Page 62 of The Phoenix

Mak bit his lip and relapsed into thoughtful silence. If Cameron was right, and Athena was already lining up supporters and an escape plan from her present hideout, then the time to act was now. Fortune favored the bold and, although Mak wasn’t bold enough to take Athena on directly (he knew enough of his former master’s wife to be deeply afraid of her and her capacity for vengeance), he also wasn’t about to roll over like a puppy while she waltzed in and took what was his. What he’d earned.

‘How about this?’

Leaning forward, Mak outlined a plan while his fixer listened intently. It was risky, certainly. But it wasn’t impossible. Saying it out loud lifted his spirits. For the first time in days, Makis Alexiadis began to wonder if there might just be a chink of light at the end of the tunnel.

While Makis and Cameron plotted strategy, at the foot of the cliffs a man stood still as a statue watching every movement up at Villa Mirage, just as he had for the last two days. He knew every delivery truck that went in or out, and the times of every household servant’s arrival in the morning and departure at night. He knew the timers on the pool lights and the morning and evening routine of the master of the house. When he took his shower; had his morning coffee; exercised; ate dinner; made love; slept. He learned the rhythms of the house like a loyal dog, memorizing the movements of its master, anticipating his every need.

And he waited.

Mark Redmayne smiled magnanimously as Gabriel approached his breakfast table

.

‘Please. Sit.’

The two men had never warmed to one another. Redmayne found The Group’s star agent rude and challenging to the point of insubordination, while Gabriel considered his boss to be an arrogant, card-carrying narcissist, and about as trustworthy as a snake-oil salesman at a con artist’s convention. This morning, however, Redmayne at least was in a forgiving mood.

For one thing he was in Paris, and staying at his favorite hotel in the world, the Georges V. A serendipitous business conference had offered him a cast-iron excuse to come to Europe and check up on The Group’s various ongoing missions there. For another thing, his wife, Veronica, had decided to stay in the Hamptons this time around, leaving Mark free to enjoy all that Paris, and specifically the girls at the Crazy Horse, had to offer. But best of all, after a shaky start, Ella Praeger had finally broken her duck last night and intercepted some priceless information. If the stars were aligned, the girl might lead them directly to Athena Petridis.

Taking the seat opposite his boss, Gabriel was immediately provided with a fresh cup of the finest Peruvian coffee.

‘Are you hungry?’ Redmayne asked. ‘The avocado toast is incredible.’

‘No,’ Gabriel replied, employing all of his customary charm and tact.

Redmayne stiffened. ‘Suit yourself. To business, then?’

‘I assume you’ve seen the intel?’

‘I have.’ Redmayne smiled broadly. ‘I knew we were right to send her in there. The stuff she’s been intercepting from inside that villa? Gold dust.’ He took another satisfying bite of his own breakfast. ‘Could this “Elena” be her? Could she be Athena?’

‘It’s not impossible,’ admitted Gabriel.

Redmayne frowned. ‘Well what are the alternatives? In your view,’ he added pointedly.

‘She could be a close associate. A go-between,’ said Gabriel, not entirely convincingly.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Redmayne. ‘The location would have been perfect for Athena all these years: remote and secure. Plus Ella’s been intercepting communications between Alexiadis and multiple close associates that suggest “Elena” is much more than just a “go-between”. She’s clearly a vitally important figure within the Petridis organization. Ella’s intercepts also suggest a borderline obsessional interest in this “Elena” on Makis’s part. All of that points to Athena herself.’

‘Like I said, it’s possible,’ Gabriel admitted grudgingly. ‘Ella’s also picked up web activity indicating that Mak’s been researching various access routes to the convent on Sikinos, including tidal patterns.’

‘A surprising level of effort and direct involvement for a man of his importance if it isn’t Athena,’ Redmayne pointed out.

‘True,’ Gabriel nodded. ‘But, we won’t know until we know.’

‘Exactly,’ said Redmayne. ‘Which is why we need an agent in that convent. How soon can Ella be extricated from Mykonos?’

‘Ella?’ Gabriel scowled into his coffee. ‘Ella’s not the best operative for the job, sir. She’s far too inexperienced.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d say she’s done pretty well so far, wouldn’t you?’ Redmayne brushed the crumbs from his lips with a linen napkin.

‘Yes, sir. But her work on Mykonos was different.’

‘I don’t see how.’

‘It was intelligence gathering,’ said Gabriel, through gritted teeth.

‘So is this,’ said Redmayne. ‘We send her in, she takes one of those “mental photographs” of hers that Professor Dixon keeps waxing lyrical about, confirms Sister Elena’s identity and leaves.’

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