“I agree, but we have to get him there.”
“It will be too suspicious if another person tries to hire him to do a simultaneous job in Paris,” Grigoris insisted.
“Maybe it’s not. Maybe he has hundreds of job offers and gets to pick and choose, so one more offer won’t be suspicious,”Colum said. “But of all the things people have tried to hire him for, the job in Paris was the only one he responded to.”
Nikolett shifted her attention to her computer, answering email as she half listened to Grigoris’ meeting. It was smaller than their last meeting about the Spaniard, and Hande was the only admiral in attendance.
Colum’s plan had borne the most fruit so far. A rich American tried to hire the Spaniard for some corporate espionage that required breaking into the headquarters of an energy company based in Paris.
“None of it matters if he doesn’t take the job.” Hande’s voice was hard with exasperation. “We need additional incentives to get him to Paris.” There was a heavy pause. “We know someone he wants.”
Nikolett looked up at that, letting her expression twist since she wasn’t on camera.
Grigoris shook his head. “No.”
“Why not? We will be prepared. We assume he’ll know it’s a trap, and have counter-measures, so?—”
Nikolett leaned to one side, catching Grigoris’ eye. She pointed at herself and mouthed “bait?”
“No,” Grigoris said, both to the meeting and Nikolett. “The risk is too high.”
“Are you saying you couldn’t find a way to protect her?” Hande asked.
“There is no scenario or location that’s one hundred percent safe, and I won’t risk my admiral.”
Nikolett was tempted to cut in, but she wouldn’t undermine Grigoris. Instead, she started texting him her thoughts, knowing they would pop up in the corner of his screen.
“Give me a moment to confer with my admiral,” he said after her fourth text.
A moment later, his camera and mic both off, he turned to her.
“Nikolett, we’re not using you as bait.”
“I have no intention of wandering around a tourist area by myself where I can be shot or kidnapped. But would it have to be that? Would it be enough if I were just seen in the city?”
Grigoris sat back, thinking.
And this was the difference between Grigoris wanting to protect her because they were friends, and Grigoris being the security minister, whose job was protecting the territory, and by extension, her.
The Spaniard was an ongoing and serious threat. Territory operations had been severely negatively impacted. They were under siege, and this operation in Paris could possibly lift that siege.
“There would still be points of vulnerability. Every transfer—plane to car, car to hotel...”
“I know. But I’d need to be seen at least a few times. Even if it’s just walking from a car into a building.”
Grigoris searched her face. “You might get hurt.”
“As long as I don’t die.”
“You might die,” he countered.
“I don’t like that option. Do you think it’s possible to arrange a security protocol that would prevent my death?”
“No,” Grigoris said, but he was staring into middle space, thinking. “A sniper could put a bullet in your head as you get into the car.”
“Do you think that’s a realistic threat?”
“No.” Grigoris scrubbed his face with his hands. “If he just wanted you dead, there are better ways to do it. He shot you, but it wasn’t a kill shot, and we have to assume that wasn’t an accident.”
