Secrets by Nancy Popovich

had dealt with both pain and midnight
ops before. She changed into black pants, turtleneck and cardigan.
In a drawer of the bureau, she found a balaclava and stuck it
inside her sling, beside the gun already resident there. It could
come in handy, she presumed. On impulse, she reached into the
drawer and pulled out another balaclava. Sonya’s blonde hair would
glow like a beacon in the dark, which would put them all in
danger.
     
    “That’s exactly
what the monitors recorded,” Maurice reported. “The only contact
points that were compromised are those two bedroom doors. “We
move?”
    “Yes. Advise
the others, we move in fifteen minutes or less,” BB ordered,
already dressed in black, he stowed his handgun into its shoulder
holster and covered it with a lightweight windbreaker.
    “I sent Steven
to back his car into the driveway. Those are the car keys that I
gave to Lise. I don’t want her to go, but she overruled me. If
Sonya insists on going, Lise insists that she will have protection
and experience on her side. It is difficult to argue with Lise once
her mind has been made up.”
    Maurice shook
his head. “She is quite the woman, Lise, non ?”
    “Quite the
woman, indeed. But an injured one, nonetheless. I pity the men that
caught her by surprise if she spies them. No doubt she inflicted
some injuries of her own at the time that she was attacked, which
is likely why she was injured. Even injured, she will deal them
physical distress if she sees them again. It might be entertaining
to watch. Just because she is retired does not mean that she is not
effective,” BB smiled somewhat proudly.
    “Oh, by the
way, I cannot stop Mike from joining our little party tonight. He
is insisting, so Steve is instructing him. He has sworn to follow
orders and stay out of the way. We cannot leave him here alone, he
will just try to follow and screw things up. It is best to keep him
close at hand. I shall get him and Sonya out of the way
soonest.”
    “I had a call
from our Slovenian friend a few minutes ago. Apparently, there is a
shipment in the basement of the art department that we need to
check out, rumoured to be Crusaders. By the way, do not be
surprised if Igor shows up. We do owe him.”
    Maurice’s
eyebrows shot up as he holstered his gun. “Why is he interest
enough to share information?”
    “I suspect that
Steve asked for his assistance. Igor owes him and John Toth from
the Azores incident. Despite the fact that he really does not like
many people, Igor has readily admitted that he does like the Toths.
I am not certain if he knows anything about my relationship in the
mix, but Igor’s information can usually be relied upon. Ready?”
Maurice nodded. “Let us roll!”
    A soft knock,
barely heard, caused Sonya to start. She opened the door
cautiously. Madame Lalonde was standing in the hallway, all
in black and looking rather chic for an injured woman. Using her
good arm, she beckoned Sonya to follow her.
    Immediately,
they quietly descended the stairs. Madame Lalonde led the way to a
side door, sliding something plastic over a spot near the top of
the door, ushered them through, closed the door and pulled the
piece of plastic away. It was a credit card! Sonya’s brow furrowed,
but Madame Lalonde placed her fingers to her lips and
Sonya’s question went unasked.
    Handing her car
keys, Madame Lalonde pointed to Steve’s car, sitting
innocently on the driveway. Sonya unlocked it, helped to ease Madame Lalonde into the passenger side and then took the
driver’s seat. It was a sweet little stick shift, and Sonya felt
right at home. The engine purred quietly when she started it,
shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. She didn’t
turn on the headlights until they were well clear of BB’s
house.
    “She handles a
stick shift rather well,” Steve remarked to Mike, sitting behind
him on the motorcycle. Both were clad in black and wearing
windbreakers. When the women were far enough away, Steve