‘Good. It’s unlikely there’ll be much electronic traffic in the convent itself for you to pick up on, but you never know. If Elena does turn out to be Athena, then she must have had some means of communicating with her network. So. Be prepared. Be aware. But above all, we need eyes on Sister Elena.’
Ella nodded gravely. ‘How long will I have?’
‘Usually, the delivery girls are offered a meal and invited to pray with the community before they take the boat back,’ said Nikkos. ‘We hope that will give you an hour inside, perhaps a little more. Whatever happens, whether you’ve found Elena or not, make sure you rejoin the rest of Maria’s staff before they leave and that you take the boat back to Folegandros with them. Someone will debrief you afterwards.’
Ella scowled. ‘I can’t leave without finding Athena.’
‘Certainly you can,’ Nikkos replied robustly. ‘Don’t forget, Sister Elena may not be Athena.’
‘She is,’ muttered Ella. ‘I feel it in my bones.’
Nikkos rolled his eyes. ‘Bones, schmones, my dear. Your job is to make sure.’
‘If it is her, and I get her alone,’ Ella mused, ‘I’d have a chance to strike.’
‘Strike?’
‘I’d have a chance to kill her.’ Ella’s eyes met his. ‘Shouldn’t I take it?’
Nikkos gripped her firmly by the shoulders. ‘Absolutely not. No. That’s not your job.’
‘But, The Group have been looking for her for twelve years,’ Ella protested. ‘What if this is our chance. Our only chance?’
‘It won’t be,’ said Nikkos.
‘You don’t know that!’ Ella snapped, frustrated. Why had she gone through all that physical training at Camp Hope if she was never going to be allowed to use it?
‘Think it through,’ said Nikkos calmly. ‘If Sister Elena is Athena Petridis, and you kill her, or harm her in any way; and if you’re discovered, which you would be; then you’ll be arrested and charged. Remember, as far as the Greek state is concerned, Athena Petridis was a philanthropist and campaigner for children’s rights. She was never convicted of any crime.’
‘Which is ridiculous,’ Ella muttered, outraged. ‘Everybody knew what she did.’
‘Not everybody,’ said Nikkos, shaking his head. ‘Had you ever heard of her or her husband before you joined The Group?’
Ella had to admit that she hadn’t.
‘Exactly,’ said Nikkos. ‘And besides, suspecting – even knowing – and proving are not the same thing. If you act rashly, your cover will be blown, The Group’s anonymity will be at risk, and years of hard work undone. You will likely go to jail. We won’t be able to save you. And your gifts, the precious abilities that your parents gave you? Those will be wasted. Lost, to us and to the world. For ever.’
Ella considered this for a moment. When she spoke again it was quietly, but with an unmistakable edge of steel. ‘Athena Petridis stood by and watched while her husband held my mother’s head under the water. While he choked the life out of her. She deserves to die.’
Nikkos took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Yes she does. No one’s disputing that. And she will. But we are all cogs in the wheel that will crush her, Ella. That’s how The Group works. No single one of us is the wheel. Not even you. Your part is to locate, to identify, to trap. Remember, if it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t even have known about Sister Elena. We’d never have looked at the convent.’
Feeling only slightly mollified, Ella listened as Nikkos outlined the rest of the plan. Tonight marked the end of Persephone Hamlin’s existence. Cameron McKinley’s men would be waiting, but they would never see their quarry again. Instead, like a caterpillar spinning its chrysalis, Ella would sleep here tonight, at Helios’s mansion. In her guest suite she would dye her hair dark brown, add some fake tattoos to her upper arms, and slip into the simple, worn clothes of Marta, the baker’s assistant from Patras. At five a.m. she would be awoken and smuggled out of the estate by van, at the bottom of a hamper of laundry. By six fifteen a.m., Marta would be on a fishing boat on her way to the Cyclades.
The way Nikkos spoke about it, it sounded so simple. As if it had already happened, and Ella’s transformation were already complete.
‘Follow these directions exactly,’ he told her, standing up and taking his leave, ‘and you will be fine. Once I’ve gone, wait ten minutes and then go inside the house through those doors.’ He pointed to a set of French doors opening onto a lawn about fifty yards to their left. ‘Someone will be there to meet you and escort you to your rooms. Everything you need is there. Good luck.’
Ella watched as he walked away, his burly, bear-like frame looking even bigger than usual in his oversized suit. Signals and voices buzzed in her head – this house was a veritable hive of activity – but she shut them all off, unable to isolate a single, useful channel, or to focus on anything. Exhausted suddenly, she longed to be able to retreat to her room and sleep.
But first, of course, she must change. Shed her old skin, like the snake she was becoming, and assume her new role, her new identity. Just as her parents had before her.
It was frightening how much she was looking forward to it.
Anna Cosmidis looked again at her Pearlmaster 39 Rolex watch, her irritation building. The fabled divorce attorney had already been paid for her time, but she still objected on principle to being kept waiting.
‘Renate.’ She buzzed her secretary again. ‘Still no word from Mrs Hamlin?’
‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ve tried to reach her but the number I have no longer seems to be working. Should I cancel the appointment?’