Chapter 3

THREE

Biblioteca Nationala a Romaniei

1945 hours

“Audio check.” Meg adjusted her earpiece and mic. “Testing one-two-three.”

“Coming in loud and sort of clear, Black Swan One,” Del responded, his voice both reassuring and annoying in her ear. She’d hoped never to hear it again, but sinners in hell wanted ice water, too. “I’m picking up background noise. Can you confirm? Over.”

Mother Nature was dumping a monsoon on the city. Even the best technology couldn’t eliminate the din of the lashing rain and wind as Meg stood on the sidewalk in front of the towering concrete and glass building in front of her.

At least the storm had drenched the uprising at the embassy and sent all but the truly hardcore protestors scurrying. They’d be back as soon as the fast-moving deluge was over, and that meant Meg had to hurry, downpour or not.

“Confirmed, storm in the area. Visual check.” She squeezed her eyes tight, activating the contacts from the ‘survival kit’ before opening them again. Eagle Eyes, as they were called, not only sharpened her vision but allowed Langley to see what she focused on. She pointedly looked at the Biblioteca Nationala’s sign ten floors above her. “Can you read?”

Rain hit her in the face, and she blinked. She was soaked, cold, and hungry. With any luck, she could get in and out of the embassy before Declan and Spence touched down.

Flynn would kill her for going in alone, but he would also praise her if she managed to get the red bag. It wasn’t necessarily the color red, it was simply a designation of utmost importance and the highest in classified intel.

A gruff voice superseded Del’s. “Why the hell am I looking at the library, Swan One?”

Flynn. He hated it when she went off script. Well, she had a few questions for him, too. “Why don’t you have one of the trapped State Department kids bring you the drive?”

“I trust no one but you. I repeat, why are you not at the appointed site?”

While initially gaining Flynn’s trust hadn’t been easy, it was no compliment that he was now putting the mission’s success in her hands. Regardless that the president had reactivated the division, bottom line, he believed she was his best resource to get the job done. Or perhaps, the most expendable one. “I’ll stroll through the protestors right up to the front gate and demand they let me enter. I’m sure that will work.” She snorted, the sound lost in the downpour. “Besides, getting in is one thing; getting out securely with the package is another.”

“Which is why your team will be assisting.” The irritation in his voice made her smile. “Get your ass to the embassy.”

Thanks to budget cuts and an ongoing war between the House and Senate, the place had been short-staffed. Most activities had been put on hold until funding was appropriated again, making the place ripe for an invasion.

Eastern Europe was already on edge over the Russian chess game going on with the Ukrainians, and plenty of militants and fascists were happy to rile folks up. Even the US Marine Security Guardsmen and Diplomatic Security Service had been caught off guard. They, too, were understaffed at the moment, thanks to tensions in more volatile areas.

“If you trust me, let me do my job.” What she needed was an in, an asset who knew the language, the culture, the people. The Poli?ia Roman? had been called in to assist with controlling the crowd, but watching the news, she’d seen little to indicate any of them cared. Half of them were probably in Mosai Hagar’s pockets. “Over and out.”

Jogging across the expanse to the giant entry doors, she muted her mic. She would allow them to see who she was recruiting but not let them hear what needed to be said.

Inside, her shoes squeaked on the marble floor and the sound echoed up, up, up to the ceiling high overhead as she made her way to the escalators. The spirited rain lashed at the tall windows, but the hush in here was deep and comforting, as if this was the calm center of the storm.

As she rode the escalator, she spotted a lone figure at a desk on the second-floor veranda. He paid no attention to her, and she pretended to ignore him while logging his height, weight, and potential weapons.

Old habits died hard.

Her target was shelving a few volumes in a designated area containing a collection of materials on topics covering US culture and lifestyle. The American Corners program had been instituted as a partnership program between the US Embassy and the library, to provide information, programs, and exhibits to further positive relations.

Contessa Vulpe, known as The Architect to those in Flynn’s Army, had adopted the look of a nondescript librarian—her rich brown hair was pulled into a tidy bun, oversized glasses sat on her nose, a simple pleated skirt disguised her generous hips—but as her name suggested, she was both a countess and a fox. The former label she’d done her damnedest to escape, but the latter she embraced wholeheartedly. She spoke without turning, her hearing as sharp as ever. “May I help you?” She repeated the question in Romanian, her accent—a good one—thicker as her tongue flowed over the words.

Meg brushed a wet strand from her cheek. “I hope so.”

Tessa’s hand stilled in mid-air, the book suspended for a heartbeat before she finished sliding it between two other volumes. She didn’t turn but lowered her voice to a low growl. “What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

Taking a step closer, Meg surveyed the area. Discreet cameras blended into the corners of the large expanse, and probably more were hidden in the overhead lights. There was no reason to bug the library, however. “I need your expertise. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t critical to saving a life.”

“I can’t help you.” Continuing to avoid her eyes, Tessa turned to her cart and pushed it down the row. “I don’t do that anymore. We’re about to close. You should leave.”

“Tommy’s missing. Could be a kidnapping, or could be he’s…” Dead. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

This brought Tessa’s attention, finally, to Meg. “I’m sorry to hear that. What does that have to do with me?”

Good thing she couldn’t hear Flynn over the earpiece. At the sight of Tessa, Meg imagined he was having a coronary. “I need to get into the embassy. Tonight.”

Never taking her focus from Meg, she positioned the cart between them, removing a book from the lower shelf. She held it to her chest. “That isn’t an answer. How did you find me?”

Meg had no doubt there was a small but accurate pistol hidden in the book. “I keep an eye on my enemies.”

Her lips twitched. “And your friends?”

A low blow. Meg fought not to break eye contact and reveal her soft spot. “I’m not here to discuss what happened to Jessie. I need to get into the embassy undetected. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

Tessa snorted. “Perhaps if you and your government paid more attention to your so-called friends, the chaos at the embassy wouldn’t have happened.” Placing the book in reach, she chose another from the cart and examined it. “Why can’t you walk in the front door?”

Another dig, and it probably had layers of meaning, but Meg didn’t have time to dissect them, nor did she care. “It’s your government, too, and I know they had you design a backdoor into the place when it was built. Service tunnels, secret entrances, hidden passageways. Show me the plans, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You think I keep such things here? What, I have them tattooed on my ass?” Her dark brown eyes flashed from behind the thick lenses of her glasses. “Go to hell and take whoever sent you. Get out of my library.”

“No one sent me. This is all me. Hagar is watching. He’s the one stirring this up. You’re my only hope to get in and out without him knowing.” She didn’t want to divulge everything, but… “I suspect Tommy stumbled over something damning, and Hagar knows it. That intel is buried inside the embassy. My mission is to retrieve it.”

“Easy job. You don’t need me.” But her eyes told a different story. The fox was curious. She loved a challenge. More so if she would outwit a terrorist with her skills. “Even if I could help, why would I? You let her die.”

Bad blood ran deep. Too many years ago, Jessie had been Tessa’s star pupil at The Farm when Meg and Jessie were in training. Tactical stealth entries and exits had been taken to an entirely new level with the fox. “Her death is on me. I’ve never claimed otherwise, and you have no reason to believe I have your back, but it’s not an easy job, and you know it. I can’t trust anyone else.”

A thin eyebrow rose. The fox wanted more, and although she’d never admit it, she, herself, had a backdoor—her heart.

Give her a reason to take the bait. “I’m only doing this for Jessie,” Meg admitted. That much was true. “And Tommy. I can’t ever make it right, but I can make Hagar pay. My team will assist, but I have to watch their backs as well. It’s all on me. I need to get in and out as quickly as possible.”

Endless seconds passed. Tessa returned to shelving, purposely making Meg sweat. “No,” she finally said. “I won’t help you.”

Damn . Meg buried her frustrated sigh. She’d known it was a long shot. “I understand.” Truth was, she did. She wished she’d stuck to her guns with Flynn. “I’m sorry I bothered you. Have a good life working in this Romanian library, where your skills and talents are going to waste.”

With that, she turned, a brief feeling of satisfaction at Tessa’s gasp making her lips quirk. I’ll figure it out. I’ll find another way .

“I said I won’t help you ,” Tessa called. “I never said I wouldn’t help Declan and Spencer.”

Meg pinched her lips together, keeping the triumphant grin off her face as she stopped and faced the woman. Declan was good for something, after all. “They’ll meet us.”

Tessa shoved the cart away, grabbing the book with the gun. She reached for the back of her bun, and her hair cascaded over her shoulders. She removed the glasses and headed for the escalator. “Let’s go then. They need me.”