Page 35 of Vienna Bargain

“The emails were too similar for it to be a coincidence. Not when she is the only active case we have for you.”

Alexander closed his eyes, letting the words sink in.

“She’s working for someone with resources,” Alexander concluded.

“Not top level resources, as both those attempts were clumsy. Surprising considering the level of tech she had.”

“Then perhaps the tech is her own, and without her, the people she’s working for don’t have someone with the right skills.”

“That’s what I thought also.” Zakaria sighed. “It means that you can’t let her anywhere near a computer. Even a phone would be dangerous.”

“Do you have anything else on who she is?”

“Some. Her digital footprint was scrubbed by the U.S. Secret Service.”

Alexander frowned at the bookcase. “Not the C.I.A.” The clumsy attempt to get info ruled them out.

“No. It looks like Magdalena Moreau is the bastard daughter of a U.S. senator named Augustin Moreau.”

“He did it to hide the fact that she is his daughter?”

“Possibly. There are some other possibilities too. We reached out to a U.S. colleague and they’re hoping to locate paper copies of school and employment records.”

“Let me know what you find.”

“I will. If you answer your phone.”

“Fine.”

“But, Alexander…” Now Zakaria hesitated. “Right now my men are facilitating you committing a very serious crime. Don’t put them, or me, in that position.”

“I have committed no crime.” He spoke each word clearly. “I gave Alena a choice. Prison or three weeks with me.”

“And what are you doing to her, during that time?”

Alexander didn’t reply.

“Bring her back to Vienna. Let my people handle turning her over to the police, or at least keep her in our custody. We have facilities for it. I know you’re worried about the fallout if the data breach is made public.”

This conversation was a painful verbalization of the thoughts that had kept him awake last night.

“Find out who she is,” Alexander ordered.

“Bring her back,” Zakaria countered. “The people she works with, or for… they’re looking for her. You might be in danger.”

“She is my concern,” Alexander said coldly. “You track down her associates.”

“Alexander—”

He ended the call, then very carefully set the phone aside. Rising from his chair, Alexander walked to the bookcase.

It was time to check on his slave.

She’d made a mistake.

Alena spread her toes then set them firmly on the concrete and imagined rooting herself in place as she shifted from warrior one to warrior two. Doing yoga gave her a physical outlet for the anxiety humming through her, but it did nothing to stop the internal debates.

Every train of thought brought her back to that single truth.

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