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Back Vortex Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. Epilogue
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. About the Author
  60. Also by Catherine Coulter
  61. About the Publisher

Olivia stopped as the light turned, watched the crossing cars stream through the intersection, homeward bound. She wanted to ask him which French arms dealer he worked for, but she had to pretend she knew as little about the flash drive as she could. “What do you want?”

“You know very well what I want. You are going to take me to Mike Kingman or you are going to summon him to us. You are lovers, of course you know where he is. You will tell me now or I will have to persuade you.”

“I don’t know where he is, no one does. Don’t you mean what your employer wants? You know, the man who tells you what to do, the man who gives you orders? Who do you work for?”

The muzzle dug in again. She said, “Listen to me, whoever you are, if I knew where Mike is, if the CIA knew where he is, I wouldn’t be in a CIA safe house, hidden from you people. Of course you know all about Monday night, about those two men who came to my house. One of them was called Razhan, an Iranian security agent who’s been killing people for fifteen years for his masters. But you’re French. Who’s your master?”

Olivia felt his gloved hand reach around her neck and squeeze, hard enough that she jerked and the RAV swerved. He cursed, dropped his hand. She looked at him in her rearview. He was wearing sunglasses, a hat and scarf. She wouldn’t know him if she walked past him on the street, but she’d never forget his voice. She grinned at him. “You know Kingman is gone, disappeared. Everyone’s thinking he stole whatever it is your boss wants and plans to sell it to the highest bidder. Chances are he’ll try to sell it to your boss, so why threaten me when your boss can buy whatever it is from him? What’s a few million euros, petty cash to him, right?”

She heard contempt in his voice. “You give me an excellent joke. You are saying this agent is a traitor? This man you have sex with?”

Olivia shrugged. “Sex is only sex, isn’t that what you French say? Enough people believe Kingman’s a traitor. He’d be a fool to tell me, tell anyone, where he is. Hey, maybe he’s already contacted your boss.”

The muzzle against her neck relaxed a tiny bit.

Was he thinking through this new development? Would his boss be willing to pay Kingman for the flash drive rather than have him kill both agents? It would be much cleaner.