Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Trap

The street was quiet.

No cars. No pedestrians. Just the soft hum of the harbor in the distance and the flicker of a street lamp that needed replacing. Dana and Marcus had already entered the restaurant through the back. Leo was in the alley. Sloane was in the car. Adrian stood beside me. We waited.

At eight forty-seven, Claude Fournier walked around the corner.

He was smaller than his photograph. Thinner. He walked with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched, like a man who had spent years expecting a bullet. He didn't look at us. He didn't look at anyone. He just walked to the restaurant door and went inside.

"Target acquired," Dana said through the earpiece.

I didn't respond. I just watched.

---

We waited twenty minutes.

No Volkov. No movement. Just Claude at his table, ordering his usual meal, reading a newspaper that he didn't turn the pages of. Dana was at the bar. Marcus was by the window. Leo was in the alley. Everyone was in position.

At nine fifteen, Claude stood up. He paid his bill in cash. He walked to the door.

"He's leaving," Dana said.

"Follow him," I said.

Claude walked out of the restaurant and turned left. He walked slowly. Deliberately. He didn't look behind him. He didn't check his phone. He just walked.

Dana and Marcus followed at a distance. Leo moved to the parallel street. Sloane started the car.

Adrian and I stayed where we were. Waiting.

Then the earpiece crackled.

"Volkov," Leo said. "He's here."

I turned. A black car had pulled up at the other end of the street. Two men got out. Then a third. Tall. Gray coat. Andrei Volkov.

He didn't look at us. He didn't need to. He walked to the restaurant door and went inside.

"He's inside," Dana said. "He's sitting at Claude's table."

"Where's Claude?" I asked.

"He's walking. He's heading toward the harbor."

"Then we split. Marcus, stay on Volkov. Dana, follow Claude. Leo, move to the harbor."

"Copy."

I looked at Adrian. He looked at me.

"Volkov is here," I said.

"I know."

"He's not supposed to be here. Claude was supposed to wait for him at the restaurant. He left early."

"Which means Volkov knew we were watching."

I didn't respond. I didn't need to.

---

We moved to the harbor.

The walk was short. Five minutes. Claude was ahead of us, walking along the water. The lights from the boats flickered on the surface. The wind was cold.

Dana was behind him. Marcus was behind her. Leo was ahead, circling around. Sloane was in the car, following at a distance. Adrian and I were behind them all.

Then Claude stopped.

He turned. He looked at us. He didn't look surprised.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," he said.

I didn't respond. I just looked at him.

"You're Elena Voss," he said. "I've heard a lot about you."

"And you're Claude Fournier. You've been helping Volkov for years."

He nodded. He didn't deny it.

"He's not coming," Claude said. "He knows you're here. He knows you've been watching. He sent me to distract you."

"Then where is he?"

"On a plane. On his way to South America. He has a safe house there. He'll be gone by morning."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"You're lying," I said.

"I'm not."

"Then why are you still here?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Because I'm tired. I'm tired of running. I'm tired of hiding. I'm tired of working for a man who would kill me as soon as look at me."

I studied him. His hands were steady. His eyes were tired. He was telling the truth.

"You want to help us," I said.

"I want to stop him. There's a difference."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Then tell me where he's going."

He reached into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to me.

"An address. A safe house. In Argentina. He's been planning this for months. He has money there. Connections. A new identity."

I opened the paper. I read the address. I looked at Adrian. He looked at me.

"We need to move," I said.

"We can't. He's already in the air. By the time we get to Argentina, he'll be gone."

I looked at Claude. He looked at me.

"There's another way," he said.

"What?"

"He has a partner. A man in Buenos Aires. Someone who handles his accounts. Someone who knows where he's going. If you get to him first, you can cut off Volkov's money. His connections. Everything."

"Who?"

"His name is Ricardo Alvarez. He runs a bank in the city. He's been working with Volkov for ten years."

I looked at Adrian. He looked at me.

"Then we go to Buenos Aires," I said.

---

We left Claude with Leo and Sloane.

Dana and Marcus stayed in Marseille to clean up. Felix arranged a plane. We were in the air within two hours.

I sat by the window. Adrian sat across from me. He didn't speak. He didn't reach for me. He just sat there.

I looked at the paper Claude had given me. The address. The name. Ricardo Alvarez.

"We're going to get him," Adrian said.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"I know," I said.

He didn't respond. He just looked at me.

"We're going to finish this," he said.

"Yes."

He reached for my hand. He took it. His fingers were warm. Steady.

I didn't lean my head against his shoulder. I didn't close my eyes. I just sat there. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't need anything else.