The Exchange: After The Firm

Chapter 45

Hassan listened intently for a moment, then put his phone on the table. He poured himself more tea and asked, “For you?”

“No thanks.” She had taken one sip. She doubted she would ever want another cup of tea.

Hassan removed another phone from another pocket and stared at the screen. Minutes passed slowly. He sipped even more deliberately. Finally, his first phone buzzed softly. He suppressed a smile, gathered both phones, and said, “The money has arrived. A pleasure doing business, Mrs. McDeere. I’ve never had a lovelier adversary.”

“Sure. Whatever. A real pleasure.”

He stood and said, “I’ll go now. It’s best if you wait a moment before leaving.”

In a split second he was gone. He stepped between two hanging rugs on the other side of the room and vanished. Abby waited, counted to ten, got to her feet, listened silently, then said, “Giovanna. Are you there?”

There was no answer.

Abby yanked open the rugs and froze in horror.

“Giovanna!” she yelled. “Giovanna!” She pulled at other hanging rugs looking for another room, another exit, but found nothing. She stood and gawked at the empty chair, the empty room, and felt like screaming. But she couldn’t hesitate. She had to find Giovanna and she couldn’t be far away.

Abby managed to slip through more rugs and find the cramped passageway. She hurried through it and back to the cobblestone street where she stopped and looked around at thousands of people wandering in all directions. The vast majority were men in long robes of various colors, but white was dominant. At first glance she did not see a single woman robed in black.

Which way to go? Where to turn? She had never been so lost in her life. It was hopeless. She saw the top of the dome of a mosque and remembered passing near it earlier. Going toward it made as much sense as anything else.

She had lost the money and she had lost Giovanna. It was surreal, impossible to believe, and she had no idea what to do next. As she drifted with the crowd she realized she had to call Mitch. Perhaps he could stop the wire, get the money back, but she knew the truth.

A man was screaming at her, a wild-eyed, red-faced lunatic ranting in another language, angry at her for some reason. He blocked her path and stepped closer and stumbled. She realized he was drunk, but he did not stop his tirade. She turned to her right and picked up her pace. He stumbled again, then fell hard. She got away from him but was rattled even more. She kept moving, and when she saw a small group of people who were obviously tourists she kept close to them. They were Dutch, with neat backpacks and hiking boots. She followed along for a few moments as she tried to collect her thoughts. The Dutch found an outdoor café and decided to take a coffee break. Abby found a table nearby and tried to ignore them. She also tried to settle her nerves but realized she was crying.

Her nearest ally was Cory. With the green phone she called him and he answered immediately. “Where are you?” he snapped, obviously wired.

“In the medina, close to the mosque. Where are you?”

“Hell if I know. I’m trying to find my colleagues. We’re close by, I think.”

“They’re watching you?”

“What?”

“Listen to me, Cory. The money has been wired and Giovanna has disappeared, again.”

“Shit!”

“I’m afraid so. I saw her for a second and she is alive. At least she was moments ago. Mitch completed the wire, then she vanished. I blew it, Cory. She’s gone.”

“Are you okay, Abby?”

“Yes. Please come find me. I’m at an outdoor café near a row of stalls selling leather goods.”

“Go to the Mouassine Mosque, the nearest one. There is a fountain on the north side. I’ll find you there.”

“Got it.” Where the hell was north?

She walked across a crowded plaza and saw the dome in the distance. It was not as close as she thought.

A familiar sound rang in her bag and she realized she had forgotten about the Jakl. She stopped next to a stall selling cheese and looked at the Jakl. Of course they were still following her. It was Noura.

“Yes,” Abby said.

“Listen to me, Abby. Turn to your left and walk past the large souk with brown pottery. Do you see it?”

“Where are you, Noura?”

“I’m here, watching you. Do you see the brown pottery?”

“Yes. I’m walking that way. Where’s Giovanna, Noura?”

“In the medina. Stay on the phone. Next you’ll see the small plaza with a row of donkey carts. Walk toward them.”

“I am, I am.”

Noura materialized from thin air and was beside Abby. “Just keep walking,” she said and put her phone away. Abby returned hers to her bag. She glanced at Noura, who looked exactly as she had when they first met in the coffee shop a month earlier. Her face was completely veiled, her eyes barely visible. She wondered if it was the same person and realized there was no way to know. However, her voice sounded familiar.

“What’s going on, Noura?”

“You will see.”

“Is Giovanna okay? Tell me nothing has happened to her.”

“You will see.”

They walked past the donkey carts and onto a residential street that was quieter and slightly less crowded. A smaller mosque, Sidi Ishak, was in front of them.

“Stop here,” Noura said. “To the right of the mosque, on the corner there, is a tiny souk for coffee and tea. Go inside.”

Noura abruptly turned and walked away. Abby hurried down the street, past the mosque and into the store. In a corner, partially hidden, was Giovanna Sandroni, wearing the same jeans, jacket, and hiking boots she had worn the day she was abducted. She grabbed Abby and they embraced tightly and for a long time. The shopkeeper eyed them suspiciously but said nothing.

They stepped outside and onto the street. Abby called Cory, gave him the news, then called Mitch.

“Are we safe?” Giovanna asked as they walked back to the market.

“Yes, Giovanna, we are safe. And we’re taking you to Rome. The airplane is waiting. Do you need anything?”

“No. Just food.”

“We have food.”

Abby glanced at an alley behind a row of stalls selling fruits and vegetables. A cardboard box was half filled with rotten produce and other garbage. She took a few steps toward it and dropped the Jakl into the mess.