This all could be in vain, and a trap, if Stella wasn’t even here.
Twenty minutes in, and I was starting to feel like my feet were on fire, except it was the cold scorch of this place burning me to find her. I was keeping my cool on the outside, except for the droplets of sweat running down my face, but on the inside—something hot and dangerous had exploded.
Even Saverio wiped a hand across his forehead as we pressed against a wall, waiting for his order to move again. He was checking one of his devices. At his word, hundreds of men would be set loose down here behind us. Saverio had decided it wasn’t a good idea for that many men to move together, in case the enemy heard something and got tipped off. But reinforcements were not far behind.
A few steps ahead, a turn left would lead us down another narrow vein to somewhere else. Most of the maps Saverio studied had given markers for the spots where there were ways to reach above ground from below. Saverio had a French acquaintance, though, an older gentleman who knew Uncle Tito and loved maps. He knew all about the Paris underground and had advised Saverio on a few things. He said even though most of the exits were marked, not all of them were. And some of the ones that were marked had been sealed shut, but we wouldn’t know that until we tried them. In a lot of ways, being down here felt like playing a game of Russian roulette.
Saverio’s eyes found mine, and he gave me one curt nod, then pointed left, in the direction of the new passageway. I asked in sign language if this was it, if we’d finally found something. He responded that he didn’t know for sure, but his gut was telling him yes. He also told me to take my time—we hadn’t come this far to lose the battle, because it would cost us the entire war.
My heart felt like it might explode out of my chest.
Then in either centuries or a single second, Saverio gave the signal to move. We turned down the passageway, and that was when we heard it.
Screeching.
Arguing.
French and Russian.
Régine and Boris.
Régine sounded distraught, and Boris sounded like he was bored with the argument but unyielding on his stance. It gave me a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Moro had said they were arguing over keeping Stella or getting rid of her, and it had become a war between them. It sounded like the battle was still raging.
We were so quiet that we were able to get to the edge of a new path, where their voices were echoing. Unless they had someone in Sub Rosa that would have alerted them, they had no clue we’d infiltrated their place. Saverio had cut off all their communications, though he rerouted them, so their calls just seemed like they were going unanswered.
“The whore dancing now is only going to work for a short time.” Boris’s tone was sharp but not overly excited. “Sooner or later, the patrons will realize, and we will have more trouble on our hands. I made the executive decision, and it is done. We will tell them her people from above found her and she went back up to the sky with them—the end of the fantasy.”
“We will still have to fight the Italians over her death!” she hiss-whispered at him. “And I would love to know who died and left you in charge?!”
“Ivan, and before that, Henri. Shall I go on, Queen Widow?”
“I am in control ofthis,shebelongs tome, and you hadnoright! Take her out.Now!”
I gave Saverio a look. A look that he knew meant—I’m going in, fuck the consequences. His eyes had been narrowed, listeningto the conversation, and at my look, he nodded and gave the signal forgo time!
Boris’s eyes widened for a second before they settled into something more pleasant. Régine went to take a step forward. To fight us? But she was halted by Boris’s arm snaking around her waist. He’d hit or pulled something on the wall, and an old trap door came flying down, sending the vermin squeaking and running in all different directions. Dust, made up of who the fuck knew, blew in the air, and when it cleared, we were the only ones left standing in the room.
Some of the men charged toward the closed door, but it was made of hard stone that had probably been hardening with each passing year, and unmovable. Saverio ordered the straining men to save their energy. It wasn’t budging, and we still had work to do. All points that had been marked on the map to have escape routes were being watched, but I had a feeling the one in this area was not one of them. Even though we’d surprised Régine and Boris, they had a fail-safe plan in play.
Of course they fucking did.
I moved the night vision goggles from my eyes, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Fuck!” I roared, and it seemed like the sound of my voice echoed for miles. I turned to Saverio. “The château.”
He gave a slow shake of the head. “All cleared. There are things there that you might want to see, after, but Stella’s not there. No surprise, though. There’s a room they kept her in, on the bottom level, but with an easy search of the place, she would’ve been found.”
“Tell me every fucking nook and cranny of the place was searched,” I snapped in Italian.
“It was,” Saverio said without hesitation, his tone mild in comparison to mine. “We’ve discussed this before. I’ll remind you again, since I know your head isn’t on straight right now. Understandably. Even though Evelina hasn’t left our safe house in Paris, she’s boots on the ground at the château through her man’s ear. He’s wearing an earpiece she’s connected to. She’s studied the layout of the château so thoroughly, she could find her way around blindfolded.”
I looked down, my hands opening and closing without me even thinking about what I was doing. So much panic inside of me. But instead of it turning me into mush, it was hardening me, becoming anger instead of crippling fear.
“Fuck!” I roared again, turning around and smashing my fist into the wall. I’d been expecting no give, a solid stone to break my hand. Instead, the stone gave some. It was pushed back. The other stones, which looked to be a bunch of squares, jutted out like crooked teeth.
Saverio was quicker than me. “Start digging!” he ordered in Italian.
The men all looked at each other in confusion, but I knew exactly what had happened. I started to claw my way through the stone, just realizing that the grout was new and not even hardened yet. Some of the stone looked wet because of whatever water source was leaking down here, so it was deceiving how old or new the area was.
As I started to claw and fling pieces of stone, the men around me started to help. By the time we reached a cardboard box that seemed to be used for storing some type of food, we were covered in the same color as the stone, and some of us were soaking wet from the exertion it took to find it.
