Once the SUV's door shut behind them, Thomas whirled, grabbing Straker's suit with both hands. "Where the fuck," he enunciated with exquisite precision, "is my WIFE?" The bodyguard's face was turning red, but he did not attempt to dislodge the man's grip.
"She is safe, Sir," he managed to croak.
Clara's pretty face was red and tear-stained, but she explained, "I overheard Michael saying they were coming for Lauren. That Number One ordered it. Lauren drugged him and we put him in the cello case. She's hiding in my suite. I don't know where my husband is."
Thomas rubbed his forehead. "You two are geniuses. It now looks as if MacGowen is behind Number One's murder- wait- how DID Lauren manage to drug Kingston?Kingston?"
Straker glowered. "She slipped my notice by taking off her St. Margaret's medal. She visited Number One's suite under the guise of looking for Mrs. Kingston. Miss Clara enlightened me just before the Bratva lieutenants broke in. We were able to hide Miss Lauren first."
"I would shoot you right now, Straker," Thomas said, "but for the fact that Lauren's outrageous behavior is not at all surprising to me. Do we know where Number Three is?" Looking at Clara's red, swollen eyes, he apologized, "Sorry darling."
"No need to apologize," she sniffed, "this has just been a really terrible day so far."
Absently patting her hand, Thomas looked out the window, his mind moving through all the options at the speed of light.
As they drew up to the massive restaurant they'd dined at their first night in St. Petersburg, they could hear the shatter of glass and the furious bellow of Mogilevich. Thomas smiled unpleasantly. This was a huge loss of face for Bratva, violating the accords of meeting with international partners. It made the Russians look weak before the multiple organized crime empires that had dealings with both parties. How could you negotiate with someone who would murder the president of a partner corporation, and under their hospitality? He knew the man would be half-insane with rage, and he intended to take advantage of it. Stepping out of the luxury SUV, Thomas turned, blocking the other two. "Straker, take Clara back to the hotel. Make sure everyone is looked after. I have enough people with me, and you have other responsibilities."
As his keen grey eyes viewed the dark-suited men piling up behind Number Two, Chuck nodded his head. "Of course, Sir. Do..." he hesitated, not sure if it would insult his employer. "Do be careful. Miss Lauren will never forgive me for leaving you." As he watched Williams stride off, not quite rubbing his hands together with eagerness, he sat back with a sigh. The man would somehow come out on top of this. Number Two was quite the slippery bastard.
Once back in the James Bond Suite, Clara scampered for the complicated series of doors holding the bathroom and walk-in closets. "Lauren honey? Are you okay?" She rapped on the door three times, and Lauren opened it, falling out into the other girl's arms.
"What happened," she gasped, "is Thomas all right? What about Kingston?" Looking over the redhead's shoulder, Lauren viewed the seething stare of Chuck. "Oh, shit," the girl mumbled, before stepping away from Clara. "I'm so sorry Chuck. I'm so sorry I did that to you. Clara's with MI:6, she's going to help us..." her apology died off as the man she'd come to love like a father stared at her silently.
Finally stepping up, Chuck raised his hand and it was all she could do to not flinch. Slowly, he opened one battered fist, displaying her St. Margaret's medal with her GPS tracker. As she bowed her head, he placed it back around her neck. "Never," he managed, "never do that again. Not to me. Not to your husband. Do you understand?" His voice was like broken glass, and he watched her eyes fill with tears. But when she looked up, she realized his were glistening as well.
It was several hours later when Thomas finally called, and Lauren dived for her phone. "Areyouokaypleasesayyes!" she blurted, both relieved and terrified.
Rubbing his eyes, he sighed at the sound of her voice. "Darling, I intend to spank you until you cannot sit down for a month for terrifying me. But not just now. Are you all right?"
"Yes," Lauren's voice wavered, trying to sound like a strong organized crime boss's wife and not like a newlywed who was about to burst into tears at the sound of her husband's beautiful, cultured tone. "I'm fine. Kingston is gone and they... wait, can you talk?"
"Yes, darling," he answered, "my line is secure. The organization is in disarray, this has been a disastrous day for Bratva. Kingston is quite dead and they are certain MacGowen and Number 3 are behind it. Fassell is also the idiot who attempted to negotiate the new contracts for the drugs and human trafficking. I'll be quite happy to give him up. Is Clara all right? She's so fragile."
Laughing, Lauren stretched a little, not having moved for the last hour as she'd stared at her phone. "Don't worry about Clara. I knew that no one could be that sweet! She's MI:6, Thomas. She's going to help us, and it was her idea to drug Number One and-"
Thomas felt like he'd just been punched in the throat. "Did you just... did you say Clara told you she was working with the British Secret Service?"
"Yes," Lauren agreed, "she's been brilliant, really-"
"Darling," Thomas loosened his tie. "Darling, that is not possible. I have been feeding information to MI:6 for the last six weeks. Clara is not an operative. Where are you now?"
Swallowing the scream of frustration and terror about to rip from her throat, Lauren answered, "In... h- her suite."
Chapter 38 – It Was All So Simple When They Planned It
In which Lauren and Thomas discover that old allies become new enemies. And vice versa. Also, Kingston is still dead.
Earlier that day...
It had all been so simple when Clara and Lauren planned it.
"I'm... going to murder someone," Lauren said numbly, not quite believing it.
Clara gave an un-Clara like snort. "No, you're killing the monster that wants your husband dead and has beaten and drugged our friend into a coma. If we don't do it, he'll kill Thomas. Or you. And me. Can you do this? He'll never even let me in the door."
It was the threat against Thomas that galvanized her, and Clara knew it. "Give me the stuff. I just have to get him to drink it, right?"
Handing her the pill in a tiny vial, Clara nodded. "Drop it into a drink, it'll dissolve instantly."
