The Enemy (49 page)

Victor cursed himself for not understanding sooner.

He didn’t know how, whether they’d somehow tracked him or followed Adrianna to him. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that they had found him.

The Kidon were in Sofia.

The charade with the camera must have been to make a positive ID. With his longer hair, tan and beard he looked notably different from the man caught on camera a month before. They had needed to get close to make sure he was really their target. It was brazen, risky, but they hadn’t been aware Victor knew they were after him.

Procter had been wrong about Barcelona, or maybe his intel had just been out of date. Across from Victor, Adrianna continued to talk about universities and studying, completely unaware of the mortal danger they were both in.

They were being watched at this very moment, Victor knew. He detected no shadows in the restaurant, which would be unnecessarily close, but they would be waiting outside, ready to follow him and Adrianna when they left.

He had an advantage – they had no idea he was on to them. When would they strike? He didn’t know. Probably not at his hotel. Hotels were notoriously difficult places for actions to go down – he knew that better than most – but that wouldn’t stop Kidon operatives. Mossad
had successfully pulled off more hotel assassinations than anyone else. But they didn’t want to kill him – at least not yet. Otherwise they could have gunned him down outside the opera house the minute he’d been identified. They wanted answers first. They wanted to know who he was and who sent him and why. A kidnapping was more difficult than an assassination, so they would have to make an attempt on the streets, somewhere with the fewest possible witnesses to see him bundled into a van.

So long as Adrianna was with him Victor couldn’t escape the Kidon. Alone, he might have a chance.

‘So you see,’ he became aware Adrianna was saying, ‘I can’t quite decide between Columbia or Cambridge.’ She laughed. ‘Maybe I’ll do a PhD at both.’

‘It’s a tough decision,’ Victor said. He stood. ‘Excuse me for a minute.’

He headed to the restrooms, knowing the Kidon watchers outside would see him go, but they wouldn’t be worried because Adrianna was still sitting at the table, awaiting his return. While she sat there, Victor gained time.

The restaurant’s bathroom was compact and clean. A small window was set high in the back wall above the furthest stall. Victor entered it, knocked the lid down on the toilet, stood on it, worked the latch, and opened the window. Cool air flowed in and over his face. He peered into the alleyway beyond. It was dark but empty. The Kidon were watching the front. There was no reason to watch the back.

In three minutes they would start to wonder, in five they would begin to worry. By six, they would send someone inside to check. But with a six-minute head start he would be long gone, in a cab or on a bus, heading out of town. They wouldn’t catch him.

Their attention would turn to Adrianna as a solid link to him, even if she was anything but. They wouldn’t believe that she knew nothing about him. They would have to be convinced. He tried not to picture what they might do to her to extract information she didn’t have.

But together they couldn’t avoid them, and if Victor sent her away first it would only make them suspicious and any chance he had of escaping would vanish.

Victor didn’t have true friends. He cared about no one. It was one of the ways that kept him alive. His relationship with Adrianna was an act they both played, and she played it for money, nothing more. She used him like he used her. There was nothing else between them, nothing to stop him now.

He climbed through the window and into the night.

Adrianna checked her watch. Emmanuel had been gone for over four minutes. She sipped her milky tea while observing the other diners around her. There were lots of couples, the odd family, everyone enjoying the food and having a good time. Indian waiters and waitresses effortlessly glided around the tightly packed tables, taking orders and delivering food with graceful ease.

She’d probably had one glass of rosé too many with dinner and was feeling a little less composed than she would normally prefer to operate, but she was having a good time. That wasn’t an act. Her dinner had been delicious, the best meal she’d had in a long time. The mushroom matar hara pyaz was divine; so creamy. And the mango ice cream was just the thing to freshen the breath afterwards.

She finished the last of her tea while she thought about Emmanuel. The man of mystery, tall and lean, scars covering his athlete’s body, always alert, never truly relaxing, and with a falseness in his smile and a deadness in his eyes she pretended not to see. She wanted to give him a hug – a real hug – but that was a dangerous path to take with a client. Even if Emmanuel had always been a dream client. Always the perfect gentlemen. Always paid without a fuss. Never got jealous of her other clients. Never hit her. Never tried to make their arrangement into something it wasn’t. Never made her feel like a whore.

A young, smiling waiter stopped by her table and asked if she’d like anything else. She declined. After he’d gone Adrianna checked her watch again. Emmanuel had been gone over six minutes now.

She noticed a man entering the restaurant. He was slight of build, with pale skin and curly black hair. He seemed particularly under-dressed in jeans and a nylon jacket, and waved a hand to dismiss a waitress’s offer to seat him. Adrianna watched him as he headed for
the restroom. He looked vaguely familiar, as if she’d seen him before but only in passing. Had he been on the same flight, or in the crowd at the airport when she landed? He glanced her way out of the corner of his eye, and Adrianna averted her own gaze so as not to be caught watching.

She turned her thoughts away from him, whoever he was, and back to Emmanuel. Adrianna had a strange feeling he wasn’t coming back, ridiculous as that idea was. It was just that extra glass of wine playing with her, she knew, but maybe she’d scared him off with all that talk of him being different last time they met. Had she upset him by claiming he’d changed? She should have known better than to get that personal with a client. The kind of men who paid her for company didn’t want her analysing them, especially a man as private and particular as Emmanuel.

Adrianna silently cursed herself for saying anything. Why had she? She knew the answer. Whatever the act they played, after Linz she had thought – no, feared – she wouldn’t see Emmanuel again.

Now that fear had returned. Again she checked her watch. Seven minutes. She wondered how long she should wait, and whether anyone would notice if she left without her date.

The man in the nylon jacket emerged from the bathroom. He looked flustered and drew a cell phone from a pocket as he hurried across the restaurant floor towards the door. She felt him looking at her again, but she was used to men looking her way. Not all of them knew how to do so without making it obvious.

The smiling waiter noticed her gesture and drifted over.

‘Anything else, madam?’

She shook her head. ‘Can I get the bill, please?’

‘Of course.’

A moment later a long leather folder was on the table and Adrianna opened her handbag to retrieve her purse. She withdrew a credit card.

‘Sorry I was so long.’

Adrianna looked up to see Emmanuel taking his seat opposite her. She hadn’t even noticed his approach. She felt equal parts relief and foolishness, but a large part of her work was maintaining her cool, whatever the situation.

‘Were you gone a long time?’ she asked. ‘I can’t say I noticed. I had the waiter bring the bill.’

‘Forget about that,’ he said, leaning closer. ‘I want you to listen to me very carefully, Adrianna. You must believe everything I tell you and do exactly as I say, without questions.’

He looked so serious it was almost funny. ‘Okay,’ she said, putting on an overly serious expression of her own. ‘I’m listening.’

Emmanuel said, ‘After we’ve finished talking, I want you to get up and go to the ladies’ restroom. Go into the far stall, put down the toilet seat and take off your shoes.’

‘My shoes?’

He ignored her. ‘Then stand on the toilet and open the window in the wall. If it won’t open then you’ll need to break it and use your handbag to clear out the glass. The next part will be difficult, but you have to do it as fast as you can. Don’t worry about getting dirty. You have to hurry.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Listen to me, Adrianna, you don’t need to understand. There isn’t time to make you understand. You just need to do exactly what I’m telling you. You need to climb through the window and out into the alley on the other side. The drop isn’t far and I’ve put some cardboard boxes on the ground outside that will break your fall so you don’t hurt yourself. You’ll find yourself in an alleyway. You must go left and then left again. You’ll come out on to a side street. A taxi will be waiting for you. Get into the back and sit directly behind the driver. Tell him to go straight to the airport. On the way, take out your cell phone and throw it out of the window. Tell the—’

‘My phone. Why? What’s going on? You’re scaring me.’

‘Tell him to hurry,’ Emmanuel continued. ‘Tell the driver you’ll pay him double if he steps on it. Show him the money if you have to. At the airport take out as much cash from an ATM as you can. Then get the first flight out, whatever it is, wherever it’s going. When you arrive at your destination, take another flight, the next available flight. It doesn’t matter where to. When you arrive you can go wherever you wish, but take a train or bus. Pay in cash. Don’t use any credit cards again.’

Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t understand. Emmanuel was a whole other person. Intense. Frightening.

He grabbed a napkin and scribbled down a long number, an alphanumeric one and the name and address of a bank. ‘This is a numbered account. The balance of it is now yours. It should keep you going for a few years if you’re careful. Are you paying attention?’

‘Yes, yes. But I don’t—’

‘This last part is very important. You can’t go back to Geneva. You can’t go home. You have to stay moving. You can’t contact any of your friends or clients. And you can’t contact your brother in America. You can’t have anything to do with your old life.’

She felt nauseous. ‘How … how do you know about David?’

‘Listen to me, Adrianna. You’re in a lot of danger. That’s my fault, and I’m so sorry, but you have to do exactly what I’m telling you if I’m to protect you.’ He wrote another number on the napkin. ‘Call this number in a week’s time. Hopefully, I’ll have left a message to say everything’s okay and you can go home, or I’ll have left instructions. I’ll use a code so you know it’s from me.’

‘What code?’

He shook his head. ‘If I give you one now they’ll make me tell it to them. But you’ll know it’s from me, all right? If there is no message, or there is no code or the message asks you to meet me somewhere, you must ignore it and not call the number back under any circumstances. In which case you’ll never be able to go back home.’ He paused. ‘And whatever happens, you won’t see me again.’

She couldn’t stop the tears. She reached out a hand to touch his.

‘Stop crying,’ he said. ‘Stop it right now. If they see you crying, they’ll know.’

‘Who? Who will see? Who will know? Who will make you tell?’

‘Put that napkin in your bag and don’t lose it. It’s time to go.’

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Do you remember everything I’ve said?’

‘I don’t understand why you’re doing this.’ She squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. ‘Who will see? Emmanuel, what is going on?’

He snapped his hand away.

‘
Go
,’ he snarled.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, wide-eyed.

‘Someone you don’t want to know.’

Adrianna folded up the napkin, subtly dabbed her eyes, stood and headed for the ladies’ room. She didn’t look back. Victor was glad of that. He didn’t want to see her face and the terror he’d put there. She pushed open the door to the restrooms. Then she was gone, for ever.

He finished his cold tea and paid the bill with cash, including a one hundred per cent tip. Better the waiter got his money than Mossad.

If he left this instant it might confuse them for him to be without Adrianna, and that might buy Victor enough time to create some distance. But if he left now, watchers in the area might notice a taxi and the woman who sat sobbing in the back. While he remained here at his table, Adrianna was sure to make it to the airport safely.

After ten minutes they would know for certain she wasn’t going to return, and that she must have snuck out the back. And that fact would tell them that Victor knew they were out there and he would have lost his only advantage. It would be too late to catch up with Adrianna, but they would take him at the first available opportunity.

When his watch showed it had been eleven minutes since Adrianna’s departure, Victor stood, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and stepped outside.

The air was cool. The sky was cloudless. There was a full moon. The Indian restaurant stood just outside Sofia’s centre, in a dense commercial neighbourhood. The street out front was busy in the daytime, but at this time of night few establishments were open and the street was quiet. Pedestrians were sparse. The storefronts on the opposite side of the street were all dark. Some had security grilles. Cars were parked on either side of the road, but there was little traffic. Victor examined every person.

He went left because it would take him into central Sofia. More people there, more cars, more buses. More options. Plus there was access to Sofia’s metro system. It was relatively small and new, but he needed as many escape options as possible. He couldn’t know where or when the Kidon would strike and he needed terrain that would make their job more difficult while at the same time offering him the most advantages. A taxi was no good. He would be even easier to follow than on foot, and all they would have to do was get a car in front and a car behind and that would be it. He walked at a hurried pace. There was no point trying to act casual. They knew he knew.