdan. I try not to become too chummy with other agents. It can be dangerous for them.”

“Like Jennings?”

“Exactly. That’s another reason why it’s better if I work alone.”