"We really need to talk," she lowered her voice. "There's sixty million dollars’ worth of trouble from the Algerians. Did you overhear anything while you were guarding that party last weekend?"
He pursed his mouth, "Naw, they were 100% focused on booze and fucking. Use the burner as soon as you can."
Her return to her office was worse, as Maura ran into a terrified Nicholas, who seized her arm and dragged her along with him.
"Back to the Blood Room?" she asked sadly.
"Yeah," he said mournfully. He brightened suddenly as he asked, "Did you, er, say 'hi' to Anna for me?"
"She was... occupied, sorry."
Once pinned under a barrage of questions from The Big Three in the Boardroom, Maura, as usual, refused to look at James. But this time, it was due to a combination of absolute horror that she'd allowed herself to become unhinged in front of him last night, and equal parts fear of what she might see in those cold eyes. Was he going to have her killed? Would he do it himself? A half-filled mug of tea nailed her in the shoulder, and Maura came back to the present, furious with herself for not keeping her attention on a life and death meeting and failing to duck Kingston's missile.At least the tea is cold,she consoled herself.
"Yes, Ms. Kingston,” Maura tried to focus, “we feel confident we've swept the system clear- there's no other echo files, no trackers on any accounts. We should have all the new funds moved into protected offshore lines by Wednesday."
The meeting dragged on, Maura trying to wipe tea off her arm with the wet sleeve of her sweater and ignoring the leering smile from Fassell and the indifferent stare from James. Reeling back to their office after the inquisition is over, the two leaned on each other.
"As God as my witness," moaned Nicholas, "I actually looked down to make sure they hadn't put down plastic sheeting."
He wasn't joking. It wouldn't be the first time an unlucky soul was shot or stabbed in the Big Three's inner sanctum on a tarp to keep the expensive furnishings clear of blood or intestines.
Driving home that evening, Maura was methodically working through the last week, trying to establish an order. "I have to find out what's in that shipment," she mused, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "But even then, whatever they're moving into Algeria from Morocco is only half the equation." Eager to get inside her houseboat and on to the burner phone with her senior agent, Maura's hopes were dashed abruptly when she saw Yagura and another Corporation guard waiting by the docks.
Yagura opened the door to their black Mercedes. "Get in, MacLaren."
She held her ground. "Not until you tell me by whose orders."
He was expressionless as he pushed her forward. "Mr. Pine."
When they didn't head back in the direction of the Corporation's building, Maura's thoughts began racing. Were they taking her somewhere to dump her body? Would Yagura kill her, like he had the Japanese agent?I won’t be as easy to dispose of, she thought, narrowing her eyes. She wasn't much relieved when they ended up in front of James's house. Getting out on shaky legs as Yagura opened her door, she followed him up the stairs as he knocked on the door. Both staring at the glossy black door, her fellow agent's mouth was set in a thin, furious line.
"You're fucking Pine." It wasn't a question.
"Not my choice." Maura managed.
"You knew what you had to do. You were required to report it immediately. You're compromised, you stupid, fucking whore-" Yagura stopped as James opened the door, still in his overcoat and leather driving gloves.
"Thank you, Yagura." James still wasn't looking at Maura.
"Do you want us to stay and return her home, sir?" The bodyguard's voice was bored but polite.
"That won't be necessary." James said, "you may leave." His frigid gaze finally turned to Maura. "Come in." When she hesitated for a moment, he growled "Do not keep me waiting, MacLaren. You will not enjoy the consequence." With the feeling she was sealing her doom, Maura squared her shoulders and stepped into the entryway, hearing the finality of the locks activating on the door behind her.
Shrugging off his black cashmere topcoat, he looked at her over his shoulder.
"Take off your coat."
Maura did so, hanging it next to his, placing her purse on the antique table in the hall. He was doing the slow visual survey again, looking her over.
"Take off those horrible glasses as well."
Still silent, she placed them next to her purse. Suddenly, unwisely, Maura said, "You'd prefer to look me right in the eye as you kill me?"
His jaw tightened again, the only visual sign that James heard her. "Take off your clothes."
"Take- take off my clothes? Here?" Maura looked around the circular foyer, standing in front of the door.
"I won't repeat myself, MacLaren. Do it now."
