Voices shouted, but before the men could take action, a loud blast obliterated all other sounds. A wave of heat washed over Rif’s head, burning his ears. He kept sprinting, zigzagging to make himself a hard target. He reached the forest line, two bullets punching into a tree right next to him. The near miss spurred him on, his legs pumping like pistons, his boots pounding against the forest floor.
He ran east, trying to determine the most direct path back to the hotel. Sweat soaked his shirt, and dust caked his skin. He had to reach Thea before it was too late.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Gabrielle paced the hotel room, speaking on the phone to her lead analyst, Ernest. He had news about the Ares connection.
“I intercepted another communication regarding that end-user certificate. The content and originating location made me take a closer look.” Ernest’s voice was staccato—he always sounded like a machine gun on full auto when he had hit pay dirt.
“Tell me more.”
“The message came from Victoria Falls. It mentioned that Belgian company we’ve previously linked to Ares.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Not exactly a lot of traffic to decipher compared with, say, a place like New York City. Since you suspected the Kanzi negotiations were related to the kidnapper’s larger mission, we’ve been monitoring all the chatter about it.”
“So Ares is here?”
“Probably. And it’s possible that Christos Paris could be held captive nearby. If Ares is behind the kidnapping and somehow enmeshed in the oil negotiations, he might want access to his hostage and the insider information Christos could offer. I had the team build a geographic dossier of Victoria Falls. They’re monitoring the usual sources: satellite imagery, economic reports, and unusual traffic at transportation hubs. If we get any solid intel, we’ll call in a team to help you unearth the hostage.”
“I think we’re on to something. Report any further transmissions immediately.” She pressed the end button and spun around at the sound of the door opening.
“Good news?” Max stood on the threshold of their adjoining rooms.
“Potentially. It seems likely that Ares is here. The problem is, no one can ever describe the arms dealer; it’s like he—or she, for that matter—doesn’t really exist.”
“My friend in Harare told me Interpol has been trying to track Ares for eleven years and has no hint as to his identity.” Max entered the room and plunked down in the Queen Anne chair.
“Then why have we received two strong leads about him in a few days?”
“Perhaps he is distracted?”
“Possibly. Or maybe he’s decided to come out of hiding for some reason.”
“To make an entrance?” he asked.
“Our analysts have studied Ares’s deals. He has this David-and-Goliath penchant, always selling to the underdog, even if he makes less money. That tells me he has a mission, a cause.”
“We all do, no?”
She studied Max’s face. “Yes, I guess we do. I wanted the truth behind my parents’ deaths, but the Lebanese police gave me the runaround.”
“Don’t ever give up searching. For us, our families, our experiences . . . the pain scars us forever.” His face was hidden in the shadows, but she could feel his anguish.
“What’s wrong? Is it Laila—is she not doing well?”
He didn’t answer.
“Max, you can talk to me.”
He stood and kissed her gently on the lips. “I know. You are the one person I trust.”
But instead of opening up, he told her he had to make a call.
After he left, she texted Ernest, asking for a status update on Max’s half sister. The inspector general was getting under her skin, and she really wanted to find out more about him. As soon as she fired off the text, she regretted it. One night—that was her rule. Don’t get emotionally involved. But maybe it was already too late for that.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Thea shifted in her seat. The Chinese had finally exhausted every last excruciating argument about why their company was the only choice to handle the Kanzi oil rights. Most of it was spin, of course, but she was more interested in the players in the room, watching their faces for tells, looking for anyone behaving in an unusual way.
“Ms. Paris, we’ll be able to fit in your opening remarks before the break,” Prime Minister Kimweri said.
“Thank you. I’ll say a few words before our COO Ahmed Khali takes over.”
Nikos leaned over and whispered to her. “I believe in you.”
The panel members’ eyes had a glazed look. Even the prime minister seemed weary from the endless monologue. Time to shake things up. She stepped forward, then turned slightly so she was facing both the dignitaries and the crowd.
“My name is Thea Paris, and Paris Industries was built by my father, Christos Paris.”
She paused.
Quan Chi’s eyebrows rose an inch. Xi-Ping squinted. Nikos smiled at her.
“Although it is true that China has long held vital interests in this region, when you’re deciding who you, your children, and your grandchildren would like to work with for the next hundred years, please remember that my father has been deeply and directly involved in Kanzi for nearly forty years.”