He dropped the bedspread, then stood, looking her over, his gaze lingering on the pockets of her light jacket—making her grateful she’d left the thing in the palm pot. “Maybe it’s in the car,” he said.
“And if you can’t find whatever it is?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He took one last look around the room. “I have photos.”
She glanced over at Nigel. The poor guy was trying to loosen the zip tie binding his wrists, and she wanted to tell him to just stop. They’d kill him in a second if he tried to escape. Which reminded her exactly of what she wanted to talk to Fisk about.
She followed him into the hallway again.
This time, he didn’t look back. “I told you, not now.”
“I got the message,” she said, deciding it wiser to avoid him altogether. “I’m going up front to get a menu from the pub across the street. Thanks to our uninvited guest, we’re going to need to get our meal to go.”
They turned the corner, and he slowed his pace, undoubtedly searching for that lost wheel. Her gaze lit on the disturbed potting soil in the palm. It seemed so obvious to her, and when he walked up to the plant, she froze as he moved the branches to look behind it.
The fronds rustled as he let them go, and he cursed softly under his breath as he continued out into the lobby. She made a right to the front desk and asked for a menu from the pub, looking it over as he left. When she saw his car drive off, she returned to the hallway, dug her fingers into the potting soil, and pulled out the cipher wheel. She brushed it off, stuffed it into her pocket, then hurried to her own room, where she hid it in the lining of her suitcase.
She had no idea what she was going to do with it. She only knew that if the thing was so important that Fisk was carrying it with him, then she wanted it for herself.
Forty-seven
Sam parted the curtain in their darkened room, watching the road, until he saw a black Mercedes drive past. Fisk. One down, three to go, he thought, dropping the curtain, then returning to where Remi still sat, listening in with her low-tech glass pressed to the wall.
A knock at the door startled them both until he looked out and saw a maid with the complimentary champagne for the newlyweds. He took the bottle, tipped the maid, then closed the door, grateful she didn’t seem to notice he and Remi weren’t the couple who should have been in the room.
He put the ice bucket on the dresser. “Anything?” he mouthed.
She held up her finger a moment, then whispered, “Sounds like they’re discussing who’s going across the street for dinner . . . Alexandra and Jak are going over to pick it up. Ivan’s staying behind.”
“I like those odds much better.”
“Except . . .” She listened a moment, then said, “They’re calling their order in.”
Which meant they’d have less time than he’d hoped. At least for the plan he was formulating. Definitely a work in progress, as he thought about what could go wrong. No matter. They’d just have to work faster.
Remi was a quick study, and the moment they heard Alexandra and Jak leave, he went over his plan with her. A lot of luck was going to come into play. Although Remi was armed with her Sig Sauer P938, and Sam his Smith & Wesson, neither of them had foreseen anything beyond checking out a castle or two when they’d set out this morning.
Rescuing hostages had never entered their minds.
Couldn’t be helped now, he thought, as he gave Remi one of the Buck Knives from his backpack. The ultimate goal was to get in and out without any shots fired. If all worked as planned, he’d have Ivan disarmed while Remi freed Nigel.
He nodded toward Remi, who picked up the phone and called the office. “Room 103, please.” She gave him the thumbs-up. “Front desk,” she said into the phone a moment later in her best British accent. “Room service should be right there with your champagne . . . No, sir. I believe the woman in your party ordered it on her way out. She said something about bringing it by before dinner . . . It is complimentary, sir. You don’t have to drink it.”
She hung up and shrugged. “He was pretty insistent that they didn’t need it.”
“It’s all we’ve got. Let’s do it.”
Remi pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail, figuring that would be more maid-like. Sam grabbed his backpack, then opened the door. “Remember,” he whispered. “As soon as you have Nigel free, you both go out the window, get to the car, and meet me out front.”
As they left the room, she grabbed the ice bucket with the champagne bottle, stepped out into the hallway, then stood in front of the door. When Sam was in position to the side, she knocked, then looked down so that Ivan would only see the top of her head.
He cracked open the door and peered out. “Yeah?”
“Champagne, sir.”
She held up the bucket.
He opened the door wider. “I told you—”