A/N: Sorry for the long wait.
Thanks to my Beta.
The next day when Delphine knocks on the cottage door, my two roommates are getting ready to leave as well. Sarah has requested the guard at the gate to inform her when Daniel leaves and which direction he'll head - just in case. Once she gets the word, they'll leave as well, but their job won't be easy - the only car we have at our disposal is the one Daniel himself provided to us, thus he's familiar with it. It will be a challenge, a delicate balance to remain close enough not to lose him while also keeping a certain distance so he doesn't spot the tail. For that to be successful, I'm counting on Sarah's experience and Daniel's obliviousness.
I go to the door and find Delphine leaning against the outside wall, a cigarette between her fingers. She's sharply dressed again, wool black trousers that accentuate her lean figure, the long pearl coat tied tightly around her waist. The evening is cold even though the sun has barely set, while high white clouds cover the sky slightly hiding the pale crescent moon.
"You ready?" She asks, looking at me with only her head turned in my direction.
"Just about," I answer, reaching inside to pull my coat from the hook by the door.
From the couch, Sarah eyes me with a heavy semblance. Luckily, Felix is still getting ready in his bedroom or else Delphine's presence at our door wouldn't have been so uneventful. Delphine herself doesn't seem to be in a particularly exciting mood. It's true that she's never been one to overly share her thoughts, but tonight she seems to be especially quiet. The frowning brows, set lips, and tension in her movements insinuate the concern which appears to be haunting her.
"Is everything alright?" I dare ask only when the great property has disappeared from the rear view mirror.
"No." She answers shortly, in a tense low voice.
"Okay…" I say more for myself than for Delphine's ears.
By now, I'm well-versed in her sudden mood swings but it doesn't mean I'm able to know how to deal with her when I don't know which side I'm going to get. Delphine's humor is so volatile that I make myself believe the best way to approach it is by not addressing it at all.
"I'm sorry… it's not… it's not you," she says after a moment, her tone much softer. I notice her trying to relax her shoulders, but it's no good because her knuckles still pronounce the tight, tense grip around the wheel.
Do you wanna talk about it? I think of asking but chose not to, remembering that that's not exactly how we work; that the complexity of our relationship doesn't coexist well with common subterfuges or small talk. The issues which arise between us cannot be resolved by talking. Resolve is not achievable by giving words to our most inner thoughts.
"Can you tell me?" Is the closest question that comes to mind that would give Delphine the chance to speak if she so chooses.
She watches me for a moment. "Something's wrong…" she eventually says cryptically.
I huff. "A lot of shit's wrong," I reply, twisting my lips and looking out the window into the night setting outside.
"No… I mean with Daniel," Delphine says while shaking her head slowly from side to side.
I can't help my sudden laugh. "A lot of shit's wrong with Daniel."
I notice her rolling her eyes and the subtle curl of her lips, even though her stare never leaves the road ahead. "This is different," Delphine explains.
"You're worried about him." I feel a slight coil in my stomach even before I say the words.
"I'm worried about what he may do," Delphine corrects me in the next heartbeat. "He's been locked in the library all day, I can hear him talking on the phone through the door…" she stops and shakes her head once more. "I believe he's about to do something incredibly stupid."
"As if cutting a deal with the Russian mob isn't stupid enough," I comment, my interest peaking at the conversation remembering what Sarah and Felix are in charge of doing tonight.
"I won't deny that," Delphine agrees with the lights of the city already coming into view. "But this is different… this feels more imminent."
I raise a brow. "Imminent as in tonight?" I watch her nodding her head. "You think it's about this business dinner?"
"It has to be," she answers in a more lively voice. "I haven't heard about it until last night when he told us. And now he's been acting strange all day…"
"Yeah, but I mean… it can't be unusual for him to spend the entire day in the library, taking care of business, right?" I ask.
"No, not exactly," Delphine concedes. "But he'd always have lunch with me whenever I'm in the property, even taking a little break so we can spend some time together," she continues to explain.
"I don't know, Delphine…" I give her a doubtful look. "It doesn't seem like a lot… so what if he doesn't have time to waste with his fiancée."
"It's not about that, Cosima," Delphine sounds not only annoyed, but slightly defensive as well. "Daniel is a man of routines, we count on it. I'm used to knowing his schedule well in advance. I might not know who he's meeting all the time, but I know when he leaves. This out of character behavior has fucked up our plans entirely," she goes on and I'm starting to see the real problem. "We didn't have enough time to prepare."
"When you say we, you mean the Feds," I clarify for my own benefit. "You have him under surveillance."
"Not constantly," Delphine says and looks at me when we stop at a red light. "Just whenever we can't exactly account for his whereabouts… Having him under constant surveillance would demand resources and manpower we simply cannot afford. That's why I'm there, to track his every move."
"Do you have someone on him now?" I ask, suddenly extremely concerned.
"Only a team of two men," Delphine answers, the traffic becoming more sluggish as we head into the city traffic. "Probably someone in HQ monitoring."
"Shit!" I snap, reaching inside my pocket for my phone. "Fuck! Fuck!" I continue as I dial Sarah.
"What?" Delphine asks, her eyes going briefly to me, but the traffic ahead of us is moving again. "What's wrong?"
I ignore her questions while I listen to the other line ringing, but Sarah's not picking up and my worries grow exponentially. "Sarah and Felix are supposed to be tailing him tonight," I explain in an excited voice.
"Why would they be doing that?" Delphine sounds upset.
"Because I asked them to…" I answer. "Probably for the same reason the Feds are… we want to know what his deal is."
Delphine is about to say something that I suspect I won't like, but she's cut off by the sound of my phone vibrating with Felix's call. I was ready to answer but Delphine puts her right hand on my phone's screen, preventing me from doing so.
"You can't tell them!" She says adamantly.
"The hell I can't!" I reply sharply, taking the phone out of her reach.
"And how are you going to explain to them that you know the FBI is following Daniel?" Delphine challenges before I pick up Felix's call.
"Fuck!" I mutter and for a moment I stare at my phone's screen.
"What's wrong?" Felix asks immediately after I finally answer his call.
"Just checking in," I reply feebly. "Has he left yet?"
"A few moments ago," he says. "We just left the Webster's Estate."
I nod to myself, hearing in the background the car's engine. "Yeah… just remember to keep your distance," I warn again. "He can recognize the car."
"So you've said… over and over…" Felix tells me in an annoyed voice, and I can hear the roll of his eyes in his tone.
"I know I did, but you can never be too careful," I insist and I know he doesn't like it, I know he thinks this is just me not believing in his or Sarah's abilities, but there's no other way to put it. Delphine's right - I can't tell them that the Feds are also following Daniel without explaining how I had access to that information. For one, they're too suspicious and would never let it go. And at the moment their sole focus should only be in what they're doing.
"All I mean is that the priority is to keep our cover," I continue to press when Felix says nothing. "If you lose him it won't be the end of the world."
"Is there anything we should know?" I hear Sarah's voice, not surprised to be on speaker.
"No, no…" I hesitate for a second and beat myself over it. Sarah's too good not to notice my hesitation.
"Good! Then shut up and let us do our job!" She says roughly before the line goes silent.
"Shit!" I murmur, putting my phone away.
"That went well," Delphine, who was clearly paying attention to the conversation, comments, eyeing me sideways.
"She's a charmer," I say, upset but not surprised by how Sarah received my apparent over-anxiousness.
"Even if the team that's surveilling Daniel spots your friends, they won't do anything," Delphine says matter-of-factually. "But if they knew the FBI is on the same target, they'd start acting erratically and my colleagues would become suspicious, you see?"
"I know," I concede. "I just wish you'd warned me sooner."
"We have a communication issue, it's nothing new…" Delphine comments.
I hum and look out the window. Droplets of rain have started to fall, brightening the lights of the city against the glass. The traffic is heavy from the moment we've entered the city center, making us move at a slow pace. I open the window and even if drops of rain land on my glasses every now and then, I am greeted by a cold breeze that feels refreshing on my face. I'm not really paying attention to where we're going - I'm sure Delphine knows our destination and I'm not interested in worrying about what she has in store for us.
"We're here."
I don't know if it's Delphine's softly spoken words or her hand resting on my knee that makes me open my eyes and I realize that the car has stopped.
"Where's here?" I ask, looking around and not recognizing the place. A few people slowly moving on the sidewalk, the traffic much lighter than it was when I closed my eyes and I wonder if I might've drifted off.
"There's a small Italian place just ahead," she explains, with a movement of her head she signals somewhere down the street.
"Ohh…" I mumble and get out of the car when she does.
"It's nothing as fancy as the place your boss arranged for our meeting, but it's a discreet and cozy little restaurant. The great food doesn't hurt either." Delphine smiles as she looks at me to gauge my reaction.
"I'm sure it'll do," I say, masking my minor disappointment. The restaurant is fine, but I was aiming at something that didn't involve having other people around. "So… are we still meeting Daniel for drinks after?"
Delphine shrugs. "I don't know. As I said, we didn't exactly talk today. But we better count on it."
And my disappointment just keeps mounting. "Does that mean that your colleagues are going to see us arriving together to meet Daniel?"
"They know I'm having dinner with you," Delphine explains in a casual tone, opening the door to the restaurant and holding it until I cross it.
As promised, the place is small - no more than ten tables for two, a couple of which have been pushed together to accommodate a party of four. The restaurant is full and the air is rich with the smell of basil, oregano and tomato. We have to wait at the bar for a table to be available which gives me the opportunity to look around. The patrons talk in low voices, the noise of silverware on plates is a persistent soundtrack, and from the position we were led to, we have a privileged view into the kitchen where a man is making a pizza dough spin in the air before it lands perfectly-centered on his knuckles.
"Will you have something to drink while you wait?" The waiter asks us.
"Just a glass of whichever red wine you're serving," Delphine answers, taking off her coat that she drapes over her knees before she takes a sit on the stool. I take a moment to notice Delphine's white, silky shirt. Instead of buttons, the front edges descend over her chest, lace on the front and around her waist to tie on her lower back. It shows a generous amount of cleavage.
"I'll have the same," I say when my eyes had their fill and when I realize the man is waiting for my response.
"Very well," he nods. "We should have a table available soon," he assures us before stepping away.
I follow his steps with my eyes as he walks briskly to the back of a counter and reaches underneath for a bottle that he uses to liberally serve our drinks. I was somewhat fearful of what we might get, but the wine is smooth, ruby red, and leaves an almost sweet aftertaste on my tongue.
"Their sangria is also great," Delphine says after she has tasted the wine. "Perhaps another time..."
"When all this crap is over…" I suggest with a dubious stare in her direction.
"When I'm not driving," Delphine counters with a disarming smile.
I'm momentarily distracted by her expression, she seems to be in a better mood, and there's nothing more distracting than an honest smile coming from her. "I really thought you'd take us to that hole in the city you call home," I admit, keeping my eyes on her, watching for her reaction.
In half a heartbeat her smile turns into an arrogant smirk. "You mean the FBI safe house?" She laughs. "I imagine we wouldn't get much talking done if that was the case, and we do need to talk."
"Business before pleasure…" I observe and Delphine's smirk grows.
"Ladies, if you'd come with me." The waiter approaches from the side and indicates a table that has been made available.
We take our glasses with us and follow him to a table that's on the other side of the room away from any window, granting us some privacy. It doesn't take too long for us to decide to share a pizza.
"So… business then…" I urge the moment we're left alone. "Have you managed to find anything about Daniel's Russian business partner?"
Delphine seems amused by my change of tempo. "Not a lot, unfortunately," she answers and pauses when a basket of garlic bread is placed on our table. "Our file on Mr. Volkov is mighty thin," she explains, reaching for a piece.
"Why would that be?" I ask, mimicking her action. "He seems to be quite resourceful, considering how he managed to get into the States. How many people can say that they have a private plane to take them halfway around the world?"
Delphine shrugs. "The iron curtain is still a reality. There isn't much we can get from Russia if they don't want us to. We've tried the official channels but got nothing. All we have is what we could get ourselves and, so far, we only had him marked as a known associate of individuals who blimp brighter in our radar," she explains, keeping her voice intimate. "However it's clear now that perhaps we should've been paying a little more attention to his activities."
"So, what exactly do you have on him?" I inquire further, reaching for my wine glass once more.
"He's always of been in the periphery of Russian big names," she goes on. "You know… a friend of a friend sorta deal. And he may not have as many resources as you're lead to believe. I mean, he certainly has more than the average citizen, but not by Russian oligarch standards," Delphine continues to explain. "Take that plane that you've mentioned. We did some digging and it didn't take long to discover that it was chartered in Vigo, Spain. It belongs to a private company which, yes, has a significant amount of Russian money invested."
"But not his," I deduce.
"As far as we can tell, no," Delphine confirms.
"What about the daughter? Anything on her?" I try a different approach.
"29, Economics in Cambridge followed by Master's in management," Delphine answers. "Seems to be clean."
"A whole bunch of nothing then," I concluded, the disappointment seeping in my tone.
"I wouldn't say that, we're just starting," Delphine says. "As I've mentioned, until now we had no reason to look at him closely, but he's in our radar now. Give us more time, we'll find everything there is to know about him."
"I'm glad you can keep this sort of positive attitude," I say a little too annoyed, finding the glass on my hand empty when I bring it to my lips.
My fairly innocent remark appears to have struck a chord in Delphine. "This is not wishful thinking, Cosima. It's factual," she says in a rapid cadence of words that, nonetheless, is spoken low enough not to attract attention. "But you have to give me more than a couple of days to produce something more substantial."
"Alright, no need to get so defensive about it, okay…" I say in a conciliatory tone. "Besides, apparently another meeting is to take place to make up for the debacle of the last one. Maybe we can carve out more information about Mr. Volkov then."
"When is this going to happen?" Delphine asks, the new information makes her slide forward on the chair.
"The day after tomorrow," I tell her. "But the whole thing stinks. Daniel has relinquished all control to them. We don't know where it's going to take place and we'll be flying blind the entire time. It's got trap written all over it." I notice Delphine shaking her head. "I know… awful idea."
"Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea for us to join efforts in this," she suggests. "We should come up with a plan, find a way for us to communicate as it happens, maybe follow from a distance or something, make sure all goes smoothly."
"I'm not saying it's a bad idea," I say while at the same time feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. "But it's not going to be easy to coordinate efforts." I take out the phone and read Sarah's message. "Daniel has pulled up at a hotel," I inform Delphine as I text Sarah back, urging her to be careful if she decides - as I suspect she will - to follow him inside.
"Which hotel?" Delphine asks, somewhat puzzled.
"Don't you have your own guys after him?" I taunt her, to which I receive an ugly look from across the table. "The Intercontinental," I concede, deciding that I should pick my battles with Delphine more carefully.
"Their restaurant is on the bottom level," Delphine says in a thoughtful way. "Your friends will do better not to follow him inside - we'll know soon enough who Daniel's meeting."
"And what justification do I give them to stand down?" I twist my lips. "Besides, who's to say he's not skipping dinner all together and meet a lady friend in a room upstairs?"
Delphine laughs at my conjecture, and that's exactly the moment the same waiter who's been attending us places the pizza at the center of the table and asks if we need anything else. Still stifling a laugh, Delphine, on her own volition, tells the young man who's waiting on us to bring me another glass of wine - and no, none for her because she's driving but the wine is indeed to her taste. Through all these simple words, I observe her interaction with the waiter – who's barely out of boyhood given the hint of a mustache above his upper lip, yet already grown up enough to not be able to take his eyes off her.
"You think you're so incredible that the possibility of Daniel cheating on you is absolutely preposterous?" I place it as a question, but in reality is more of an affirmation.
"You tell me," Delphine lifts her brow suggestively and gives me one of her pretentious but totally endearing smiles. "But no, that's not it," she paused for the waiter to place a filled glass before me and steal another look in Delphine's direction before taking his leave. "The thing is… Daniel is so involved with himself that he barely has time for me, let alone another woman," she explains. "His priority is the company or whichever deal he's working with the Russian - not women. Now, if we were talking about his brother… well, that would be a totally different matter."
"Sounds to me like he's going to be an awful husband," I comment, reaching for a slice.
"Oh, I have no doubts about that," Delphine agrees, using her fork to slide a slice to her own plate. "With him being in jail and all…"
"You really think we're going to see the end of this before you two actually have a wedding?" I ask in a more serious note.
Delphine hums and swallows what she was eating. "There's a reason why we still haven't set up a date," she says. "But I'd like this to end sooner rather than later. I can only find so many excuses to delay it."
"I'll drink to that," I say, theatrically raising my glass.
One thing Delphine was right about: each bite of the pizza is a slice of heaven. The crust is thin but not too hard, just enough to give a different texture to the toppings on top of a delicious tomato sauce and perfectly-melted mozzarella: a mix of bell peppers, dried tomatoes, mushrooms and a few circles of pepperoni that carries a kick. It doesn't take long for it to disappear before our eyes.
Even so, no matter how delicious the meal truly is, I can't enjoy it completely. I'm starting to feel restless and anxiety takes up a permanent spot in my mind. It's been too long since Sarah's last communication - I've not heard from her since she told me that yes, she'd absolutely go after Daniel, and that yes, she'll be careful about it. Still, I refrain from sending her another text. I know that Sarah has good instincts - I should trust them at least as much as she trusts mine. And aside from the dubious look she gave me, she wasn't terribly overbearing after knowing that I'm spending the night with Delphine.
"What about our mysterious Mr. Y? Anything on him?" I inquire once the dessert is placed on our table: a panna cotta served with a delicious raspberry sauce that we've decided to share as well.
Delphine gives me a mildly frustrated look. "You have to give me more time, Cosima," she says. "I can't conjure answers for you overnight. Especially since I'm doing it alone, on my own time."
"Alright, alright…" I wave both my hands. "But you haven't forgotten about our little arrangement, I hope."
"Even if I did, I'm sure you wouldn't let me forget it for long," she answers with annoyance growing in her voice.
"Well, this full disclosure thing is a two-way street, you know," I comment, carefully choosing my words.
"Yes, too bad that your Ms. S doesn't see it that way," Delphine says, reaching for my glass of wine and taking a small sip of it, since hers is long empty. "Or do you think I believe for a second that she's given me everything she has on this character." She sets the glass back down on the table in front of me. "At most, she provided the bare minimum for me to try to identify him."
"S is suspicious by nature," I don't even try to deny it. "It's not personal - she's like that with everyone. Don't think you're special or something."
"Okay, I understand she probably has her reasons," Delphine concedes. "I just hope she doesn't take it personally when others give her the same treatment."
Delphine's phone cuts into our conversation, and it's her turn to read whatever is on the screen. "We have to go," she says after a deep sigh.
The night is getting much colder, although the rain doesn't get much more than the occasional sprinkle intensified by the strong gusts of wind. Both of us pull our coats closer to our chest as we make the short walk to the car.
"Was that Daniel?" I ask once we're in the car.
"Yes," she answers, pulling her seatbelt. "Daniel's waiting for us at the hotel's bar."
I try Sarah's and then Felix's to tell them that I'm heading to the hotel, but neither of them picks up. Then I text them both, asking for an immediate reply, but all I get is silence.
"Something's not right," I say, my eyes glued to the phone's screen hoping for a sign of life from my partners.
"Is that normal?" Delphine asks, her eyes showing some concern. "Them not answering your calls?"
"Not while we're working, no," I say. "They might not pick up the phone but they do reply via text if they can't talk. I've told them that we should be in constant communication."
With her eyes on the road, Delphine doesn't say anything else - either she thinks that we're terribly disorganized or she also suspects that something's wrong. Whatever is going on inside that head of hers, she appears to be focused on the road. She doesn't drive recklessly, but she swerves the car between the traffic, trying to reach our destination as quickly as possible.
She doesn't use the valet service available at the hotel. Instead she parks at the end of the street where she has an unobstructed view of the main entrance. We don't get out immediately, she scans the area looking for anything suspicious or out of place. It's something that's incredibly familiar to me - I've spent years watching Siobhan do this very thing, and even I have acquired this paranoid habit. People like us see enemies everywhere we go - anyone we see is a potential foe. The only thing that makes me realize how unusual this ritual is is when I see it coming from Delphine. I think part of my brain has yet to adjust to this side of her.
Before she gets out the car, Delphine leans to my side and opens the glove box. I'm half expecting her to go for the gun, which I notice is inside, but it's a phone she's looking for. It's turned off and it takes a while for it to be fully operational and once it is, she punches in a number that's not saved in the phone's memory.
"I'm going inside the Intercontinental to meet the target," she says in a calm, emotionless voice. "SI two is with me."
I look at her with a raised brow as she finishes her communication and turns off the phone, placing it back inside the glove box. "What is SI two?" I ask when I see her going for the coat on the backseat.
She looks at me. "Subject of interest," she clarifies, getting off the car.
"Who's number one?" I get out as well and we start walking on the sidewalk.
"Sarah is," Delphine answers. "Felix is number three."
"Damn… I feel kinda disappointed," I half-jokingly comment.
"I considered Sarah a more serious threat," she tells me with a smile.
"And it was your own assessment…Fuck, I think that makes it worse," I complain and Delphine laughs slightly. "At least you didn't think me weaker than Felix."
Delphine continues to laugh. "It's not about strength, Cosima. I just considered that Sarah was put in a position that could make more damage, it's all."
I push my glasses up my nose with my index finger and I look up at her, giving her my most professional stance. "I must disagree," I say. "This day and age anyone who has unrestricted access to someone's electronic communications can do much more damage than someone who has access to weapons."
"But guns represent a more immediate danger," Delphine counters.
"You just don't want to admit you're wrong," I declare as we approach the hotel door.
Despite our light banter, Delphine's eyes are constantly surveying the lobby as we cross it, walking pass the check-in counter and heading towards the bar on the left, climbing the two marble steps and pushing pass the glass double doors. In the bar, there aren't many places one could find if they prefer some privacy - the light fixtures dangle from the ceiling over each one of the several brightly-illuminated tables spread across the large space. With the outdoor service closed due to the weather, it took one scan for us to realize that Daniel is not in the room - not in any table or at the counter.
I furrow my brows in mild confusion and look up at Delphine. "Now what?" I ask.
"Maybe he's still at the restaurant," she suggests, doubt painting her words. "Try your friends again, see if they have eyes on him."
I can see the concern in her expression, her stare moving across the room, looking for something that she knows isn't there. Soon she's leaving the bar, heading back to the lobby as I ring Sarah again, but she's still not picking up, and I let Delphine know by shaking my head. We're at the door of the restaurant, at the opposite side of the bar when the phone still in my hand vibrates with Felix's call.
"Finally," I say slightly exasperated but taking a deep breath of relief. "Why the hell haven't you been…" I'm cut off by Felix's agitated voice on the line, he's trying to say something but I can't make out what it is. "Calm down Felix, what's happened?" I ask in the most calming voice I can produce when worry is again taking hold of my heart. In the corner of my eye I see Delphine watching me and when our stares meet she mouths 'What?'.
"Shit, shit… oh my fucking God! Fuck!" Are the first words I got from him.
"What happened?" I repeat. "Where are you?"
"In his room," he says nearly screaming into the phone.
"Who's room?" I ask confused.
"Daniel's," and Felix is starting to sound hysterical.
"What number?" I continue to try to pry information from a very anxious Felix.
From the other end of the line I hear Sarah saying something that I cannot understand and then a crackling noise.
"Cosima, we're at Daniel's hotel room," Sarah's talking now, sounding a lot more in control than Felix, but there's a nervous edge to her voice. "I think it's best if you get here."
"I'm at the hotel," I say, pulling Delphine by the elbow, already starting to walk in the elevators' direction. "Which room?"
If Sarah thought it was odd that I'm already at the hotel, she doesn't say a word about it. "425, knock twice" is the only thing she says before the line goes dead.
The elevator doors open with a ping and Delphine and I step inside. "425," I repeat to Delphine, and she presses the bottom for the 8th floor.
The relaxing music playing in the elevator is an ironic contrast to the turmoil raging in my head. We're too tense to say anything to each other, Delphine's hands curled into fists and stretch again, on and on. Her jaw muscles continuously contract and relax, but other than that she's absolutely still. Meanwhile I keep moving from one foot to the other, my eyes fixed on the panel with the information of the levels that we pass, urging it to go faster somehow. We are too worked out to even contemplate the most obvious questions – 'Why would Daniel have a room at the hotel?' or 'Why did he say that he was waiting for us at the bar when he either never was there or, if he was, left?' The only time our stares meet is when the doors open with another ping before us, her golden eyes wide open.
The corridor is empty when we step outside the elevator, but we try not to walk too fast anyway. I'm sure Delphine is as mindful of the security cameras as I am. I knock twice on the door and immediately it's opened just enough for us to cross into the hotel's suite.
Sarah's on the floor by the foot of the bed, her shirt tainted crimson, in her arms there's Daniel - beneath him a pool of blood, his throat viciously slashed from side to side.