Didn’t they know how close to death they were? They had to, right? So why didn’t they care? Mia was about to shake her head at the birds’ stupidity but stopped herself. Wouldn’t they do the same about her if they knew what she was doing for a living?
She parked the moped near a white sedan and climbed off. In her fanny pack, in addition to her garrote, she carried the SIG Sauer P365 she’d acquired on the black market on Ibiza. It was a small weapon, but it carried thirteen rounds. She wished it had red dot optics for faster target acquisition, but it didn’t. She’d have to rely on the gun’s iron sights. Mia unzipped the fanny pack and slipped her hand around the grip of the pistol, but she didn’t draw.
The old woman was gone, and the couple had turned a corner. Only the two fearless pigeons remained. Mia moved fast, crossing behind a parked van and circling wide. The angle wasn’t perfect, but from forty feet out, she had a partial line of sight on Verena and the man.
Verena’s mouth was moving, and her right shoulder hung limp by her side, as if it had been popped loose. Mia winced. Not because Verena was clearly in pain, but because she was talking to the man. Mia wondered if she shouldn’t have dealt with Verena the same way she had with Maximilian Kross.
It’s not too late,she thought, pulling the pistol out but keeping it low against her thigh.
She was thirty feet out when the man turned his head slightly, as if he’d sensed something.
Mia raised her pistol.
Chapter Forty-Four
Valencia, Spain
Caspian knew he should have left minutes ago, but he hadn’t expected Verena Kaine to fold like this. She was unraveling, and she wasn’t faking it. He’d seen enough people in real fear to know the difference. Just as he had thought, she wasn’t a hardcore operative. She was a former LAPD detective.
“I’m telling you,” she said, her voice trembling, “she’s a psychopath. She’ll kill us both.”
Caspian said nothing, he just stared at her, watching her twitch and glance toward the street as he made up his mind about what to do next.
“Help me, and I’ll tell you everything,” she pleaded.
“What do you know about the woman who was killed at Ses Oliveres?” he asked.
Verena looked away, averting her eyes.
“Please—”
“Liar! You don’t even know her!” he snapped.
“I do!” she blurted. “Her name’s Sofie Bergmann.”
Caspian’s heart slammed once in his chest, but he didn’t let it show.
“I know about her. I know why she was killed,” Verena continued. “But you need to take me with you.”
Caspian’s mind was racing now. Every second they lingered in the alley, his odds of making a clean exit dropped. But Verena Kaine wasa vault he hadn’t finished cracking. He had to find out everything she knew about Sofie. He had patted her down and he hadn’t found another weapon. That, combined with the fact he had rendered her right arm useless, meant she was no longer a priority threat to him. He didn’t trust her, not by a long shot, but he had to keep moving.
What did he have to lose by bringing her with him? At least as far as the Audi. There, he could continue to pick her brain and make his final decision about what to do with her. If she could help him understand who he was up against, it was worth a shot.
But something felt off.
Before he could decide, Verena once again glanced toward the street, and her eyes widened. Caspian’s instincts kicked in. He turned his head just slightly and caught movement at the edge of the sidewalk. A woman wearing a green blouse and white pants was raising a pistol.
Caspian grabbed Verena with one arm and hurled her sideways while drawing his pistol with the other hand. The woman fired just as he launched himself to the left and out of her line of fire. The shot was unsuppressed and loud. The bullet ricocheted off the brick wall where he’d been standing a split second before. Caspian hit the ground and fired as he rolled to his left. His round missed, going wide. The woman darted to her left and vanished behind the corner of the building.
Caspian shifted into a low firing stance.
“Get behind me!” he barked at Verena.
She groaned but pushed herself up from the concrete where he’d thrown her. He hadn’t been gentle, but he couldn’t care less. Minutes ago, she had tried to kill him, hadn’t she?
She stumbled behind him. In the distance, he could hear sirens. Someone had heard the gunshots and called the police.
The shooter peeked out from cover, just for a split second, not long enough for Caspian to aim properly, but he fired anyway, aiming slightly wide. His round hit the wall inches to the right of the edge of the building. He hoped it would be enough to scare her away. The lastthing Caspian wanted was to get into a big firefight and hit a bystander or some poor bastard in a parked car.
