A/N: Thanks to my awesome Beta! This story wouldn't be the same without her.
I'm not at all surprised when Delphine parks the car near the hotel entrance without being told where I'm staying, having decided during the uneventful and silent journey back into town, to simply assume she knows everything. I might be wrong a few times, but at least I won't be caught off guard as often.
I watch her. Her eyes continuously scan the large street, but if the police are still out in force, they're being incredibly subtle about it - not one officer in sight. She's waiting for me to leave and, after a sigh, I exit the car with the briefcase close to my chest. I barely have time to shut the door and she's driving away, tires screeching on the wet pavement.
I walk somewhat fast to the hotel, giving a short head nod to the doorman who opens the door for me to enter and bypass the front desk, going straight to the elevator. I look sideways at the tall, large shouldered man in dark suit with a beard that's long enough to cover his neck who joins me. He presses the button to the floor immediately next to mine and paranoia starts to set in. I clutch the briefcase tightly to my chest, my eyes turned to the display above the door but keeping track of the man's movements.
The pressure in my chest doesn't relax until I'm inside my hotel suite, quickly shedding my coat and shoes, and tossing the damn briefcase onto the loveseat in the middle of the living room.
"Fuck!" I mutter, my breathing rapid, my heart thumping heavily in my chest.
And I fully blame Delphine. Her incessant, alarming warnings causing me to nearly have a fucking panic attack just by walking through the hotel lobby and riding an elevator.
The room's temperature is perfect and I lose my clothes on the way to the bathroom where I turn on the faucet on the generous bathtub, smiling to myself when I find a small basket filled with bath goodies. I pick a black orchid bath bomb, drop it in the filling bathtub, watching the water starting to light turn purple. I think I need to indulge myself after the day I've had.
While I wait for the tub to fill I go to the living room and fish my smartphone out of my coat pocket - it's been quiet all day, which means Daniel hasn't tried to contact me yet. If I weren't so tired, I would try to guess the meaning of his silence - surely he has heard about what happened. Instead I go to the bedroom and stretch over the bed to reach for the cheap phone, unplug it from the charger and replace it with my personal one. As expected there are 18 missed calls, all from the same number - only one person knows this phone exists.
I return the call and, while it's immediately picked up, the person on the other end says nothing, I just hear them breathing, because S is too smart to assume it's me calling after I stayed all day without answering.
"Hi S," I say, trying to sound cheerful.
"Cosima!" Siobhan breathes out. "Where the hell have you been?" After the quick relief comes the scold.
"I left the phone at the hotel, didn't want to carry it with me," I explain, getting up and walking to the bathroom.
"And why are you calling only now?" She asks.
"I was away from the city, trying to lay low for a while," I answer.
"The journalist killed..?" She starts.
"Yep, that's my guy," I cut her off. "Don't worry, I'm safe and as far as I can tell, no one has identified me yet," I quickly assure her.
"Forget about that!" She sounds adamant. "I want you to get back! There's nothing there for you."
"No, I have his notes." I say in a calm voice, dipping my hand on the water to check the temperature and adjusting the cold handle. "I want to try to get in contact with some people before I call it quits."
"Wouldn't the police be doing that too?" S doesn't sound convinced at all.
"I have the only copy," I tell her. "I doubt they can get to these people before I do."
She's quiet for several seconds and I can almost see her displeased frown as she considers my plan. "Okay," she finally says. "Two days, Cosima! If after that you have nothing, I want you back."
"I don't think Daniel would be very pleased with that," I comment, the phone secure between my jaw and shoulder as I take off the rest of my clothes.
"Have you talked with him yet? After what happened, that is."
I put her on speaker, and place the phone on top of the towel draped over the lip of the large, porcelain tub. Next to it goes another towel, meant for me to rest my head on, and I sink into the water, releasing a satisfied groan.
"What are you doing?" Siobhan asks, her tone losing some of the seriousness.
"It's bath time," I chuckle. "And no, I haven't spoken with him yet, in fact he hasn't even tried to reach me." I lay my head back and close my eyes. "Although, I really should. He's paying for all this, after all."
"It's probably a good idea," she says. "Are you going to tell him about the journalist's notes?"
"I think I rather see where those lead me before I decide anything," I respond, my mind starting to lose focus on the conversation. "I don't want to say anything before I know what I have."
"You still haven't read them?" Siobhan voice echoes of the bathroom walls and fills the space.
"Kinda hard since I don't speak Polish," I deadpan. "I'm just looking for names."
She's quiet again and I hear her tapping on computer keys. "I have a guy over there," she says. "He'll help you with the translation. I'll text you his info."
"And we can trust him?" I ask, opening my eyes and turning my head to the phone as if I could see her.
"As much as I'm willing to trust anyone at this point," she says. "But he's been retired for nearly 20 years, so I doubt he's involved in any of this. Last I heard, he lives near the Ukrainian border, so you better get a car."
I nod. "Yes, it might be good to get out of Warsaw for another day."
"Good! Stay safe," she responds quickly. "And take the damn phone with you!"
At this, she disconnects and I sink deeper into the water, my mind swirling as doubts begin to rise, wondering if it was a good idea to keep Delphine's presence hidden from Mrs. S. Sure, this fact only adds to the mistrust we already have about her, but I can't deny the that if it wasn't for her I could've been in severe trouble earlier. So, I decide that, at least for the time being, this was the best course of action.
I linger in the tub for a long while, reheating the water once, and letting the strong fragrance seep into my skin, fill my lungs, and allow my mind to drift. I'm not surprised when it lands on Delphine, and I don't fight it when my memory replays her kisses, her touches. The water hugs my body and it turns into Delphine's hands, Delphine's lips roam my skin, the fragrant steam rises into the air and whispers soft words into my ear I can't translate.
It's the loud ring of the phone next to my head that prevents me from falling asleep. I mutter a low "shit!" and grab the device: a text from S with a "John Calvin" number and GPS coordinates.
I get out and towel myself, heading to the bedroom. Once there, I discard the towel onto a nearby chair and pull back the soft duvet. I drop across the bed and stretch to reach my official phone and enter the coordinates into the GPS app. The address is just outside the rural district of Solina, some 400km away, which translates into over a 6 hours drive. Briefly I consider calling Daniel, but a yawn makes me drop that idea. I pull an incredibly smooth sheet over my body. Sleep comes quickly.
At first it feels like I'm drowning. Breathing is hard but still manageable, I try to move my right arm forward but feel it restrained.
"Cosima..." The whisper in the distance reaches my ears and I try to respond, but I am caught in the empty space between unconsciousness and awareness, somehow trapped in a dream Mrs. S has cut short.
"You need to wake up!"
The voice is clearer, materializes itself. I open my eyes to a weak light slipping between the drapes, and recognize Delphine's curls, her strong jawline and elegant nose in the dimness. She's covering my mouth with the palm of her hand, not forcefully but enough to prevent me from speaking. The other hand firmly holds my right wrist along my body. She must've noticed I'm awake because she relaxes her grip but doesn't let go.
"We need to be quiet," she whispers very close to my face, her voice tense.
I nod my acknowledgement and she finally releases me, straightening her back to tower over me next to the bed.
"What are you doing here?" I ask confused, even as I follow her advice and keep my voice low. "How did you get in?"
"Someone's coming," Delphine says, ignoring my question. "Get your stuff!"
I sit up, the sheet falls and crumbles around my waist as I struggle to regain full awareness. "What are you talking about?"
Her wide gaze falls to my chest briefly before she quickly turns around on her heels and starts to collect the clothes I left scattered throughout the floor when I got in. I roll my eyes and throw back the sheet, reaching for the phone in the nightstand, I see it's only 4:43 am.
"Don't turn the lights on!" Her voice raises just barely and she continues not to look at me as she's stuffing my clothes in my bag.
"I actually need those," I say and she immediately freezes.
Shaking the head to myself I get up and fish inside the bag for underwear and a pair of jeans that I dress quickly before getting the hoody left on the foot of the bed. Only after I'm dressed does she look at me again, which causes me to roll my eyes again at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Where's the briefcase?" Delphine asks and she's moving again, from the pocket of her coat she gets a flashlight and turns it on, pointing it to the floor to keep the brightness to a minimum.
"On the couch in the living room," I answer, not feeling nearly as worked up as she clearly is. I follow her across the bedroom and see her approaching the couch. "Are you gonna tell me what's..."
And I stop. The small opening under the front door attracts my attention, the lights suddenly disappearing. My eyes go to Delphine, who's urging me to be quiet with a finger over her lips, her stare moving to the door where a low rustling noise rises. She moves fast but silently, and is abruptly right in front of me.
"Get your things," she whispers into my ear.
With no time to say or do anything else, I go into the bedroom, collect the two cellphones and stuff them in the bag, in the bathroom I collect my underwear that Delphine has missed. The big luggage is hardly appropriate for a quick retreat and I fight with the handle, deciding that for now is best to let it roll on the floor. When I return to the living room, Delphine's leaned against the wall right by the door, gun in hand with the barrel to the ceiling and calls me with a movement of her wrist. I lift the luggage and stand next to her.
Delphine looks at me and aims her chin to the couch where the briefcase is still on along with my long coat. I mouth a "fuck!" and quietly get them both under Delphine's disapproving gaze, certain I see her shaking her head a little. Her eyes move between me and the door and we can hear someone breathing heavily on the other side, a very low clicking noise, like metal hitting metal. I sling the strap of the briefcase over my shoulder and take a firm grip on the handle of my luggage and give her a quick nod, signaling that I'm ready.
Delphine reaches for the doorknob with her free hand, the barrel of the gun aiming at where the door will open. Our trespasser finally manages to break the lock but Delphine's hand on the knob prevents him from opening the door without effort. We hear his breathing increase and he prepares to put more weight in his efforts. My entire body tenses, preparing to make a run for it, but it happens so fast that I don't react immediately. Just as he applies more strength to push the door open, Delphine twists the knob and the door swings open and the intruder - a large man, dressed in black and wearing a tactical mask - loses his balance and topples forward only to have Delphine slam the door square in his face, the crunching sound of his nose breaking making me cringe. He staggers, caught by surprise, but seeming more concerned about the blow to his face, and Delphine quickly takes him down, twisting her foot around his ankle to trip him and shoving his chest with the palm of her left hand. He resembles large tree as he falls.
Delphine's hand is firm around my left wrist and she tugs me out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway, the green emergency lights are illuminated, and I assume they'd cut the power. Delphine gives me a light push, encouraging me to go ahead, in the opposite direction of the elevators, as we leave the man struggling to get to his feet and screaming something I can't understand.
"He's calling for backup! We need to move!" Delphine is no longer whispering, instead stressing every syllable.
I move as quickly as my luggage allows me, moving like an invalid, my right side heavier due to the case I carry on my hand. Only the adrenaline pumping in my veins and Delphine's hand on my forearm allows me to keep up. As we turn a corner, I look back, seeing her glancing over her shoulder to keep track of the man still holding his face, the gun on her hand going back as she does so, but she's not aiming. A green light on top of a door tells me we've reached the emergency stairs and I know what she means to do, so I press the bar handle to push the door open and we are in the stairwell. I wait for her and Delphine illuminates our path down with the flashlight held by the left hand under her right one to keep the gun steady and we start to go down the narrow stairs. We only descend two levels and are caught between floors when flashlights coming form below us flash their beam up.
"Merde!" Delphine stops, noticing our way out blocked. "Let's get to the next floor!" She decides quickly and we resume our descent, the luggage weighing me down.
The heavy footsteps on the iron staircase become muffled when she quietly shuts the door behind us and we're back in a dark hallway, emergency lights barely enough to see when she turns off her flashlight
"How many floors down?" She asks back to a low voice.
"Seven by my count," I answer and change the case from one hand to the other.
"Did you really need a penthouse?" Delphine rebukes, even in the middle of the tense situation.
"I didn't know I'd end up being chased by Polish goons!" I answer.
"They're Russian," she corrects me and restarts to walk.
"Of course they are," I puff and struggle to keep up with her. "We're never gonna get out of here." I comment, more to myself than for her benefit.
A small red light catches my attention on the wall and I stop although she doesn't notice. Pushing the sleeve of my shirt over my hand, I reach for the handle and pull. Immediately the fire alarm sounds, and she stops to look at me with a shocked expression.
"What did you do that for?!" She has to yell to be heard, even as doors start to open around us and people spill out into the hall, still too sleepy to realize what's going on.
"It's called a diversion tactic!" I almost have to scream and it's my turn to put a hand on her chest to make her go against the wall. "Look!" I indicate the people around us.
Some are still stupid enough to try the elevators, even though with the alarm they're probably no longer working, but most of them head for the stairs we've just emerged from, their cellphones screens lighting their way. Delphine looks at me and smirks, sliding the gun inside her pocket and we wait for a couple of minutes.
"Do you think our friends are still there?" I ask with my mouth next to her ear.
She shakes her head and we step into the crowd of people. As expected the stairs are free of henchmen, but heavily populated with confused hotel guests. The main lobby is no better, employees work hard to assure the many guests that there's no cause for panic. In the middle of the confusion we manage to get out onto the street without being stopped.
"This way!" Delphine says, walking to the side of the building.
I spot the white car and move ahead of her, Delphine constantly looking back to make sure we're not being followed and I wait by it for her to unlock it with the key. I'm pushing the luggage into the backseat when we hear tires screeching down the street and a black sedan speeding our way, coming from the back of the hotel.
"Shit!" I say loud looking over my shoulder.
"Here! You drive!" Delphine runs to the passenger side and tosses me the keys.
We get in and our own tires slide a little as I press on the gas.
"Where are we going?" I ask, taking my eyes off the road to look at her.
"It doesn't matter," she answers, opening the window on her side and getting out the gun. "Just lose them!"
I'm about to say that there's no need for guns when a loud pop echoes on the nearly empty street.
"Fuck!" I all but scream, ducking my head as if that would help and press on the clutch to shift up.
"Pay attention, Cosima!" Delphine says loud before sticking her head out the window and squeezing the trigger of her semi-automatic a couple of times.
"Fuck!" I repeat louder and take a hard turn, not really knowing where to go.
Another rain of bullets comes from behind us and I can hear some of them hitting the trunk of the car.
"Keep taking turns!" Delphine instructs and she's shooting again.
And I do, I take a hard left, the tires scream and I lose control of the vehicle for a heartbeat, entering the street on the wrong side of the road. The car moving towards us honks just as I regain control and dodge it.
"Fucking shit!" My words cut through the sound of the gunshots behind us.
Delphine says something with her head out the window that I don't understand, but it sounds like something along the same lines as she fires. I brake and shift down the next time I turn, this time a right into a much narrower street and step on the pedal as soon as the car is straight. She comes back inside and opens the glove compartment, finding an extra magazine.
"You need to keep the car steady, I can't aim properly with you driving all over the place!" She complains, sliding the empty magazine out and pushing the new one in.
"I can either keep turning or I can keep the car steady," I answer. "You need to make up your fucking mind!"
"They're gaining on us! We're never going to lose them with you at the wheel," she says as she cocks the gun.
"We're never going to lose them because this is a piece of crap!" I reply. "Did you get the worst car you could find?"
Delphine narrows her eyes at me and opens her mouth to answer but more bullets flying by us springs her into action and she leans out the window again, the frustration I can see growing in her expression used against the people chasing us.
We reach an intersection and I speed through the red light, the traffic barely existing but I still hear a few honks as I cross the much larger street and continue on the narrow road. Delphine shoots a few more rounds and comes back inside.
"This isn't working," she says breathing rapidly. "I'm running out of ammo and we can't beat them with speed."
"What do you propose we do then?" I ask, ducking my head when more bullets fly by us, one of them smashes the mirror on my side. "Fuck!"
"Slow down and try to keep the car steady!" She instructs and before I have time to complain about her strategy, she's leaning out the window again.
I ease off the gas, and the motor complains loudly as I force it down a gear. Just as I do it, Delphine fires twice and retreats back to her seat.
"I got one of their tires!" She tells me excitedly, a proud smirk on her lips. "Step on it!"
I take the car to high gear, in the rearview mirror the black sedan starts to lose ground and I take a turn into a large street without breaking, feeling the back of the old car careening for a split second, but its compact form helps me regain control fast.
"Are they still there?" I ask, no longer seeing them on the mirror.
"I think not," she tells me. "But keep driving. Get us out of this damn city!"
I maintain my speed for a few more blocks, and when I'm absolutely sure that we've lost them, I slow down. Delphine unclips the magazine from the gun and empties the chamber before she places everything back in the glove compartment.
"Three rounds left," she announces, sounding much less tense but still glancing at the mirror.
"I have no idea how they found me," I voice my immediate concern now that we seem to be out of harm's way.
"The could've checked hotel records," Delphine ventures. "It's not that hard."
"They'd need to know my name for that," I say, knowing now that was exactly how she found me.
"We can't discount anything," she insists. "That reminds me... what about your phones?"
"What about them?" I frown and look at her when we stop on a red light.
"They could be tracking them," she explains. "If you left them in the hotel... we don't know if this was their first visit."
"I only left one there," I tell her. "The other one was with me all the time. No way they have access to it; not with my firewall."
"Lose it!"
I stare at her but the determination in her stare doesn't waver and I see no option but to stop the car next to the curb and reach back for my bag. She watches me like a hawk while I bring the big luggage to my lap and open the zipper. I take out the phone I used to contact S and open the back lid, getting out the SIM card, I bend it until it breaks right over the chip. Next I open the door of the car, drop the phone and card to the ground and step on it with the heel of my boot until it's completely shattered.
"Good then!" Delphine praises, somewhat amused, when I close the door. "We can go now."
I don't answer her and remain quiet when I get my smartphone and place the luggage back on the backseat. I bring up the GPS navigation app and place the phone on my thigh, selecting our destination. All the while I'm preoccupied with Mrs. S reaction when I get back to her from different number and when will I be able to do that in the first place.
"Where are we going?" Delphine asks when I start the car and drive.
I look at her but decide not to answer, focusing my stare on the road.
"Oh... We're back to not talking again?" She doesn't seem disturbed my mood, casually rolling her window up. "It's hard to keep up."
I snort, but don't break my silence. My eyes go to her again, noticing her shift in the seat, taking off her coat and balling it to serve as a pillow. She pulls the seat belt over her chest and leans her head against the glass.
"Stick to the secondary roads and drive under the limit, please," she says already with her eyes closed
"Like this piece of junk can break the speed limit..." I break my silence to complain.
She laughs lowly. "Wake me up when we get there."