But Jana’s face clearly explained that she knew the end had come and that she wasn’t going to allow herself to be tortured any longer. She glanced over the side of the Pont d’Alma toward the Seine and noticed the approach of one of the famed bateaux mouches—the “fly boats” that take tourists up and down the river. Jana’s eyes met Tesla’s and they struggled up the railing of the bridge.

“No!” Tesla cried, thrusting out her hand.

Jana hesitated only a moment and then tumbled into the murky water, directly into the path of a boat. Tesla saw her vanish under the prow.

The ship passed, the captain unaware of the tragedy. The tour guide’s voice echoed uninterrupted over the water. Tesla waited only a moment until she could see in the wake the outline of the woman’s torso, floating on her belly, arms outstretched, head bent completely under the brown water.

A police car was just arriving as Tesla returned to the Queen Elizabeth hotel. She detoured to the impasse entrance and went upstairs. The door to their room wasn’t locked.

“She’s gone,” Tesla whispered. “Dead.”

Charley was curled on the sofa, hugging her knees. She looked up at Tesla, face ashen.

“It won’t stop,” she said.

Tesla set the gun on a table. Charley was in shock. She went and sat down next to her.

“It’s OK, Charley,” Tesla said.

“It won’t stop.”

“I know. But—”

“The phone,” Charley said. “It won’t stop.”

Tesla’s whole body ached and her head was spinning. But she realized that Charley was staring at something on the carpet. It was Jana’s cell phone.

Tesla picked it up. The screen showed five calls and three messages. “Did you answer it?” she asked.

Charley just shook her head.

Tesla quickly scrolled through the calls. All from the same number but she didn’t recognize it. She punched in the message retrieval. The first one was in Hindu, unreadable to her. But the second was in French: ÒU ÊTES-TU?

It was the third one that made her stop. It translated to REPORT CM MISSION STATUS.

CM? Charlotte Middleton? But what was the mission?

Tesla hesitated then punched in a text response in French: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

Immediately, the cell hummed then the message appeared: ALIVE OR DEAD?

So there was her answer. It was Harold’s daughter they wanted. But why? Then she realized that she hadn’t heard from Harold since he left—from either his regular cell or his encrypted one. Which meant he had either been apprehended—or killed. One call to Charley or her would have pinpointed their locations. Harold did not want his daughter’s whereabouts discovered.

Tesla looked over at Charley, rocking slowly back and forth.