Prodding him, Alex asked gently, “Because?”
Chang blew out a long breath. “Because people who look too hard become the next victim. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I believe in the Ghost Wolf. I can tell you this much—his attacks happen all over the world, usually targeting operatives moving very valuable information. And there’s always an access card, one you can’t trace, wiped down and left with the body. Be careful, tóngzhì.” Comrade. Warning punctuated his words. “To the Ghost Wolf, it’s a game. A deadly one.”
Thinking of Madison, Alex took a calming breath, hiding his anxiety. “Thank you, my friend.”
Three
Paris, France
The Eiffel Tower
Madison stared down at the note. Strangely, the penmanship had become familiar.
Eiffel Tower
Noon
Alone
PS: I know the color of your panties
Grimacing at the last line, she stuffed the note back in her purse. No, she doesn’t. Does she?
With each passing minute, Madison's apprehension ticked higher. Over and over, she scanned the crowds. Nothing. Then she tilted her head back, viewing the metal weaving of the iconic structure in front of her up to the sky.
Should I go up? Hang out down here? Wave my hands in the air and holler like I just don’t care?
Frustrated, she checked her phone. Fifteen minutes after twelve. She’s late, and I’m out of here.
Determined, Madison hailed an approaching cab. When it stopped at the curb , she quickly hopped in. Not knowing a bit of French, she fished through her bag for the business card to the hotel. The car rolled away before she could find it.
“Don’t worry, Madison. I know where you’re going.” The sultry voice was as taunting as ever.
A dramatic entrance. Of course.
Madison looked up, meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Jordan. If you wanted me to hop in a taxi, why not put it in the note?”
“Because if I take the mystery out of our relationship, how would I ever steal your attention?” Jordan’s words were laced with suggestion. “Besides, I had to do some dry cleaning for both our sakes.”
Confused, Madison checked her outfit, but then caught sight of Jordan rolling her eyes in exasperation in the rearview mirror.
“Civilian translation? I needed to make sure nobody was following either of us. If someone were following you, watching you adorably check the time with a frantic glance about, they’d realize you’d been stood up. Hailing a cab to head back to the hotel would be a natural response. Further watching would be a waste of their time.”
Madison eased back into her seat. “Whose time? Other than you, who’s following me?”
Jordan gave her a small smirk. “Someone who’s about to make your life a whole lot harder.”
Madison didn’t respond, hoping her silence would encourage Jordan to disclose more.
“No.” Jordan slowly blew out a breath, somehow reading Madison’s mind. “We need to convince the puppet masters that you’re a pawn, and you play that part so much better when you’re in the dark.”
Mindful, Madison kept her tone steady and cool. “Then why warn me at all? Won’t that ruin your element of surprise?” Her added jazz hands for effect came out ineffective, as Jordan didn’t even look.
Without acknowledging the question, Jordan changed the subject, her tone now uncharacteristically serious. “Your party’s this evening, but when will someone start missing you? Calling to check on you?”
Of course Jordan knows about the party. If she knows about my panties, details about my party are hardly a national secret.
Madison shrugged. “I don’t know. Everyone’s busy prepping for tonight. I slipped away because they think I’m at a spa.”
“You’re not far off. My company can be very relaxing. Just give me a chance.” Playtime apparently over, Jordan refocused and continued. “So that leaves the ever-protective Mr. Robles. It should take him about ninety minutes to miss you, and that gives us plenty of time. I’ll need your phone.”
Not bothering to protest, Madison handed it over. If Jordan wanted to hurt her, nothing was stopping her. As they sped away from the city, Madison decided to sit back and enjoy the ride.
I wonder if she’ll kill me if I pester her with “How much longer till we get there?”
Hopefully soon.
Not killing me. Getting there.
Huffing, Madison pouted in silence. Phoneless rides are boring and inhumane.
Four
Le Port-Marly, France
“It’s breathtaking.” Madison walked alongside Jordan, admiring the building against a backdrop of picturesque French countryside. An architectural wonder loomed ahead as they ambled along the pebbled path from the car. Secluded within a cluster of trees was an elegant mansion three stories high.
“Where are we?” she asked, gazing ahead in awe.
With a convincing French accent, Jordan said, “Le Chateau de Monte-Cristo. The historic home of Alexandre Dumas. You love his book, right?”
Suspicious, Madison answered slowly. “Right.”
“It’s normally a tourist museum, but I’ve arranged for us to have lunch in a private room where we can talk.”
You know when talking would have been nice? During a cozy car ride with just the two of us . . . while I had no phone.
“Jordan, I know there’s a reason you didn’t want me to have my phone, but I’m an American in Paris. I’d really love just a few shots of this place.”
“Oh, you’ll get your photos. But your phone stays in the car.”
Entering the chateau, Jordan led the way past stone walls and vintage furnishings to an elegant room with a generous setup of an assortment of wines, cheeses, breads, and dessert pastries. Grabbing a bottle of pre-opened and chilled Moët, Jordan poured two glasses.
Placing a glass in Madison’s hand, she clinked hers to it. “To the bride-to-be.”
With a wry smile, Madison took a tiny sip. “Are you drugging my drink to put me in a compromising position?”
Jordan’s red lips curled to a salacious smile. “Really, Madison? I thought you knew me better than that. I only put willing participants in compromising positions.”
Madison smiled back before swallowing a mouthful. “Then what’s this all about?”
Deciding a snack would calm her nerves, she set her champagne flute on the linen-topped round table and headed straight for the buffet holding the food.
With a light stroke to Madison’s cheek, Jordan sat down in a gilded velvet-tufted chair. “It’s about history. You know the story behind Pearl Harbor, right?”
Carrying her plateful of appetizers, Madison sat down and nodded, reciting the highlights she could recollect. “Tora tora tora,” she recalled from the movie. “We knew the attack was coming and let everyone die to protect the secret that we’d tapped into Japanese communications.”
Jordan poured more champagne for herself. “And what’s the moral of that story?”
Thoughtfully, Madison considered her question. Unstopped by her uncertainty, she tossed out a few possibilities, hoping one might hit the mark. “National security is paramount? Strategic goals outweigh tactical needs? The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?”