90

I lay on the bank until I found strength enough to get to my feet. I walked to the stables. The guards were gone, either to the hospital or to the main house, I guessed. I headed back into the complex.

I checked all the computers; all the hard drives were gone, all the backup drives, the strange drives for the chips. The chips were gone as well.

I checked my shoe. The chip I’d taken was still there.

Edward had put a chip in the gun before he’d shot Yasmin. So the chips somehow worked with the guns. The bizarre gun that shot Yasmin when it was directly aimed at me. The gun that shared a strange metal grid with the bomb that had killed the Money Czar back in Amsterdam.

I got into the delivery truck and drove to the empty plane hangar. No sign of Mila.

He’d taken Mila, because he wanted to know who was after him.

I drove down to the canal. I drove past where I’d climbed out from it and about another half mile I found Yasmin’s body. I waded into the water and I pulled her free from a thickness of rushes. I picked up Yasmin’s body and carried her to the truck. I wasn’t exactly crazy about the idea of driving back to London, with no license in my name, in a stolen delivery truck, with a corpse in the back. But I couldn’t leave her body.

The gun that had killed Yasmin had not been like anything I’d ever seen before. I wanted to see the bullets.

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