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Authors: Jeff Abbott

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She thought of Gunnar. He needed to be hidden. Okay, whatever, he couldn’t decide what he was doing or where he wanted to
go, screw him for eternity. He would have to wait. ‘Okay. Please don’t hurt Taylor. Please. Please.’

‘Get a hold of yourself. I need you to be calm.’

‘You could have just asked! You could have just asked me for help! You know I would, I already … ’

The woman’s voice was a slow purr. ‘I needed an assurance you would act.’

‘I’ll do whatever you want.’

‘You’re going to work with a gentleman. He, like you, is very motivated to do a good job for us.’

‘I don’t work with other people.’

‘You will now, Leonie. Unless you’re willing to pull the trigger on a gun yourself and kill a man in cold blood. Your job
is easy. All you have to do is find a target. This man will then kill the target. And then you get Taylor back. Easy.’

Panic churned her guts. She sank down onto the couch. Okay, she thought, this is the reality of the moment. Deep breath and
deal. ‘Um, who is this man I’m supposed to find and who is it I’m working with?’

‘I love the smell of cooperation in the morning,’ Anna Tremaine said. ‘You’re very good at making last-minute travel arrangements,
darling. I’ll let you meet him at the airport. His name is Sam Capra. He can tell you the details.’

‘Anna, is Taylor all right?’

‘Perfectly fine. Asleep on a blanket.’

Leonie felt fear like ice pierce her skin. She forced herself to
listen intently. Anna, or one of her people, must have taken the baby in the past couple of hours, while she was absorbed
in her work, or dozing at her desk. Which meant that Anna might still be in Las Vegas, or was in a car. She tried to hear
the hiss of tire against road on Anna’s side of the phone. She heard nothing. If Anna was pulled over, then there might be
traffic as the background noise. A clue that would tell her where Anna was. The rumble of an eighteen-wheeler, a whine of
engine passing Anna’s car. She heard nothing. She cursed herself for not listening sooner. But shock had frozen her. She tried
to manipulate her memory: force herself into replaying every word of the conversation again. Every nuance. Because if she
did what was asked, and her child wasn’t return ed, the person she would be finding and killing was Anna Tremaine.

‘You know not a hair on the head will be hurt,’ Anna said in a babyish sing-song. ‘Haven’t I always been nice to you? Check
the email address we used in the past. Details will be there, and final instructions. Pack a bag for a few days. Be at your
smartest. Be brave. Do a good job, Leonie. For your child’s sake.’ Then the phone went dead in her hand.

Final instructions? Leonie got up and ran toward the laptop.

16
Las Vegas

I hurried toward the ticket counter at McCarran when a woman stopped me. She was slightly built, auburn-haired, with a full
mouth and purple-smudged eyes. She wore jeans and a green
blouse and carried a small briefcase and a travel bag. She was pretty but she looked like she’d had a night as rough as mine.

‘Sam Capra?’ Her voice shook slightly.

I nodded.

‘I have your ticket. For the flight to New York. I just bought it for you.’

‘Okay,’ I said. This was the woman who would find Jin Ming. My motivated partner, as Anna had said.

She gave me the ticket. Her hand trembled. Then she looked at me, studied me as if my face were an interesting map, then she
turned away from me and went and sat down. The security lines were long but moving.

I followed her. We were being forced together and I did not want anyone else knowing my business; especially when my business
involved killing a man. ‘Who are you?’

‘Leonie. I’m supposed to come with you.’ She wiped her nose with a tissue.

‘Why?’

‘To help you find the target.’

‘I don’t need help.’

‘Well, I’m helping you because they have my kid. So you don’t get a vote.’ She said this staring straight ahead, not looking
at me.

I sat down next to her. ‘Anna took your child?’

‘Yes. My daughter, Taylor.’ Leonie didn’t look at me. ‘We should go through security, we don’t want to be late for the flight.’

‘You could go to the police.’

‘Not an option.’ She looked past me, at the crowds. People seemed oddly happy and energetic in the Las Vegas airport. Happy
to leave because they’d had a great time, or happy that
they’d just arrived, flush with money and with promise and ready to spin the wheel.

‘Why not?’

‘Our lives are not each other’s business.’

‘I’m supposed to go on a job with you. I want to know what the hell I’m signing up for.’

‘You’re signing up to do what Anna tells you. She has your kid, too, right?’

I said nothing.

‘I’m sorry. I’m supposed to help you find this guy Jin Ming. We needn’t talk unless we’re discussing him.’ One stray tear
of upset tracked her cheek and she wiped it away with quick resolve.

‘How are you going to find him?’

‘There is no place on earth he can hide from me.’ She stood. ‘We should probably go through security. I could use a drink.
I really hate flying.’

We had thirty minutes before they would be calling our flight. I followed Leonie to a private lounge where we were admitted
by our first class tickets. Inside was a scattering of business types and lushed-up couples, a few keeping the Vegas party
going. One guy, lubricated with gin and tonic, complained with his mega-phone voice about having lost ten thousand dollars.
I would have traded problems with him.

We sat down in a far corner. A sleek hostess – truly sleek, her hair was gelled back in a severe cut, her dress was silver,
she looked like her day job was testing wind tunnels – brought Leonie a large glass of pinot noir and me a whisky, neat.

‘When did your kid vanish?’ I asked.

She took a fortifying sip of the wine. ‘Earlier tonight. Anna, or her people, took her from her crib while I was working in
my
bedroom. I fell asleep at my computer. I never even heard them in my house.’ The moment her voice started to quake she caught
herself.

‘Listen to me.’

She looked at me.

‘Unlike most parents of missing kids, we know exactly what we have to do to get our kids back and we know who has them. We
can’t waste mental energy on blame. We have a job to do. Our kids need us.’

She nodded; took another sip of the wine. ‘Wow, do you double as a life coach on weekends?’

‘No. Where’s your husband?’

‘I’m a single mother.’ She watched, past my shoulder, the drunk complainer order another round. ‘Where’s your wife?’

‘Ex. In a coma.’

‘Coma.’

‘Yes. One of Anna’s buddies shot her in the head a few weeks ago.’

She let five seconds pass. ‘That sucks.’

Really, what else do you say? Then she said: ‘I mean, I’m really sorry. I’m not quite myself this evening.’

Of course she wasn’t – she had to be in deep shock. ‘What’s your connection to Anna?’

‘None of your business. I don’t know you, Sam. All I want is my child back. That’s all.’ She rubbed at her jawline, glanced
at the clock. She did not want to seem to look at me. Her daughter had been kidnapped only hours earlier. Her self-control
was extraordinary. I reached out and touched her hand with my fingertips. Just a reflex. She flinched.

‘We’re on the same side. I’m in your shoes. They have my son, too.’

‘So Anna told me.’ She studied her wine. ‘Do we have to talk beyond finding Jin Ming? Seriously?’

It occurred to me that maybe she was a plant; someone Anna sent along to make sure I killed Jin Ming and didn’t try to use
him back as leverage against Novem Soles. I didn’t know if she really had a kid or really had suffered a kidnapping tonight.
She could simply be a convincing actress. She could be lying through her teeth. But I couldn’t get anywhere with her if she
knew I harbored suspicions. She was supposed to be a panicked mom, I was a desperate father. Let us, I thought, play true
to our parts.

‘Yes, we do have to talk. I know you are upset. I know what you’re feeling because I’m feeling it, too. If we can’t trust
each other, we won’t get far in finding Jin Ming.’

She gave me a doubting look. ‘I tell you where he will be. You kill him. That’s all we have to discuss.’ She took another
hit of the pinot.

‘Leonie––’

‘Listen. This is the single worst day of my life. You are a dude who kills people. So I don’t want to know you. I don’t want
to be your friend or join your support group for parents of kidnapped kids. I just want my Taylor home.’ She picked up the
wine glass. She stared past my shoulder toward the loud group in the back corner. ‘If those assholes are on our flight, I
may end up punching someone.’

A dude who kills people. That was so not what I was. But now wasn’t the time to reassure her I wasn’t some slavering ax-wielder.
Winning her trust would be a slow process. ‘This target. What can you tell me about him? What does he know about Novem Soles?’

‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t flinch at the name of the group; she’d heard it before.

‘You must. That knowledge would be key to tracking him, predicting where he will run, who he will ask for help.’

‘All you need to do is kill him.’ She set the wine glass down hard. ‘You’re the bullet, I’m the brains. I just tell you where
to shoot. The bullet doesn’t need any details except a location.’

Well. ‘Did Anna threaten your daughter if you tell me something you’re not supposed to?’

‘I would say kidnapping in itself would be threat enough. I … know Anna. Children are simply a commodity to her. Products
that other people make for her and from which she profits. She’ll kill or sell our kids and we’ll never find them if we give
her anything other than complete obedience.’

Was she trying to provoke me? See how I’d react? I studied her again. Fierce intelligence in the eyes. I leaned forward.

‘Has it occurred to you that neither of us is getting our kid back? We have zero guarantees she’ll honor her side of the bargain.
We need to find a way to protect ourselves, to make sure she hands the kids back. We could trade her Ming, alive, for the
kids.’

‘You listen to me.’ Leonie pointed a finger at my face. ‘You hear every word I’m saying. Don’t you dare think of going against
Anna. If we deviate from the plan, Anna will kill the children.’ She lowered her voice to the barest whisper. ‘We are doing
exactly what she tells us to do. If you try to fight back … well, you won’t.’

‘You’ll kill me?’

‘I’ll do anything for my child. Anything.’ Stare down between us.

‘We are on the same side,’ I repeated.

‘This is crazy. Please, Sam. Let’s just try to get along out of necessity.’

I’d mishandled this. But where was the primer for this
situation? I got up and fixed us two sleek plates of appetizers, laid on the sleek buffet by the sleek hostesses. Leonie watched
me. I brought back her food, set the silvery plate in front of her.

‘Thank you.’ She nibbled at a meatball, then at a carrot stick, out of politeness.

‘You hold yourself together remarkably well for someone whose child was just taken,’ I said. ‘I have the advantage. My child
was taken weeks ago. I have had time to … adjust.’

‘That’s a white lie,’ she said. ‘I don’t think you’re adjusted at all. It’s all stifled just inside.’

I ate a slider, sipped at the whisky.

She looked at me. ‘Inside I’m a wreck.’

‘When my kid and my wife were taken – I couldn’t eat or sleep for days.’ I was also framed as a traitor, undergoing interrogation
in a CIA-run prison in Poland, but that was an avalanche of detail right now for Leonie.

‘Your wife was taken. I thought you said … ’

‘Anna’s people grabbed my wife when she was seven months pregnant. I’ve never seen my son face to face.’

She just stared at me for a long moment. ‘How awful. I am sorry.’

‘Let me guess why you can’t go to the police. Anna provided you with your baby girl.’

She ate some more of the carrot. She did not seem the type for an impulsive admission. ‘Why would you say that?’

‘You said you work on hiding people which suggests to me you are breaking a few laws, committing forgery for new papers, maybe
credit fraud. You know her. She got you your kid. What Anna giveth, Anna taketh away.’

She was good at concealing her emotions – after all, me dissing her was nothing compared to the agonies she must be
feeling for her kid – and the only sign of betrayal on her face was the momentary quiver of her lip. ‘No. Taylor is mine.
But I’ve done work for Anna. Sometimes the children she places with parents’ – note she didn’t say the unthinkable word of
sells –
‘need birth certificates. I forge them for her. And I’ve helped hide people she sent to me.’

‘Did you do a birth certificate for Julien Daniel Besson?’ My breath couldn’t move in my lungs. I leaned in close and she
leaned back. I grabbed her hands again. ‘That was the name my son was given at birth. He was born in France. Julien Daniel
Besson.’

‘I didn’t. But if Anna’s using your child as leverage against you then she hasn’t placed him. She’ll only place him now if
she doesn’t need him any more.’

Her words were a knife across my throat. She saw it.

‘I’m sorry, Sam. I really am.’

‘You help her, forging certificates.’

I thought I could hear the soft burr of her grinding her teeth. ‘It’s not a choice.’

I stared at her. ‘They have more dirt on you.’ I didn’t know yet if I could trust her. Cornering her about her secrets wasn’t
going to win her over to my side.

‘I am not up for Twenty Questions.’ She stood. ‘Don’t talk about defying Anna. We do what she says, and nothing else. I’m
not putting Taylor’s life at risk. And you shouldn’t be endangering your own child’s life, either.’ She spat the last word
like I was the scum of parenting.

There was no point in saying, you’re wanting us to entrust babies to killers and murderers. ‘Okay, Leonie. Okay. Calm down.’

‘I don’t need to know you, you don’t need to know me.’ She downed the pinot noir in two hard gulps, picked up her bag. ‘Let’s
go get on our plane.’

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