Given the way he whipped the vehicle around corner after corner, she figured their route was too dizzying for anyone to track. But she obeyed him nonetheless.
One minute stretched to two. Two quickly became ten. Chelsea stopped counting when her left foot fell asleep and the material of her coat began to dry. The lights of the city gave way to the darkness of a country road. Only when trees whipped by the Renault on either side did Dagan visibly relax.
“Okay. You can come out now.”
She’d been folded in a ball so long that it took some effort to climb into the passenger seat. Pins and needles went to work in her left foot as she glanced behind them expecting… What? She wasn’t sure. But after everything, after being found at every turn, after feeling safe only to be accosted and shot at onbothsides of the Channel, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see headlights behind them and closing fast.
Fortunately, all that showed in the red glow of the taillights were the dairy cows in the fields on either side of the road. Their black-and-white sides looked like big bucolic Rorschach tests. After a while, Chelsea’s breathing returned to normal. Her heartbeat soon followed suit, and she turned to Dagan.
“How the heckfire did they know where to find us?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How could theypossiblyhave—”
“Surry saw the sub,” he interrupted. “It’s possible he was able to pass on the information before he died. And Calais is the obvious point of entry into France, so…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t too much of a stretch.”
“If this is all Spider’s doing…”
“I’d bet my left nut it is.”
“Then the man is faster, smarter, and deadlier than we gave him credit for.”
“Which is why we need to get back home as quickly as possible. Pull up a map. I need you to navigate me to that private jet airport Emily talked about. What was the name of it again?”
“Paris–Le Bourget.” She dug her phone from her pocket and brought up Google Maps.
For a long time, they sat in silence that was only broken when she told him to make a turn. It was a cutting emptiness she desperately wanted to fill.
Peeking over at him, noting how the lights of the dashboard created fascinating shadows over his hard, uncompromising face and how the wind from the shattered window and wide-open vents tousled his drying hair, she finally said, “Dagan, I just need to tell you that—”
“Chels, unless whatever is about to come out of your mouth has something to do with this mission or getting us to the airport, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk. I need to think.”
“I just wanted to apologize again and say how much I—”
He held up a hand, stopping her mid-sentence.
“Dagan, please. Just let me—”
He shook his head, and she bit down on her tongue. He’d closed his ears to her—likely his mind too. Trying to talk to him would be as helpful as carrying on a conversation with a brick wall.
The adrenaline that had raged through her system left an acidic residue behind. It strafed her nerve endings raw. After the day’s twists and turns, shoot-outs and narrow escapes, the peace of the country road felt impossibly contradictory.
“I should probably call Emily and let her know what happened,” she finally said. That fell into the first category of his mission-slash-directions stipulation, right?
He grunted his agreement, but she wanted more. She wanted to hear his voice. Needed to keep the lines of communication open. She knew how quickly silence could build on itself until it felt too big and wide and deep to overcome.
“Dagan?” She thumbed on her phone and dialed Emily’s number. “Don’t you think—”
The look he flicked her stung more than a slap to the face. He was on to her. He knew her game and wanted no part of it. As far as he was concerned, the lines of communication had been clipped, and there was no telling when or evenifthey would ever be repaired.
She blinked away the tears that stung her eyes. She would rather he scream at her, rail at her, call her names. At least then she would know what he was feeling. What he wasthinking. At least then she would—
“You on your way to the airport?” Emily answered in lieu of a salutation.
“We are.” Chelsea filled her in on what had happened at the beach. “Just thought you all should know.”
“For the love of Fielder Jones.” Emily sighed. “I’ll be glad when you get back stateside and figure this mess out. If I have to spend too much time cooped up with these cretins, I—”
“Cretins?” Chelsea heard Christian say in the background. “It takes one to know one, darling.”
“—Might just commit mass murder,” Emily spoke over him.
