Page 29 of France Face-Off
“If she is responsible for the deaths of the mercenaries and the double agent, she could be highly dangerous. And she might be the one targeting the Russians.”
“She didn’t stab Anatoly,” Striker said.
“Maybe not, but she could be working with someone else.”
“If she was behind the assassinations of the mercenaries and the double agent, it appears she might be after those responsible for killing her parents. What do Anatoly Petrov and Sergei Baranovsky have in common with her parents or the people she has targeted?”
“Anatoly was the double agent’s boss.”
Alex had said she didn’t want to kill Anatoly, that she needed him. “Is it possible Anatoly knows who might have put a hit out on her parents?”
“Anything’s possible in the Russian government. Sometimes, it’s a free-for-all with every man looking out for himself,” Lucie said. “Many of the key leaders are also involved with the mafia. My main concern is that you watch Ms. Sokolov but be careful. If she knows you’re following her, she could become a threat.”
Striker laughed. “I’ve been keeping a close eye on her. In fact, after the attack last night, I had her stay in my room.”
A moment of silence followed, then Lucie said, “I know. Just be careful. She’s tougher than you might think. Especially if she was able to eliminate trained mercenaries. Do you have any questions?”
“About a hundred,” he said, “but all for Ms. Sokolov.”
“It’s up to you whether you want her to know that you’re on to her.”
“Thank you for the leeway to make that decision,” he said.
“Keep me informed.”
“Roger,” Striker said.
“Out here,” Lucie said.
Striker pulled the earbuds out of his ears. His first instinct was to throw them across the room.
Alex? An assassin?
He’d known she was more than just an interpreter. But an assassin? He’d only been kidding when he’d accused her of being one. Then again, his gut might have been working harder than his gray matter. With hours to kill until the summit meetings adjourned for the evening meal, Striker went online, searching for anything about the Federovs and the Sokolovs. It was as if their existence had been wiped clean from the web.
Lucie had access to a lot more databases than he did, and she had the skills and knowledge to find them. He still didn’t know much about Lucie and what her ultimate goal was, but he had signed on with her operation. He prayed she was one of the good guys.
The hours passed slowly. He left his room to find a hot cup of coffee and sat in the ornate lobby of the Hotel Le Negresco, watching people as they walked by. Occasionally, one of the summit attendees emerged from the conference to take a phone call. They didn’t stay long, returning to the discussion as quickly as possible.
When four o’clock finally rolled around, the doors to the conference center opened, and people flowed out, talking heatedly. Some went directly to the elevators. Others stood in the lobby discussing the day’s topics in various languages.
When the German delegate emerged, Striker’s pulse quickened. Not long after, Alex walked out. Her gaze scanned the lobby until it landed on him. Her eyes widened, and a smile touched her lips. Then she looked away and headed for the elevator.
Striker took the stairs to the third floor, climbing them two at a time.
He eased open the stairwell door and spotted Alex heading toward him.
Once through the door, she stepped into his arms.
He automatically opened them and held her close, a hundred thoughts blazing through his head. Number one was the fact she’d walked straight into his embrace.
He should have been thinking about the possibility of her being an assassin and that she’d killed a number of men.
But the scent of her hair and the way her body melted into his pushed all of that out of his mind for the brief moment she wrapped her arms around his waist.
Finally, she pulled back, her cheeks bright pink, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I must be tired.”
“Come on.” He took her hand and led her up the stairs to the fifth floor. He checked the hallway, waited for a man to enter his room, and then hurried her toward his.
