Page 56 of Operation: Silent Angel
“Too long,” Michaela said. Her gaze went back to Yvette. “Don’t be like we were. We almost didn’t let this happen for reasons that I now can’t even remember. A healthy dose of honesty and baring your soul can go a long way.”
“It’s too late,” Yvette said. “He’s gone. That conversation is one for in person, not via text or a phone call, not that I could get ahold of him if I wanted to. He’s gone silent. His phone number is deactivated.” And she wasn’t even sure if it was a discussionshe could initiate. If he didn’t feel the same, she didn’t want to lose what they did have.
“It’s never too late if both parties are still living,” Lambchop said.
“He’s gone dark, Lambchop.”
“The Digital Team could find him, if you want them to.”
Lambchop wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know. Yes, the Digital Team could find him. Shepherd could even easily find out his status with Interpol. Was he burned? “I know he was going back to his Interpol contact, but I’m not sure if that means he went to France.” She sipped her drink.
“Shepherd could make inquiries,” Lambchop said.
“We’ve made plans to meet at Christmas. He’ll turn his phone back on at the beginning of December,” Yvette said. She sipped her drink again, appreciating the burn as it made its way down her throat.
“So you’ll wait until then to have that conversation with him?” Michaela asked.
Yvette shrugged. She really wasn’t sure. “It’s complicated. This wasn’t the right time to have that conversation with him because his future is such an unknown. I’m hoping by Christmas,” she began but paused. By Christmas what? He’d be settled some place and be up to his eyeballs in new challenges, unable to disengage if he wanted to.
“There’s never going to be a perfect time to have this conversation with him, Yvette,” Lambchop said.
“I’m afraid he doesn’t want our relationship to change, and if I ask him to stay, I’ll lose him,” she admitted. “I’ll lose what we have.”
“You’ll never know how he truly feels until you talk to him,” Lambchop said.
***
Mac took the four-forty pm KLM flight out of O’Hare. He liked this flight because it had a two-hour layover in Amsterdam, which was plenty of time for him. Total travel time was eleven hours and thirty-five minutes. He’d slept well when he landed in Lyon, France. He called his Interpol contact after he’d checked into his hotel. He stood at the fifth-story window, overlooking the city. He could see the clear, light blue waters of the Saône River from his room, just a block over.
“Bonjour,” Matheo Allard answered.
“Bonjour, Matheo. It’s Mac.”
There was a moment of silence. “Oui, I’ve been expecting your call. Are you checked into your hotel?”
Of course, they would have had a watch on his passports, both of them. Interpol already knew he was in Lyons. “Yes. Looking out at the Saône River now. Should I come into the office?”
“Non, I’ll meet you at the café. One hour.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
Allard disconnected the call.
Mac stood at the window, gazing out at the city below, evaluating Allard’s words and tone of voice. It wasn’t unusual that Allard would not want him to come into the office. They often met at the café. But there was something in his few words that said more. There was no warm greeting beyond the one word when answering the call, and Allard’s caller ID would have told him who was calling. There was no small talk, such as, how are you today or, did you have a nice flight? There was no preemptive discussion to foreshadow Mac’s status, such as, things are fine or you’re in hot water.
Mac feared this conversation with Allard would be his last. Well, he knew this could have been the ramifications of going after Ruiz. He splashed water on his face and then left the hotel. He’d walk to the café rather than take a taxi. It was a beautiful day, and the exercise would do him good after the long flight.
He arrived at the café twenty minutes early and took a seat at one of the outside tables, with his back against the stone wall. A young woman came over to take his order. “Un café,” he said.
She brought his cup as Allard arrived. Mac stood and offered his hand. Allard shook it and then took a seat, ordering the same beverage. He waited for the server to move away before he spoke. “You shook things up terribly. There are shockwaves still going through all levels at Interpol, in all the offices worldwide. The General Secretariat has questions to answer that he doesn’t have all the answers for.”
“I didn’t shake things up. The fact that you had someone in your ranks protecting Ruiz is what shook things up,” Mac said. “He was a real piece of work in person, by the way. The world is a far safer place with him out of the game.”
Allard shook his head and scowled. “It’s also frowned upon that you brought the Americans into it.”
“They had the resources I needed, given that you’d give me none. Are you even aware of how many people have been identified and will be arrested because of this operation? And money has been seized, which will help pay for more human trafficking operations to be shut down. Matheo, why is this not being celebrated as a win?”
The server approached with Allard’s coffee in a to-go cup, as requested. Once again, he waited for her to get out of hearing range before he spoke. “It is a win, but it has come at a high cost. Ruiz was providing intel to both the American CIA and DEA, as well as to us, on cartels all throughout Latin America.”
