Page 69 of Belgian Betrayal

“Roger,” Hank responded. “We’ll cover out here.”

Fearghas walked across the ballroom floor when he would rather have run. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, but damn. Where was she?

Dread settled like a heavy weight in the pit of his belly.

Please, let her be all right.

Chapter 17

After placing all the mini surveillance cameras around the ballroom, Catya focused her attention on the attendees. Over the past twenty-four hours, she’d looked up many of the guests in an attempt to memorize their faces so that when she ran into them at the party, she’d recognize them.

She wanted to see who they mingled with, who they shook hands with and who they met with over drinks.

Walter Sykes appeared in the ballroom without Ace’s announcement. Although, if he’d been in charge of the security surrounding the estate, he would have come much earlier to get set up and assign his people to different locations.

But then, why would MI6 provide the security for a private party? Wouldn’t Stanhope have to pay out of his own pocket to protect his home?

Catya kept Sykes in view, observing who he talked with and how long he spent. He made his way around the room, speaking with dignitaries from various countries in short bursts, then moving on quickly.

Catya recognized the Vice President of Mozambique, Antonio Barros, as the one Sykes spoke with at that moment.

Once Sykes moved on, Barros set his drink glass on a tray and headed for the door in the side of the ballroom.

Earlier, one of the wait staff had mentioned to Catya that the toilets could be found through that door. Still, a niggling sense of urgency made her turn to Dmytro. “I’m going to the toilet.”

He nodded and rubbed his stomach. “I will be here.”

As Catya walked away, a man walked up to Dmytro, talking about recipes.

Catya held back a smile.

Dmytro didn’t cook. Being questioned about the ingredients he used in certain recipes would be an entirely new level of hell for him.

Sykes had disappeared into the shadows of the doorway.

When Catya stepped through, she looked both ways and saw nothing. The bathrooms were further down the hallway. Barro couldn’t have gotten there that quickly. Yet, Barro had disappeared. Footsteps on stairs echoed in the hallway leading upward.

Catya followed the sound to what appeared to be a built-in display shelf with a variety of decorative vases and statuettes placed several inches apart on each level. The sound of footsteps came from behind the unit.

Catya leaned against the structure. It didn’t move. She touched one of the vases and tried to move it, only to realize it was glued to the wood. She tried moving a statue. It tipped forward, and the entire unit swung inward, exposing a secret passage and a set of wooden stairs.

Catya gathered the hem of her dress, flung it over her arm, ducked low and crossed into the secret room.

Voices sounded from one of the bathrooms down the hallway, and a door swung open.

Quickly, before she was seen, Catya pushed the door closed. As soon as the unit was back in place, a light blinked on overhead.

Catya stood very still as two women talked and laughed as they passed by, completely unaware of the secret passage.

The footsteps that had led her to this point had faded into silence.

Curious about where the steps led, Catya crept upward, placing each foot carefully so as not to make a sound.

At the top of the staircase was a long, tunnel-like hallway that lit up when she stepped into it, illuminating a dark wooden door at the very end. Catya glanced down the stairs.

She should go back to Dmytro and let him know about the hidden staircase and the disappearing vice president of Mozambique.

After taking one step downward, she froze. The shelf-unit door slowly swung inward. Joaquin Guzmán ducked his head and stepped into the secret room, followed by two more men Catya recognized as dignitaries from Lebanon, Yemen and Sudan.

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