Before I can ask where they are, the front door shudders. The second hit makes it bow, and the third busts the lock completely.
Lisette screams my name.
I plunge the knife into the asshole’s chest, twist, and yank it free. It finds a second target in a blond thug aiming a pistol at my head. The gun clatters to the floor seconds before his body. The last man turns on his heel and runs.
“Stay upstairs!” I shout. Precious seconds pass as I muscle the two dead men to one side of the landing and send a quick text to Griff.
Get Mateen and run.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I find Lisette hiding behind the bedroom door. “We’re leaving. Now. Stay close and do exactly what I say.”
I don’t wait for her to acknowledge me. We don’t have the luxury of time. I take the suitcase and, at the bottom of the stairs, grab my duffel and pass it to her, along with my keys. “Got to keep one hand free. Don’t stop for anything. My car’s a black Fiat parked on the other side of the street. If I tell you to run, drive to the Hotel Rêve, get a room—there’s cash in the bag—and call Ford. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes. What about Mateen?”
Fuck. I can’t tell her yet. That these assholes know where he is. She’ll shut down. “We have to go. Now.”
Lisette flinches, but when I head for her broken front door, she follows—and sees the dead bodies on the floor. “You…killed two of them?”
“Yes. And I’d do it again to keep you safe.” I cut my gaze to hers. Too pale. Too calm. Too detached. But until we’re in the car, it’s better this way.
There’s no sign of the third man on the street. If he’s smart, he ran as far and as fast as he could. But when have I ever been that lucky?
“Call Griff,” I say when my phone connects to the car’s Bluetooth. Three rings. Four. Fuck. Lisette huddles against the door, crying quietly. “Do you have any emergency contact numbers for Mateen’s teachers? Chaperones? Anyone?”
“Amelie and Laurent. Their son is Mateen’s best friend.” She pulls her phone from her pocket, but the screen is a spiderweb of cracks. “I…it won’t unlock…”
“We’ll clone it as soon as we get to the hotel. I have a couple of burners in my bag.” I want to tell her everything will be okay, but I can’t promise that now. Not knowing this Raziq fucker has at least eight men on his payroll.
I try Ford, but the call goes straight to voicemail. “Call me back, Marine. Now!” I snap, then pull up the only other number programmed into this phone. Pritchard fucked me over when he got shitcanned, but he’s our last hope.
“Nomar? Why the hell are you calling me?”
“Because I can’t reach anyone else. Someone tried to snatch Lisette outside her house, and the guy guarding Mateen isn’t answering his goddamn phone. Faruk had a brother, andhe’sbehind this whole fucking thing.”
“Where are you and what do you need?”
“We’re heading to Hotel Rêve. I need a location and status on the kid right fucking now. But unless you have some other way to reach Griff, there are two dead hostiles in Lisette’s entryway and her front door is busted. You have any contacts in the French National Police who can clean up the mess?”
“No, but I can get one. Might be able to track Griff, too. Give me ten minutes.”
He hangs up before I can reply.
“What do we do now?” Lisette asks, her voice barely a whisper.
“We go to the hotel, barricade the door, and wait for Austin to call us back. I sent Griff a text before we left and told him to take Mateen and run. If we’re lucky, he’s not answering because they’re on the move.”
“Mateen would not go with him unless he knew the code word.”
“Firefly? He knows it. We all know it, sweetheart.”
She stiffens. “Do not call me that. Not now. I do not know if I can ever trust you again after what you have done.”
“Lisette, there’s more you need to know. About what I didafterI stopped working for Shapur.”
“Yousoldwomen. Nothing else matters.” She returns to staring at her broken phone, one tear after another slipping down her cheeks.
* * *
