Charlotte Bennardo - Blonde Ops A Novel

28

“This is great. Just great,” Kevin muttered when we all heard the distant slam of the door that led into the alley. He banged his head against the railing in frustration.

“It could be worse,” I said.

“A lot worse,” Sophie sniffed. “We could be dead.”

She was right. We were still alive, and that meant we had a chance to escape and help Mrs. Jennings. Kevin wrestled in his ties, shaking the iron screen. I thought I heard the cracking of plaster.

“That’s not helping,” I snapped. “Do you want this thing to come crashing down on us? Every time you move, you make the zip ties tighter. These things are hard enough to get out of,” I said.

Sophie’s laugh was desperate; she was on the edge. “What are you, some kind of a ninja? What type of boarding school did you go to?”

“Probably juvie,” Kevin said not so under his breath.

I shot him an evil look. “Well, my education is going to be worth more here than your extensive knowledge of fine Italian leather.”

Sophie looked tearfully hopeful. “Can you really get us out?”

I felt a little smug. “I can.”

“This I’d like to see,” said Kevin. “Whatever you’re going to do, make it quick. They could decide to come back. Not leave any witnesses…”

I gulped. Taj said he didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I’d be an idiot if I believed him. Parker got hurt. Plus, he hadn’t said anything about Ortiz or Luca. Mentally, I shook myself. Focus! I’d tensed up when my ties had been put on, knowing how to gain a few more millimeters of slack, all that I needed to work my way out.

“Hold still and don’t ask any questions. I have to concentrate. And don’t move !” I ran my fingertips along the railing. It was old and rusty with rough edges. Very cautiously, I rubbed the plastic band against the edges, up and down, as high and low as I could manage. Unfortunately, Luca bound us with thicker ties, the kind used for bundling electrical cords, not the nice skinny ones our gardener used to trellis the roses.

“Are you done yet?” Kevin whispered.

“Shut up and let me concentrate,” I growled, “Work on your own ties. Rub them against the rough edges of the railing, but try not to pull on them or you’ll make them tighter.”

Snap!

I was free!

Scrambling to my feet, I dug in my pocket for my phone.

“What are you doing?” Kevin screamed. “Get us out first!”

“Trying to reach Candace.”

I stopped. If I used my phone, Taj or Ortiz would know we were free because of the spy app she’d downloaded. And I couldn’t take a chance that she hadn’t done the same with Kevin’s and Sophie’s phones. I couldn’t tell Candace anything until I could use a phone I was sure Taj hadn’t touched.

Frantically I scouted around for scissors or a knife, but there was nothing in the room I could use to cut the ties. I was going to have to do it the same way I got out. I did Sophie first; it was so much easier and faster when I could see what I was doing.

“Cheap,” I said as I freed Kevin. “You’d think with such an important job they’d know not to put us against something that could saw through the ties.”

“They didn’t count on you,” said Sophie with a big grin.

I opened the door that led to the staircase and then the alley.

“You’re not going after them, are you?” said Kevin incredulously, rubbing his reddened wrists. That’s what he got for wiggling around and tightening the ties.

“Ortiz bugged my phone. She may have done it to yours too, if you loaned it to her once or left it lying around.”

Their deflated faces told me all I needed to know. “There’s no way to track them, so we have to follow.” I ran down the stairs and was glad to hear Sophie and Kevin following me. I was tired, but I vowed to keep running. I could sleep all day tomorrow. Fear for Mrs. Jennings gave me the boost of adrenaline I needed.

“They weren’t speaking Italian up there,” I said as I clomped down the stairs.

“It was Portuguese,” said Kevin.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. “How do you know?”

He arched a brow. “I work at Edge . World travel. International models. I pay attention.”

Okay, so score one for Kevin.

“I thought Taj was from India,” Sophie said.

“I think that’s what he wants people to think. He could be from anywhere, but I think South America is a fair guess, maybe Brazil,” I added, remembering his comment at the Forte about summering in Brazil as a little kid. Details dropped into place as we ran. If Taj was Brazilian, he’d done a good job of keeping it quiet. This whole operation wasn’t amateur night; he’d hidden his tracks so well he’d thrown everyone off, even the pros. Who would be so bold as to kidnap the American First Lady? A common criminal couldn’t pull it off, but someone with access to the world. And big money. That usually meant drugs. Or weapons. Or fraud of some type.

And then there was that brother, how did he fit in all this?

If you were in my position, I think you might do the same thing.

Blood would be the only reason I would even think about doing something as crazy as this.

Why would Taj tell me anything at all? Could I believe anything he told me? But then why lie about a brother, of all things? Taj had told me things that I knew were true: the hacking skills, not leaving traces, little snippets like having a plan B. Why? Whether I wanted it or not, I was caught up in his scheme. There was no way I would sit back and do nothing.

Huffing heavily, we reached the alley. There was the barest hint of a red scrape on the ground by the door that led down into the tunnels. Chasing Taj and his crew wasn’t the best way to help Mrs. Jennings. After all, they had guns. I should make sure Candace knew what was going on and what she was dealing with, as much as I could tell her.

We exited into the street. A crowd of people, both tourists and locals, shuffled past. No wonder they’d taken the sewer route. Luca and Ortiz could blend into the crowd, but Taj and Mrs. Jennings would be instantly recognizable. Looking around wildly, we crossed in front of the hotel. “Let’s find Candace and—”

I slammed hard into someone who stepped into my path.

Dante!

TRICKS AND TIPS FOR THE EDGE-Y GIRL

A hat for summer? Sure, but make sure you choose one that keeps the sun off your face. Save the beanies for your next ski trip or a snowy day.

29

“Nice dress, bella,” said Dante uncertainly, checking me out, then Sophie and Kevin. What a sight we must be; Sophie in a Creamsicle-colored top and skinny pants, Kevin in his powder blue silk shirt and tan slacks, and me in my pink dress—our clothes grubby with dirt and our shoes wet with sewer water.

“Do you have any idea how glad I am to see you?” I wanted to throw my arms around him but thought better of it. “Wait. What are you doing here?” The timing was disconcerting.

He held up an envelope and frowned. “Delivering a letter. Why are you here? This is—”

“—where Taj is staying,” I finished for him. Of course Dante had to know—this was his delivery area. How often had he bumped into Taj? Did they have confrontations—or meetings—that I didn’t see? I searched Dante’s face. Could I trust him?

It was time for an executive decision.

“Dante—”

“We have to do something urgent,” said Kevin brusquely, and then pulling me aside, added in a lower voice, “He’s a messenger —you can’t just tell him what happened with Mrs. Jennings. The Secret Service—”

“I know we can trust him,” I said firmly. “We need his help.” No one knew about Candace’s real job; I never said anything and I’d only been told after I stumbled upon the meeting in that warehouse. I turned to Dante. “Taj has kidnapped Mrs. Jennings. Ortiz is helping him. He has at least one guy with him, but there may be more.”