There was no way Zoe could write her way out of this one, so she’d go to the embassy. She’d turn herself in. She’d tell her story and get some help. The CIA could get Alex back. The intelligence services of the world could deal with Kozlov.
Maybe if she was lucky, they’d let her enter the witness protection program—get a whole new life because, the truth was, she wasn’t in a hurry to remember her old one.
But the closer the cab got to the embassy, the more the little voice in the back of her head began to whisper—like someone talking through your favorite movie, intent on ruining the kissy parts.
With every second, the voice got louder, asking, Then why didn’t Alex hand over the disk? And How did you get the bank card? And What were you doing in Paris?
Zoe could see the gates on the next block, the flags. The marines. Oh, how she wanted to run toward the marines, but the voice was right there, saying, Then why doesn’t Alex trust the CIA?
And Zoe could no longer ignore the fact that, if Sawyer being bad were the answer, then she shouldn’t still have so many questions.
He’d told her not to trust him. Not to believe him. He’d called himself a liar so many times that a tiny, traitorous part of her heart had to wonder if maybe Sawyer hadn’t been lying about everything—just the big things. Like who he was and why he was putting up with her and whether or not she could actually pull off leather pants.
“Hey, lady,” the driver said from the front seat. “You have euro?”
Yes. Cash. Of course. She’d promised half up front and half when they got here, so she leaned forward and dug into her jacket pocket.
And that’s when she felt the envelope.
And that’s when she remembered the second box.
And that’s why Zoe sat there, staring at her name in her sister’s writing, feeling like maybe she was tempting fate. Alex had given her access to that box in case she died, after all. And Alex was alive.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
There was a small chance that Alex was still alive, and if Alex was alive, then Zoe had to keep her that way!
But how was she supposed to do that? Exactly?
In the next moment, she was ripping open the envelope and pulling out a note. Maybe Alex loved her. Maybe Alex missed her. Maybe Alex wanted Zoe to know that she would never be alone as long as she kept Alex in her heart. Maybe . . .
Z,
A lot of people would kill for this. It’s the only copy. Keep it safe.
—A
Well, that was anticlimactic, Zoe thought just before she tipped the envelope and something fell into her palm and she looked down at—
The flash drive.
For a moment, Zoe thought she must have hit her head again, because she distinctly remembered pulling the drive from Alex’s box. She remembered handing it to Sawyer and—her stomach soured—Sawyer handing it to Kozlov.
But what if Alex made a decoy? What if Kozlov had a fake?
The drive felt like a visceral, living thing as it lay in the palm of Zoe’s hand. Like it was something that could hurt her. Or save her. She wasn’t exactly sure which. But one thing was certain: she wasn’t alone with nothing anymore.
Now, she was alone with everything.
“Lady?” the driver asked as they neared the embassy gates.
There was a billboard across the street—a picture of two mountain peaks rising above the clouds, snow-covered and almost mythical as a long bridge stretched between them like something made of ice, and Zoe thought of all the ways she could fall down.
“Lady?” the man sounded impatient. They were so close to the gates that she could practically see the marines’ eyes.
“Just keep driving,” Zoe said. “Just keep driving.”
*
Two hours, three taxis, and four stops later, Zoe had a cheap motel room, a large assortment of burner phones, two changes of clothes, and a plan. Because Zoe needed to be smart. Zoe needed to be patient. Zoe needed to think . . . like a spy.
But, aside from Alex, there was only one spy of Zoe’s acquaintance. Luckily, she knew just how to reach him.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Him
The sun was almost up by the time they reached the Kozlov compound on Lake Como. Sawyer should have slept in the car, but every time he closed his eyes he saw Zoe disappearing in the darkness. Every time he moved he felt himself reaching for her and coming back with a fistful of empty air. Every time he tried to think, he heard her voice saying I was wrong. You’re exactly like your father.
Which was okay, Sawyer told himself. His father would know what to do.
The lake was still and the compound was silent, but Sawyer knew it wouldn’t last. Kozlov’s top lieutenant was flying in from Moscow with a special, highly encrypted laptop, and once it was there, Kozlov would open the drive and make a copy. And as soon as he no longer needed the drive . . . well . . . then he’d no longer need Alex.