As soon as the boat we commissioned hits the shores of America I am going straight home to look for Wallace. I no longer care about obeying my orders since there aren’t any.
—The diary of Megan Jean
Anger and rage filled Mia. She was so unsure whom to direct it at. Maybe Affinity, who had made it out like Mia was a valuable part of the mission, or Zack, whose idea this was, or Andrew, who had convinced her to go along with Zack’s method of transporting her. She decided all of them deserved her ire. The vehicle they were in stopped moving. The sound of the wind had died down and Mia could hear again. She wished she could see where they were, but hiding in a burlap bag did not afford her that luxury.
“Your rooms are ready,” an unfamiliar voice said. “You will wash up and change, then be at Madame Martineau’s in the morning.”
Mia found the man’s accent enchanting. His voice was light and it was almost as if he sang his words. Mia wondered if she was going to get smuggled into the hotel still inside this sack. Whoever was there to let her out would feel her rage. She felt a hand grab the bag.
“No,” the man said. “Leave the cargo.”
Mia cringed. She was being referred to as property.
“This cargo stays with me,” Andrew said.
This situation could not get more degrading.
“It is nonnegotiable,” the man said. “Madame Martineau expects the cargo for dinner.”
Mia wasn’t sure if that meant their next host wanted to eat with Mia or thought she was getting a special food delivery.
“Everything will be fine,” Zack said.
The hand on Mia’s bag let go.
“Don’t be scared,” Andrew said in a whisper. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”
Truthfully, Mia wasn’t scared. She was annoyed. Everyone piled out of whatever type of vehicle they were in and Mia was alone. She heard the driver walk around to his door and they took off. More than anything Mia wanted to climb out of the bag and feel the wind blow across her face, but since Andrew had explained the situation with the army officer she knew it was a dumb idea. Instead she let out a sigh and stayed in the sack, feeling as useful as a piece of fruit.
The vehicle started to slow down. Mia heard her driver open the car door and walk around toward the back.
“You’re still in there?” he asked. “I thought you would have crawled out by now.”
Mia took that as her cue and burst her hands through the tiny opening. The man laughed and Mia took a big gulp of fresh air.
“I suppose it was best you stayed cautious,” he said. “But a woman traveling alone or at all won’t bring much suspicion in this country. Come, I’ll help you down.”
Mia was in the bed of a truck, but it was low to the ground and had wooden sides. Not like the big ones she’d seen in America or the military vehicles Affinity possessed. Since she’d learned how to drive, cars held a new fascination for Mia. She stood up and walked to the man, who helped her down.
They were in the back of a beautiful house. Mia looked around the gardens, which were gigantic. She saw a wall bordering the property and sculptures and fountains placed around the area.
“What is this place?”
“This is the garage,” he said. “Employee quarters as well.”
“Am I posing as a servant?”
He let out a laugh.
“I’ll walk you to the main house,” he said. “Madame Martineau is eager to make your acquaintance.”
“Who is she?”
“The prime minister of France,” he said. “This is the estate of whoever holds that title.”
Mia looked around at all the splendor. The buildings looked timeless. She and her escort walked along a path surrounded by beautiful flowers. In the distance she saw the home that must have belonged to the prime minister. It was a giant stone house and matched every other aspect of the property in its beauty. Mia had never thought a place so grand existed.
“What is your name?” Mia asked.
“Albin Fabre,” he said. “I am one of Madame Martineau’s advisers. How was your journey?”
There were so many words to describe Mia’s trip—“awful,” “confusing,” “boring,” “agitating”—but Mia didn’t want to respond with any of those choices.
“Fine, thank you,” she said.
“You are a very brave woman,” he said.
Mia looked up at him and he smiled back at her, nodding his head.
“I’m sure Madame Martineau will want to tell you most of the details about the next leg, but rest assured we all support you here.”
While Mia was eager to learn what her future held, her main concern at this point was that she had a hand in it, or at least some control. They approached the large house and a person walked out to greet them.
It was an older woman; she had short blond hair and wore a fitted dress that showed off her toned arms. She held them open and walked toward Mia, giving her a kiss on each cheek.
“Welcome to France,” she said. “My name is Florence Martineau. Please, call me Flo.”
Two other women standing behind her came forward and each kissed Mia on her cheeks. Flo wrapped her arm around Mia’s shoulders and guided her up the steps.
“I am certain you are filled with questions,” she said. “And exhausted from your travels. But I will give you the choice; what is the first thing you would like to do here?”
“Shower,” Mia said. “I smell.”
Both of her companions let out a laugh.
“Yes,” Albin said. “They hid her in a sack used for seafood.”
“Ick,” Flo said. “Fille de poisson.”
Flo and Albin laughed again. Mia looked wide eyed around the entry room. The entire house looked like it was made of gold and the ceiling was decorated with one of the most elaborate paintings she’d ever seen.
“Albin will show you to your room and get you set up,” Flo said. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” Mia said.
“Would you like food brought to you or do you want to dine with me?”
The idea of sitting alone again was too much for Mia. It was as if Flo could read her mind since she didn’t wait for Mia to respond.
“We will give you an hour to freshen up,” she said. “I will see you after that.”
She bowed her head and went into the giant house.
“I think you will love your accommodations,” Albin said. “Please follow me.”
“I’m only here a week, right?” Mia said. “Then back to America?”
“Shhh,” Albin said. “Don’t speak of those things so openly. Not everyone present is familiar with the plans. You can speak openly with me in private; I will be accompanying Madame Martineau as her escort.”
Mia nodded and realized her mistake in getting too comfortable too soon. She kept her mouth shut the rest of the time they walked through the great house. Albin stopped in front of a door and opened it up.
The room was pale blue, with a large bed and a dresser set. The ceiling was painted in a similar manner to the entrance. There were painted children seated among clouds with rings over their heads. It was breathtaking. Albin walked to the far side of the room and opened a door.
“Here is the bathroom,” he said. “There is clothing in the closet and everything you should need.”
“Should I wait for you to come get me?” Mia asked.
“You don’t have to,” Albin said. “The whole house and grounds are open to you. But finding the dining room may be tricky. I’ll come just to show you where it is.”
“Thank you,” Mia said.
Albin nodded and left the room. Mia was used to entering foreign lands. But this one seemed far different from the others. She didn’t know what a prime minister was, or how Flo fit into the grand scheme, but Mia knew that things were about to change.