Geneva
Dieter Schwarz
Who first?
Océane, of course.
Five hours later, Dieter stood in the dark before a large house on the outskirts of Geneva, near his parents’ compound but several miles away. He’d skulked in the shadows of the hedges and bushes for half an hour to make sure that Flicka had gotten away cleanly before he walked up to the brightly lit door and rangthe bell.
Columns framed the entrance, limiting his options if he should need to run but providing potential cover if gunshots rang out of the darkness at him.
Flicka had taken the car and was sedately, calmly, cautiously driving around the outskirts of Geneva to keep moving. They’d established a meeting place and time and a fallback location, but if he missed both of those, she was to continueon toLe Roseyschool to meet her father’s staff without him.
If Dieter had misjudged Océane, he might not be alive to make either of the pick-ups, but he hadn’t mentioned that part to Flicka.
He suspected she knew, anyway.
A housekeeper answered the door and stared blankly at him, an unwashed, unshaven man standing on a wealthy doorstep, wearing only black slacks and a black tee shirt in thewinter cold. “The family is eating supper. They are not expecting guests.”
Dieter almost laughed. Yes, Océane would vigorously defend what little quality time she had with her kids. “Tell her Raphael needs to speak with her.”
The maid lowered one eyebrow, “I will ask,” and closed the door in his face.
The wintry wind bit through his thin clothes. Ice pinpricked his bare forearms and neck. Dietercrossed his arms, trying not to shiver and wishing they’d had money to buy themselves some proper clothes. At least Flicka should be warm in the car.
The door flew open. Océane stared at him.“Raphael?”
He muttered, “Can I come in?” as he tried to stop shaking from the cold.
She reached out and grabbed his wrist, flinging him into the house, and then fell into his arms. His skin was so coldthat she felt hot. “The news said there were more Archangel raids and so many were found dead, but they didn’t mention your name. It was just like last time, where nobody knew what happened to Raphael Mirabaud. Except this time, nobody mentioned your nameat all.It’s like you weren’t even there, like you didn’t even exist.Purée,I thought you were deadagain!”
Dieter hugged her. “I’m not deadyet. Why did you say ‘mush’ like it’s a bad thing?”
“The kids are in the next room, eating supper. I can’t let them hear me swear after the younger one called his teacherune putain proflast year, so it’s all stupid words for me now.”
Dieter could smell the juicy scents of roasted meat and fresh bread wafting through the air. His stomach shuddered and growled, but he clenched his abdominalsso Océane wouldn’t hear it.
She continued, “You’ll learn this with Alina soon enough. Is Alina all right? And Flicka? Mother tried to get them out, but the guards wouldn’t let her through. She came and got me, Ambre, and Anaïs, and we got our kids, and we left that afternoon. She wouldn’t tell us why, but she was persuasive.”
“They’re both all right. Alina is safely on another continent, behindtall walls and with armed guards. I’m still working on getting Flicka to safety.”
Océane stepped back and looked around him. “Is she outside?Did you leave her outside in this weather?”
“No. She’s elsewhere.” Hopefully safe and warm. He’d told her to run the car.
“Why isn’t she with you?”
“Operational security.” It was out of his mouth before he could soften it.
Océane blinked. “You thinkIwould hurt her?”
This line of conversation could only lead to conflict. “I need to tell you something important about Geneva Trust.”
“That we’re in bed with Russian mobsters? I think that’s abundantly clear.”
“That I handed off evidence to a friend, who took it to the police. I gave themeverything.”
“The Geneva police never bother us at the office. They still haven’t sent subpoenas or anything,even after the warehouse incident.”
