The Treasures of Saint Germain

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Drake finished his coffee before elaborating. “Forget Sabrina. Forget Webb. We have a crew of fanatics shooting up the Barcelona Motor Show. They’re gonna need to be neutralized.”

Hayden paused and then sighed. “Crap, I guess you’re right. The cultists will be following Webb wherever he goes, but the head of the snake? I don’t think so.”

“Nah, that’ll be sunning itself in Dubai,” Drake lamented. “Of all places.”

“So we split the team. One half to Zurich; one to Dubai.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Drake stared around, not voicing the disquieting thought that the team was pretty much split already. Professionalism stood foremost in their minds though.

“Drake, Mai, Alicia, Beau,” Hayden said, “should head off to Dubai. The others to Zurich. And Drake, we need to keep Dubai under the radar. All of it.”

Drake nodded. “Understood.”

Mai watched Hayden. “You said ‘we’. Are you joining us?”

Hayden quickly checked her emails. “It will be a good change, I think.”

“And me?” Kenzie asked. “I mean, Dahl and I usually stick together but…”

The Swede winced. “Not by bloody choice, believe me.”

Kenzie looked hurt. “I’m not sure I wanna be stuck with the B team. Even if Beach Runner is a part of it.”

An already beleaguered group took stock of her words. A month ago they’d have been laughed off, but now Kinimaka gave Hayden woeful eyes and Smyth glared at Beau. “Maybe we should change places, bro.”

Hayden rubbed her temples. “I need Lauren with Sabrina and you watching them both, Smyth. Mano, man up. And Kenzie, if you want to be part of this team you have to stop causing contention.”

“It’s just natural, boss. I’m not sure I know how.”

Hayden motioned to Drake. “Seriously though, I can’t stress how important it is to keep a low profile. The last thing we need is a brush with the UAE.”

“We’ll be careful, Hayden,” he said. “All of us. Hey guys, take it easy. We’ll meet you in Zurich.” He started to walk away.

Dahl looked worried. “Drake?” he said.

“Yeah?” The Yorkshireman turned, pleased that the Swede cared.

“Don’t fuck it up.”