“All right,” Cyrah said. “We remain in data-gathering and planning mode, but the situation has definitely taken a turn in the right direction. Let me know if there’s anything you need from me. Until then, I’m going to pull back.”
They disconnected and Cyrah began searching for a jagged rock large enough to break apart the phone. After spending a little extra effort on the SIM card, she scattered the individual pieces in the brush.
Over the short time Legion had been operational, they’d used everything from apparent heart attacks to private plane crashes to complete their contracts. Their most creative moment thus far was death by stampede. A Russian oligarch obsessed with the American Old West had created a massive cattle ranch in Belarus and liked to walk alone through his herd. Unfortunately, this was a shockingly safe activity. She’d had to hide among the irritatingly docile creatures, hit him in the skull with a weapon built in the shape of a cow hoof, and then coax them with food to walk over him. And that turned out to be the easy part. Actually starting the stampede that was necessary to make it look natural had been the real challenge. As it turned out, his cows had an extraordinary tolerance for being shot with a pellet rifle. The ones she’d experimented on in Finland had been quite a bit more skittish. How was she to know there was variation between breeds?
Even compared to her foray into bovine psychology, though, this operation was hopelessly complex. The deadly Mitch Burhan with his likely connections to the Central Intelligence Agency. The cunning Claudia Gould. The presence of the American surveillance team. Everywhere she looked, there were threats.
The mist had condensed to the point that Cyrah was starting to hear the muffled slap of individual drops. She folded her arms across her chest, looking out across the lonely plain. Whatever happened with Claudia Gould, there wouldn’t be many more days like this one. Yasmin was already making subtle hints that she wanted out. The draw of a normal life—husband, children, friends—was powerful to her. It always had been.
And on the day she logged off, so would Legion. Cyrah would find herself alone for the first time in her life. Unmoored from the sisters she loved, the challenges she craved, and the excitement she had become addicted to.
What then?
CHAPTER 31
NEAR FRANSCHHOEK
SOUTH AFRICA
RAPP followed the new woman of the house to their safe room and joined Bebe inside. Some construction materials had found their way under the table, but everyone still managed to sit. Sadie was close enough that her shoulder pressed against Rapp’s and she patted him on the leg affectionately. Scooting away wasn’t an option because there was nowhere to go.
“I’ve swept the entire house,” Bebe started, her fleshy body squeezed into the facing chair. “It’s clean. My guess is that Legion and the Americans didn’t expect you to come back. The place is a disaster.”
Sadie stiffened and responded in the French accent that never slipped. “That seems kind of negative.”
She was doing a good job of filling out a pair of Claudia’s jeans with the weight she’d gained. They were a little short, but the flowing white blouse she’d found in the closet fit perfectly.
“I don’t think Bebe meant—” Rapp started, but she cut him off.
“It may not look like much now, but when the renovations are done, it’s going to be amazing.”
Bebe’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t otherwise acknowledge that the woman had spoken. “As you know, this room is soundproof at conversational levels, and I’ve disconnected all the electronics from their power sources. Also, I installed new secure hardware for the network and changed all the passwords. I think it’s unlikely anyone could have tapped in, but better safe than sorry. The bottom line is that I’m confident we can talk freely in here.”
Rapp nodded. “Where Legion is concerned, there are no precautions I consider overkill. We don’t understand their capabilities, resources, or operating history. Irene’s pretty comfortable attributing four hits to them, but it’s almost certain there are more. These aren’t people who come at you with guns blazing. They’re people who release a shark when you’re swimming in the ocean or swap out your blood pressure medication for sugar pills and wait for you to have a stroke. Even with our eyes wide open, there’s a good chance we won’t see them coming.”
“They’re incredible,” Sadie said. “No pattern at all. Everything they do is bespoke. Tailored perfectly to their target. And the fact that they can use double-blind protocols for anonymity is proof. How good do you have to be to get people to send two million euros to an anonymous email account that will be shut down the day the money’s transferred?”