Compact with the Devil: A Novel Read online

  That stopped the conversation.

  “Voges set Cano up with some mercenaries, some guns, and a bomb,” Jane said, reiterating.

  “Ah, crap,” said Ellen. “How big of a bomb?”

  “Pretty big,” replied Jane, looking worried.

  “It’s got to be the awards show,” said Nikki. “He’s going to blow the whole thing. He said there would be a movement and that must be what he’s trying to do—make his first statement.”

  “I’m confused,” said Jenny. “I thought this Cano guy just wanted to kill Camille and her family. And I’m still not sure why he wanted to do that …”

  “Well, back in the day, Camille married Declan, Kit’s father, and got him to quit the IRA, and at the same time the IRA stopped associating with Cano. Cano blamed Camille for the separation and when Declan arranged a sort of peace summit, Cano tried to kill both of them. Camille thought Duncan, Declan’s brother, had betrayed them to Cano and blamed him for Declan’s death, so she told him to stay away from Kit. But he really wasn’t to blame, so he came back and has been secretly working as Kit’s bodyguard for the last five years. Meanwhile, Cano thinks all of them betrayed the revolutionary cause, so he wants to kill Kit to get revenge on Camille and make a terrorist statement. And then he wants to kill Duncan and Camille, you know, just to kill them.”

  There was silence in the cab.

  “This is better than One Life to Live! Why didn’t you call me earlier?” exclaimed Ellen. “We’ve been running training missions and sitting on our asses in Colombia. And you know I can’t understand a damn word of their soap operas!”

  The girls burst out laughing.

  “That’s what you do when you go on vacation, isn’t it?” asked Jenny. “You lock yourself in your apartment and watch all the soap operas.”

  “Actually, I usually go visit my daughters. And I mean, I love my grandchildren, but after the twentieth poopy diaper, shooting people starts to sound like a wonderful idea. My eldest daughter actually said the words ‘It must be so exciting for you to get out of the house.’”

  “What do they think you do?”

  “I don’t know. It’s possible they think I sit at home waiting for them to call.”

  “Don’t they notice that you’re never home when they call?”

  “Well, I tell them I screen my calls and the messages get forwarded to me, so I just call them back from wherever.”

  “You mean they don’t know you’re out of the country?” asked Nikki, slightly shocked. It had never occurred to her to not tell Nell where she was going.

  “I don’t think so.” Ellen shrugged. “It’s one of the benefits of living four states away. They don’t usually pop ’round for a visit unexpectedly.”

  “I hope I’m as cool as you when I grow up,” said Jenny, and Ellen chuckled.

  “Well, you’re a long way from that, but we’re getting distracted from the point.”

  “Yes,” said Jenny, “the point is that you should call us much earlier when you’re having this much fun.”

  “Actually,” said Ellen, “I think the point was that you were going to tell us the plan.”

  “Right,” said Jane, “the plan.”

  Nikki looked at their expectant faces and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She probably should have figured that out on the cab ride to the airport.

  “The plan … right. I was going to tell you the plan.” Nikki racked her brain. “Well, the plan is …”

  PARIS XV

  Assault on the Opera

  “Do you really think this is going to work?” asked Ellen. The four women stood at the foot of the broad stairs that led up to the Paris opera house.

  “Well, since Kit isn’t answering his phone and security is refusing to let me in, it’s pretty much going to have to work,” replied Nikki. “Besides, it’s a concert. Universal laws apply. There’s bound to be a scalper. As long as we have cash, then someone will have tickets.”

  “Uh,” said Jane, clearing her throat, “does anyone actually have cash? I’ve got a few Euros, but I didn’t stop at the cash machine before I left. Kind of hard with the car chase and what-not.”

  “I’ve got about seventy-five,” said Jenny.

  “Me too,” said Ellen.

  “You guys!” said Nikki. “That’s going to get us about one ticket.” Nikki sighed and adjusted her plan. “OK, one of us goes in the front. The rest of us will find some other way in.”

  “Aren’t you like Mrs. Kit Masters now? Can’t you just walk us into the back?” asked Jenny, sounding annoyed.

  “I told you, the regular tour guys aren’t working this. I don’t know any of the crew here.”

  “Who gets the ticket?” asked Jane, skipping the argument and moving to the pertinent question.

  “Ellen,” said Jenny and Nikki at the same time.

  “Right,” agreed Ellen. “Ante up, girls.” Ellen held out her hand, and Nikki handed over the remains of her fifty-five euros. Jane chipped in fifty in bills and a handful more in coins, and Jenny handed over her seventy-five. Ellen pushed the money into one uniform stack. “All right, off you go.” Ellen waved them away and climbed the stairs toward the door.

  “Why Ellen?” asked Jane as they walked away.

  “The mom factor,” replied Jenny. “She gets away with a lot just by looking like someone who gives good hugs and knows where they keep the comfort food. She can talk her way past people we’d have to club over the head.”

  “But we’re pretty girls!” declared Jane, shocked.

  “Moms trump pretty girls every time,” answered Nikki, leading them down the sidewalk toward the artists’ entrance. “Everyone knows pretty girls can be evil.” She stared at the roped-off area, waiting fans, bustling delivery vans, and security guys. “So that’s where we want to be.”

  “Well, that is just going to be about as easy as skinning a frog.”

  “I can’t tell if that was sarcasm,” said Jane. “I don’t know how hard it is to skin frogs.”

  “I think I recognize those security guys from this morning; they might remember me,” said Nikki.

  “But they won’t remember either of us,” said Jenny.

  “What are you thinking? Deliveries or security?”

  “Catering,” said Jenny, and Nikki nodded. “I’ll take Jane with me.”

  “Take Jane where?” asked Jane. “I’m confused. What are we catering?”

  “It’s a surprise,” said Jenny, smiling her beauty-queen smile.

  “Just go with her, Jane,” said Nikki. “I’ll meet you at the door in ten?” Jenny was already nodding her agreement as she walked away. Jane trailed behind, casting a lost look over her shoulder. Nikki began to work her way through the crowd of fans toward the security gate. The crowd was packed thick and was about equal parts girls and boys. The fans of various artists had grouped together. The Kit Masters fans wore devil’s horns and seemed to be bullying the Craig David fans.

  She was nearly to the door when she saw Biter heading her way. Nikki ducked her head, but it was too late; the teenager was already waving vigorously.

  “Nikki!” exclaimed the English girl, drawing near. “We were looking for you! Gladys said you’d be here.” She turned and waved to someone else in the crowd; Vampirella and Tubby hurried over.

  “Kind of in a hurry here, girls,” said Nikki, sparing a minute to marvel that Vampirella’s real name was Gladys. No wonder the poor girl wore so much makeup.

  “We know!” said Gladys, taking over. “And we were on our way in, but then …”

  “But then what?” asked Nikki, suddenly afraid.

  “Those men. The ones who were chasing you. We saw them go inside. We tried to warn security, but they just laughed at us and said they were with Kit Masters’s private security force. Which is absolutely ridiculous!” the girl exclaimed, sounding outraged. “Anyone who knows anything about Kit knows he only travels with one bodyguard. He doesn’t want a whole squad!” She sniffed in fierce disappr
oval.

  “Do you have the tour pass with you?” asked Nikki, focusing on her immediate issue. Biter flashed the tour pass briefly from her pocket, keeping it mostly covered and looking around nervously. Through the fence, Nikki could see Jenny wearing a burgundy catering jacket and pushing a heavy cart toward the entrance.

  “All right, give me the pass.” A security guard was making a beeline for Jenny as she wheeled the cart up the ramp. “And as soon as I’m at the gate, do you think you two can start a ruckus?”

  “What sort of ruckus?” asked Sandy.

  “Anything big that’ll draw attention.” Tanya looked nervous, but Gladys nodded.

  “No problem.”

  “Great. Leave your names and numbers at the ticket office. I’ll make sure that you guys get tickets for this, I promise.”

  “We just want Kit to be safe,” said Sandy proudly.

  “Me too,” said Nikki, but she was privately amazed at the girl’s fervent love for someone she’d never met. She draped the pass over her neck and approached the gate.

  “Hey,” she said, flashing the pass at the guard. “Let me in. I do makeup for Kit Masters.”

  “I’ll bet you do something for …” the guard started to say, eyeing her short skirt. Behind him Nikki could see Jenny arguing with another guard.

  “Craig David does not sing better than Kit Masters!” screamed Biter from somewhere back in the crowd. There was an immediate uproar as the Kit Masters fans went after the Craig David faction.

  “Ah hell,” said the security guard. “Inside quick,” he added, waving Nikki inside the gate. The other security guards were running toward the fence. Outside the fence the Craig David fans were taking a pummeling; she saw Tanya, Gladys, and Sandy sprinting away and smiled. She was going to have to get all their names and put them on the Carrie Mae watch list. Those girls had potential.

  Jenny was pushing her cart into the building as fast as possible. Nikki caught up to her and held open the door. They found a deserted hallway and parked the cart.

  “OK, out you come,” said Jenny, sliding open the cart panel. Jane peered out, swaddled in her down coat. She had been packed into the cart like breakable china in bubble wrap.

  “I think I’m going to need some help,” said Jane. Nikki pulled on Jane’s lapels until she burst forth onto the floor.

  “Mazel tov,” said Jenny. “Quick, smack her on the bottom.”

  “We are infiltrating a highly secured facility,” said Jane primly. “I hardly think now is the time to be making jokes.”

  “Well, I’d hate to break with tradition,” said Nikki. “Come on, we don’t have much time. Cano’s already inside.”

  “How’d you find that out?” asked Jane, shouldering her bag.

  “Same way I started that riot out front. Girl power.”

  Jane made a face, and even Jenny winced a bit.

  “I hate that slogan. It’s so incredibly lame, and it reduces us all to some sort of unadult status. We are women, damn it. spokeswoman our power implies that it is a lesser power.” Jane straightened her coat with an irritated jerk.

  “Jeez, read many self-help books lately?” asked Jenny.

  Nikki interrupted before Jane could reply. “Actually, these really are girls. Fans of Kit’s. Got my clothes from them.”

  “So they all hate you is what you’re saying?” asked Jenny.

  “Don’t start,” said Nikki, punching the button for the elevator. “Besides,” she said taking off her hat and fluffing her hair in the reflective panel of the door, “they thought I looked cool.”

  “You do,” said Jane. “You don’t think she looks good?” she asked, turning to Jenny as the elevator closed them inside its echoing belly.

  “I don’t think we have time to discuss fashion,” said Jenny. “We are infiltrating a highly secured facility …” Her voice trailed off as the elevator slowed and then stopped. The elevator went black and then after a moment, the backup lights came on with a flickering fluorescent hum.

  “That’s not a good sign,” said Jane.

  “I agree,” murmured Jenny.

  “Well, it’s nice to know we all agree on something,” said Nikki.

  They all watched the ceiling intently, as if they could somehow see up the elevator shaft. After a moment, Jenny got up on the side rails and popped open the elevator hatch, pulling herself easily out into the elevator shaft. Nikki and Jane heard a bit of stomping around, and then Jenny’s face appeared in the hole. Her soft blond hair fell forward into the elevator and swung gently around her face, tantalizing in its randomness, like some sort of willful cat toy.

  “We’re about two floors down from where we need to be, but there’s a ladder. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Good,” said Nikki, nodding. “Jane, up you go.”

  “Uh,” said Jane, “I think I might need a boost.” Jenny sighed and stopped just short of an eye roll. Nikki made no comment but simply cupped her hands for Jane to step into.

  “Give me your hand,” commanded Jenny, reaching down.

  Nikki heaved upward as Jane stepped into her hands and Jenny reached down, grasping Jane’s arms and pulling upward. There was a brief scramble at the edge of the hatch, and Jane’s feet disappeared into the darkness.

  “Your turn, Nikki,” said Jenny, looking in. Nikki tossed up Jane’s bag, which Jenny neatly caught. Nikki jumped upward and caught the edge of the hatch. Hanging for a moment on the edge, Nikki wondered, briefly, why pull-ups never seemed to get any easier.

  “Will someone tell me why I seem to spend half my life dangling off things?” asked Nikki, managing to pull herself onto the roof of the elevator and still keep her knees together.

  “Hardly half,” answered Jane. “It’s probably less than one half of one percent.”

  “Thank you, Jane,” said Nikki sarcastically.

  “It just seems like half when you’re hanging there,” said Jenny distractedly, looking up the elevator shaft. “What do you think, Nikki?”

  “I think it seems like forever when I’m hanging there.”

  “No, I mean what about the elevator? Did it break or was it jammed?”

  “Oh.” Nikki looked at the cable and brakes. “No, the way the power went out? I think it was turned off.”

  “Why would someone turn off the elevator?” asked Jane.

  “To make it more difficult for people to get up or down when something goes wrong.”

  “Well, we’d better hurry if we want to be in the nick of time; let’s get moving. After you, chief,” said Jenny, gesturing to the ladder set into the wall of the elevator shaft.

  “Er, no,” said Nikki. Jane and Jenny stared at her. “I think I should go last.” Nikki tried to pull her skirt down a little lower.

  “O-kay,” said Jenny, pulling out the syllables. There was more staring and Nikki broke under the pressure.

  “I’m not wearing any underwear, OK!”

  “In that skirt?” asked Jane, shocked. Jenny snickered.

  “I didn’t plan it this way,” responded Nikki, outraged. “I just got caught—”

  “With your pants down?” interjected Jenny.

  Nikki sighed. “Coming out of the shower,” said Nikki, finishing her sentence. “There were these guys with guns in the hotel room. They chased me out of the hotel. I had to swap the girls a tour pass for some clothes.”

  “Why were guys with guns in your hotel room?” asked Jane.

  “When are guys with guns not in her hotel room?” said Jenny.

  “It wasn’t my hotel room,” said Nikki impatiently. “It was Kit’s. They were there to kill him.”

  “She was naked in the rock star’s hotel room,” said Jenny, looking significantly at Jane.

  “She was using his shower,” answered Jane with a nod.

  “Oh for God’s sake!” shouted Nikki, and then ducked as the echo reverberated around their heads. “Will one of you just climb the damn ladder?” she whispered.

  Jenny grinned impude
ntly and started up the ladder.

  “Dudda-da-dum,” said Jane, giving a shimmy and singing the opening bars to “The Stripper.” Jenny giggled and Nikki sighed.

  “My friends,” muttered Nikki. “My very dear friends.”

  PARIS XVI

  Fork in the Road

  “Ah crap,” said Nikki, pulling herself through the heavy, wedged-open elevator doors. Down the hall she saw Duncan run past.

  “The dressing rooms are up that way,” she said, pointing to the right. “Jenny, go find Kit and the band. Get them the hell out of Dodge if you can. Jane, go find the control booth and get the elevator turned back on. I’m going after Duncan. I’ll catch up with you.” She was already running as she spoke.

  “Duncan!” she yelled, catching a glimpse of him ducking down a hallway that led up to the offices.

  “Duncan!” she yelled again, rounding the corner and slamming into his back. They both stumbled and caught their balance. Then Nikki saw the reason for his abrupt halt. Camille was waiting for them, a gun in one black-leather-gloved hand. She was wearing a beautiful black suit and mile-high stilettos. Her makeup managed to hit just the right note between mystery woman and all business. She looked exactly how Nikki knew she ought to look.

  “Ah crap,” said Nikki again. Duncan didn’t say anything but shot her a look of frowning disapproval. Apparently, “ah crap” lacked appreciation for the emotional drama playing out before her.

  “Nikki,” snarled Camille. “I should have known you were responsible for this mess!”

  “We don’t have time for this,” snapped Nikki.

  “What did you do, Matthew?” hissed Camille. “Betray Kit to Cano, just like you did your brother?”

  “I did not betray Declan,” said Duncan evenly. “Why won’t you believe that Declan went to Cano on his own?”

  “Liar!” shouted Camille.

  “Dude, we do not have time for this. Kit is in danger.” Nikki knew it was a gratuitous use of Surfer Dude, but Camille, with her perfect British accent and perfect lady-spy outfit, made her feel Keanu-ish.

  “Don’t have time?” repeated Camille, the gun never wavering in her hand. “Like you care about Kit. You used him for bait. I read Astriz’s preliminary report. You were waiting for Cano to take another shot at him!” Nikki noticed that under the perfect application of what had to be false eyelashes, she looked pale and pinched. “I should have known.” Disgust dripped from her voice. “Partners follow partners. You’re a traitor, just like Valerie Robinson.”