“As long as he does what we instruct him to, you’re gonna be OK.” Frank Skinner ripped a piece of tape from the roll and applied it to Sasha’s lower back, securing the tracking device against her spine near the waist.
The room they were in was warm, dim, and smelled like rotten eggs. She stared at a stack of plain boxes that stretched floor to ceiling. The walls had the remains of the glue that had once held wallpaper.
“You know the trouble you’re going to be in when this is all said and done?” She turned her head far enough to make eye contact. His grin was enough to tell her he had no plans on being caught. Did that mean he was never returning to DC? She doubted that. If anyone was never going home, it was her.
He applied another piece of tape to her back and then pulled her shirt back down, tucking it into her waistband. She wanted to say something about his fingers traveling further inside her pants than necessary, but figured he’d get off on hearing her complain.
“Why not just kill me now?” She pulled away and spun around to face him.
“No one is gonna kill you if that big oaf does his—”
“Cut the crap, Skinner. I’ve been in this business long enough to know that we can’t coexist after this.”
He hiked his shoulders an inch into the air as if to say why not. “Sure we can. You’re a grown woman who is more than capable of keeping her mouth shut. My friends can make it worth your while to do so.”
“Even if I agreed,” she said, watching his reaction closely, “Bear would not. He’d rather dip the money in a vat of acid and eat it than spend it.”
Frank laughed. “You obviously don’t know him very well. I can’t begin to tell you the things I’ve seen that man do for far less than what we can offer to keep your mouths shut.”
“It’ll never happen.”
Frank’s demeanor changed. He reached behind his back and pulled out his concealed handgun and aimed it at her head, cautiously keeping a few feet of distance between them. He knew Sasha had field experience. Their paths had crossed before when both were younger.
“OK,” he said. “If you want to die I can make that happen now.”
Slivers of light cut across his arm and the pistol. The weapon was ready to fire. If he was bluffing she hoped he had a steady finger.
Ahlberg entered the room wearing a knit dress that stopped above her knee. A tattoo peeked out. She stared at Sasha. “Not yet, Frank. We need her alive for a little bit longer.”
Frank returned his sidearm to its holster then walked over to Ahlberg. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her in. As they kissed, Ahlberg’s fingers tightened into a fist around Frank’s short hair.
“I’ve missed you,” Ahlberg said after pulling away a few inches.
Frank released her and gestured toward the door. “He’s nearby.”
“I know. I passed him in the hallway.” The smile on her face made Sasha feel that Awad might join her in a shallow grave later that day.
“Let’s stick to the plan, OK? Soon he and your sister will be out of the way and you’ll be in Washington with me.”
“What about her?” Ahlberg jutted her narrow chin at Sasha.
“No, she can’t come with us.” He smiled at both of them. “Unless you want her to?”
“She just heard everything we said. Perhaps we should rid ourselves of her?”
“As you said a moment ago, we still need her if we’re going to get Logan to take the fall for the hit.”
Katrine Ahlberg looked disappointed as she left the room. Was it an act?
“No hard feelings,” Frank said.
Sasha parted the blinds with her thumb and forefinger and stared out the window at the French flag dancing in the breeze. She contemplated that this was how she would spend the last minutes of her life.