I leaned Maxwell’s way. “What’s the girl’s name again?”
“Really?” Maxwell rolled his eyes. “It didn’t seem important to remember?”
“What is it?” I growled.
“Eden.”
“Hmmm.”
Eden stepped to my right. The bandage covered the side of her face.
I sniffed her way. “You smell better.”
Fear filled her eyes. She opened her mouth and then closed it.
Annoyance hit me. “What?”
Her voice came out weak. “Thank you for saving me from the Devil.”
“I haven’t saved you yet. If I were you, I would put all my energy into prayer.” I gestured for her to follow. “Pray to your god. Ask him to guide Jean-Pierre toward wise choices today.”
She swallowed and stayed next to me.
Maxwell walked on the other side. “Your welcome by the way, Eden. We appreciate your gratitude.”
She gave him a weak smile.
“I have a question for you, Eden.” Maxwell held the door open for us. “If you play the flute, then why do you have a violin tattoo?”
She quirked her brows. “I don’t play the flute. I play the violin.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I barked. “Get inside and sit in the front row.”
She hurried along.
Maxwell followed behind us. “We could be nicer.”
“Why?”
“It’s good karma.”
“Fuck karma. If it messes with me, I’ll fucking shoot karma in the face.”
Maxwell chose not to respond.
Pavel came behind us with his phone next to his ear. “Jean-Pierre arrived northeast from us. Not too far. He’s got the police and several vans of men out there.”
Of course, Jean-Pierre would come with as many guns as possible.
But you don’t have your weapons from the warehouse, do you?
We moved within the dark theater. Far ahead, I heard classical music playing. The further we stepped in, I recognized the music playing as the intro into, The Public Enemy’s opening scene.
Already, David’s men stood at theater 7’s door entrance. Another stood by the screen with an AK-47. Ten of David’s men stood in front of the screen, armed and ready to kill. One man blocked each fire exit.
I looked at David. “Do we have people out by the entrance?”
“Several. Everyone I could get.” David scowled. “Trust me. I will do everything in my power to get her back.”
“You do, and you should definitely consider moving to Moscow.”
“Are you sure about this?” David raised his eyebrows.
“I need a number two.”
“A number two. Your number two?” David ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s a discussion for another time. For now, let’s focus on your mouse.”
And that’s why you’ll stand by my side.
Chapter 11
Kazimir
The smell of popcorn filled the air.
Minutes passed as we remained in the theater. Eden and I were the only ones who sat in the middle of the front aisle. She sat on my left, not touching the bucket of popcorn or soda next to her.
Everyone else had held positions all over the theater.
The Public Enemy, played on the screen in front of us. This special showing wasn’t for me, so no, I didn’t pay attention. My focus remained on Emily—who was somewhere around Paris, heading to the exchange.
I had asked Baba, “Will she be harmed?”
“The mouse rode the lion’s back with pride. Held onto strands of the mane, like it was a horse’s leather harness.” Baba grabbed the cards. “The mouse rides the lion, but she hasn’t tamed him. He roared the whole time as they walked into the sunset.”
I yearned to roar now. She didn’t have to head here. We could have gone to her. But she didn’t want us to not exchange Eden, to Jean-Pierre. She thought that would be good closure.
She doesn’t understand that I’m going to kill them all.
As long as I had her, there would be no need for Jean-Pierre and his fluteplayer to stay alive.
Or was the phone call something else? Was that really Emily’s words? Did the make her say that?
My brain tornadoed into confusion. Different possibilities filled my head with anxiety. Jean-Pierre had played a smart game today. He managed to have me do his bidding like his little bitch. And I rushed to serve him. I could not live without Emily. Jean-Pierre had proven that to not only the Corsican, but the entire world.
Surely, all would hear of the lion’s weakness—his mouse.
Fine. Let them think she’s my weakness. It would be true, and false.
According to Emily’s phone call, Jean-Pierre couldn’t even keep her for a full twenty-four hours.
But what if he made her say that?
No. it couldn’t be a possibility. Truth rang in her voice. She sounded free and overjoyed, and ready to end this. That wasn’t acting. It was all my mouse.
I asked Baba. “She escapes?”
“In one way, but not the other.”
A cold shiver had ran through me. “What does that mean?”
“She’ll escape them, but always be trapped by them too.”
“No.”
“I’ve dreamed it all.” Baba’s forehead wrinkled. “Even the gray smoke in the sky.”
“The gray smoke from today.”
“No. It’s from another day.”
What could I trust, and what should I ignore? According to Baba, Emily would escape. Sure enough, Emily called on the phone and said that she had fled. Excitement covered her voice. It was my mouse—my queen—thrilling in her audacities.