Kiss Me While I sleep (33 page)

“I’m the friend you were told about,” Swain said, hoping this guy wasn’t going to blow the whistle on him. He knew Swain was CIA; if he asked Lily about that, the jig was up.

“I do not understand.”

No, he wouldn’t, because his assumption-a correct assumption-was that Swain had been sent to France to take care of a problem, namely Lily. Yet here Swain was apparently working with her.

“You don’t have to understand,” Swain replied, “just tell us if the meeting is still on.”

“Oui.
I did not realize this park would be so-I am at the basin in the center. That is an easier meeting place. I will be sitting on the rim of the basin.”

“We’ll be there within five minutes,” Swain said, and closed the phone.

Lily snatched the phone out of his hand. “Why did you do that?” she snapped.

“So he’d know for certain you weren’t alone,” Swain said. That was as good a reason as any, plus it was the only one that came to mind. “He’s waiting for us at the center of the park, at the basin.” He took her arm to lead her into the park.

She pulled her arm free. “Hold it.”

He stopped in his tracks and looked back at her. “What?” He was afraid she was going to insist on talking about his out-of-the-blue statement, because in his experience women loved to talk things to death; but her mind was going in a completely different direction.

“I think we should stick to the original plan. You stay back, where you can watch me. Rodrigo may be slick enough to have known we’d be suspicious if he jumped at the chance for a meeting.“

Let her meet alone with a guy who knew he was CIA? That wasn’t going to happen.

“It wasn’t Rodrigo,” he said.

“How do you know?”

“Because the guy wasn’t familiar with this park; he didn’t know the entrance on a busy Saturday wasn’t a great place to meet. Do you think Rodrigo wouldn’t have checked that out? And look around you; would Rodrigo be likely to try kidnapping a woman with all these people around? This is someone who’s probably on the level.”

“Probably, but not certainly,” she pointed out.

“Okay, look at it this way. If it
is
Rodrigo, would the presence of one person stop him from what he wanted to do?”

“No, but it would be impossible for him to do what he wanted without attracting notice.”

“Exactly. Trust me, I’m not risking your life, or even my own. Rodrigo would have chosen somewhere secluded for a meet, because it would be stupid not to.”

She mulled that over and finally nodded her head. “You’re right. Rodrigo isn’t a stupid man at all.”

He laced his fingers with hers and started her moving. The feel of her slim hand in his made the bottom drop out of his stomach again, and her trust weighed on him like an anvil. God, what was he going to do?

“Just so you know, I heard what you said.” She peered at him over the upper rim of her sunglasses. It gave him a jolt to see brown eyes looking back at him instead of pale blue ones, as if he’d been sucked into an alternate universe.

He briefly tightened his fingers on hers. “And?”

“And… I’m glad.” It was simply said, and arrowed through him. Most women found it easy to say “I love you,” much easier than men, but Lily wasn’t most women. For her, loving and admitting to it must have taken every ounce of courage she possessed-and that was a lot of courage. She humbled him in a way he’d never expected, and had no idea how to handle.

They walked hand in hand into the huge formal park, which had once belonged to Cardinal Richelieu. The large basin with its center fountain sat in the middle. People strolled around, some just enjoying the gardens even though in November they weren’t as lush as they would have been a few months ago, some sitting on the rim of the basin having their photographs taken to go in an album of vacation memories when they returned home. Swain and Lily strolled around the basin, looking for a lone man wearing a red scarf.

He rose to his feet as they approached. Swiftly Swain appraised him. He was a neat, trim man, about five-ten, with dark hair and eyes and the bony facial structure that shouted “French!” From the way his tailored jacket fit him, he either was unarmed or, like Lily, wore an ankle holster. He carried a briefcase, a detail that made him stand out from the rest of the park-goers; this was Saturday, not a time for office workers. He had no spy craft, Swain thought, or he’d know that he should . blend in rather than stand out.

Their contact’s dark eyes searched his face first, then went to Lily’s. Surprisingly, his features softened. “Mademoiselle,” he said, and he gave a little half-bow that was completely natural and respectful. Yeah, that was definitely the quiet voice Swain remembered. He didn’t like the way the guy was looking at Lily, though, and he pulled her a little closer to his side in one of those gestures guys use to signal other men that they are edging into personal territory.

The Interpol man already knew his name, but to prevent a slipup in front of Lily that couldn’t be explained, Swain said, “Call me Swain. Now, you know her name and you know mine. What’s yours?”

The shrewd dark eyes studied him. The Interpol man didn’t hesitate because he was unsure what to do, but because he was considering every angle. Evidently he must have decided there was no reason to be secretive, since Swain had his cell phone number and the resources to put a name with it if he chose. “Georges Blanc,” the man said. He indicated the briefcase. “Everything you need to know about the system is in there, but after careful consideration I realize that a clandestine entrance is probably not feasible now.”

Swain looked sharply around, making sure no one was within hearing. It was a good thing the man’s voice was naturally quiet. “We should go somewhere more private,” he said.

Blanc also looked around, and nodded his understanding. “I apologize,” he said. “I’m not well-versed in procedure.”

They walked toward a line of carefully manicured trees. Swain didn’t care for formal gardens himself, preferring his nature in a more unruly state, but there were stone benches scattered about the park and he supposed on a quiet day there would be something serene about the setting. It seemed to appeal to a lot of other people, though this wasn’t his cup of tea. They found one of those stone benches, and Blanc invited Lily to sit. He placed the briefcase beside her.

Suddenly alarmed, Swain stepped forward and seized the briefcase, moving it away from Lily. He thrust it back at Blanc. “Open it,” he ordered, his tone crisp and hard. A briefcase could easily contain a bomb.

Lily was on her feet and Swain moved so that she was behind him, at the same time reaching his hand inside his jacket. If the briefcase
did
contain a bomb, maybe he could shield her, though he doubted Blanc would explode a bomb while he himself was still standing so close. But what if Blanc didn’t have the detonator, and someone watching them did?

Alarm flashed across Blanc’s face, both at how fast Swain had moved and at the hardness of his expression. “There are only papers,” he said, taking the briefcase and thumbing the catch releases. They sprang open and he lifted the lid, showing the sheaf of papers inside. There was an inner pocket and he held it open for Swain’s appraisal, then riffled the papers. “You can trust me.” He held Swain’s gaze as he spoke, and Swain got the message.

Tension eased from his shoulders and he removed his hand from the butt of his weapon. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t put anything past Rodrigo Nervi.”

Lily punched him in the back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Trust her to get pissed because he’d tried to protect her. If she’d known what might be going on, she would have shoved in front of him to protect
him,
but she wasn’t trained in this type of shit any more than Blanc was and for a couple of seconds she hadn’t realized what Swain was doing. He’d be damned before he’d apologize for doing something she’d have done. He angled a narrow-eyed look at her over his shoulder. “Live with it.”

She glared at him, then deliberately stepped around him and once more sat down on the bench. “Please sit down, Monsieur Blanc,” she said in her perfect French.

With an amused glance at Swain, Blanc did so.

“You said a clandestine approach might not be feasible now,” Lily said, prompting him.

“Yes, the additional external security measures have made that difficult-especially at night, when there are additional guards at every entrance, in every hallway. There is actually less security during the day, when there are more workers.”

That was logical, Swain thought. It wasn’t good for their purpose, but it was logical.

“I propose to get you inside during the day.”

“How are you going to do that?” Swain asked.

“I have arranged for you to be hired by the younger Nervi, Damone, who has arrived from Switzerland to aid his brother. Have you ever met him, mademoiselle?” he asked Lily.

She shook her head. “No, he was always in Switzerland. I gather he’s something of a financial wizard. But why would he need to hire anyone for anything? Wouldn’t Rodrigo do that, anyway?”

“As I said, he is here to shoulder some of the administrative burden. He wishes to have an outside firm look at the security measures and make certain they are as impregnable as it is possible to make them. Because this is for the protection of the laboratory, Rodrigo agrees.”

“Rodrigo knows what I look like,” Lily pointed out. “All of his employees do.”

“But he does not know Monsieur Swain, does he?” Blanc said. “That is fortuitous. And I believe you are somewhat skilled at disguise?”

“To some degree,” Lily said, surprised that he knew anything about that.

“So this Damone is going to hire us, sight unseen?” Swain asked doubtfully.

Blanc gave a slight smile. “I have been given the task of locating someone for him. He trusts me, and will not question my judgment. Damone Nervi himself will take you through security, into the laboratory.” He spread his hands. “What could be better?”

“This isn’t a simple job,” Swain said. For the sake of privacy, the three had repaired to a small cafe, where they sat at the most isolated table with their coffee and went over the briefcase’s contents. They were using both French and English, having discovered this worked well for them. Blanc could express himself better in French, but Swain could understand it, and vice versa. Without appearing to think about it, Lily used both depending on whom she was speaking to. “It’ll take at least a week to complete my shopping list,” he continued.

To Swain’s annoyance, Blanc immediately looked at Lily as if for confirmation. She shrugged and said, “I know nothing about explosives and demolition. Swain is the expert.”

He hadn’t told her he was an expert, but he appreciated the vote of confidence. As it happened, he did know his way around a detonator.

“The cover story you set up for Damone is good,” he explained, “but now we have to back it up. From what you’ve said this Damone isn’t stupid-”

“No,” Blanc murmured. “Far from it.”

“-and you can bet Rodrigo will at least be curious enough to check our credentials.”

“At the least,” Lily said wryly. “If he has time, he’ll do a full-scale investigation.”

“We’ll have to make sure he doesn’t have that time. We’ll have to plant the explosives the first time we’re in, because there might not be a second chance. Does Damone trust you enough that he’ll take us into the laboratory
before
Rodrigo has a chance to investigate us?”

“He does,” Blanc replied without hesitation. “I will tell him I did a thorough investigation myself.”

Swain started to ask if Damone didn’t know Interpol did no investigations, but swallowed the words because there was no way in hell he could explain to Lily how he knew Blanc was Interpol. Blanc wasn’t the only one who had to tread lightly in these conversational waters.

“We’ll need a panel truck or van, business cards, stationery, coveralls-all the outer requirements of a business. The van can carry everything we need; at least these blueprints of the complex give me an idea of the area we might have to cover. I don’t suppose you know exactly where the lab in question is in the complex?”

Blanc shook his head. “Nor do I know if everything pertinent is in one area. Records may be scattered throughout the complex, though that would be shoddy record-keeping, wouldn’t it?”

“Or smart, if there are now built-in redundancies, so if one set of records is destroyed there are backups. That’s something we’ll have to find out while we’re there. Can Damone have Dr. Giordano himself give us a tour? Since it involves security for his own work, he would likely show us any redundancies so we could make certain they’re properly protected,” Lily said.

They were working with a lot of uncertainties here, but Swain remembered that Lily had a reputation for being able to read people. That was why, except for one thing, he’d been totally himself with her. He hadn’t wanted her to detect any phoniness about him. Lily had met Dr. Giordano, gotten a sense of the man. He was proud of his work, she said; professionally it was sheer genius. So, yeah, he might well show them all of the safety measures in place for his research material. It had already been destroyed once; he wouldn’t want that to happen again.