favor her. She then pointed at the closed bathroom door to Petra’s right. “She’s in there.”
Petra moved to a spot near the wall where she could see both the woman and the bathroom door. “Sit down,” she ordered the woman.
The woman shrugged and sat on the edge of the bed.
Petra shot a glance at Mikhail and nodded at the bathroom. “Check it,” she told him in Russian. When she looked back, the woman on the bed was staring at her, a curious look on her face. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything,” the woman said.
Mikhail approached the door, stopping against the wall just shy of the jamb. It was hinged on the other side and would open into the room.
After a brief hesitation, he reached out with his free hand, pushed the levered handle down, then gave it a jerk. As the door swung open, he fell back against the wall, his gun trained toward the opening.
Though there was no light on inside, enough spilled in from the bedroom so that Petra could see someone hunched low a few feet inside.
“Come out,” Petra said.
The other woman remained where she was.
“You don’t want us to drag you out,” Petra said.
The woman swayed back and forth a few times, but still made no move to exit.
“Out now!”
The woman on the bed smiled as she shook her head once. “She can’t.”
“Why not?”
“See for yourself.”
“Mikhail,” Petra said, nodding at the open doorway.
Mikhail leaned forward so he could see inside. “What …?” The question was barely audible, meant for himself, but it concerned Petra. Something was not right.
She watched as he stepped into the bathroom, his gun falling to his side.
“Careful,” Petra snapped.
“It’s okay,” he said without turning around.
Mikhail flipped the bathroom light on, but his body blocked Petra’s view. He leaned forward for several seconds, then with a grunt stood back up. Now Petra could see the woman’s head.
The woman was wearing a gag. As Mikhail pulled her into the main room, Petra saw that, in addition, her hands were tied behind her back.
“You want me to take the gag off?” Mikhail asked Petra.
Petra looked at the Asian woman. “Who is she?”
“Like you’d believe me if I told you,” the woman said.
“Take it off,” Petra told Mikhail.
As soon as the gag was off, the woman coughed, then drew in a deep breath. “Thank you,” she croaked.
“Who are you?” Petra asked.
There was another fit of coughing.
“Your name.”
“Can you untie my hands?” the woman asked. “I think I’ve lost feeling in them.”
The Asian woman rolled her eyes.
“What is your name?” Petra said, growing annoyed.
“Annabel,” she said.
“Annabel what?”
“Why do you need to know that?”
“Put the gag back on,” Petra ordered.
Mikhail raised the cloth back to Annabel’s face.
“No. Wait,” Annabel said. “Taplin. My last name’s Taplin.”
Mikhail paused, glancing at Petra.
“I didn’t say stop.”
Annabel’s eyes widened as Mikhail tied the gag back over her mouth.
“Perhaps you’d like to tell us your name,” Petra said to the Asian woman.
Instead of answering, the woman stared at Petra, a knowing smile on her face. “You’re the one who was in Maine, aren’t you?” she said.
Petra tensed.
“And in Los Angeles, too. Right?”
“Who are you?” Petra asked.
“I might ask you the same question.”
Petra paused for a moment. There was something about this woman she liked. She got a serious no-bullshit vibe from her. “We are looking for someone we think you might work with.”
“And who would that be?”
“A man named Jonathan Quinn.”
“And I’m supposed to know him?”
“I know you do. You wouldn’t have known where I’ve been, otherwise.” Petra hesitated. “We need to talk to him.”
The woman smirked. “That’s all? Just a little chat?”
“Just talk.”
“Not kill him like you killed David Wills yesterday?”
“We didn’t kill Wills,” Petra said.
“You were there.”
“If I could have talked to him, I wouldn’t be looking for your friend now. But he was dead before I had a chance.”
“So you moved on to Quinn.”
“I have no one left.” Petra knew she sounded desperate, but she didn’t care.
The woman stared curiously at her for a moment. Petra almost felt like she saw sympathy in her eyes. Then the woman looked past Petra, toward the front door.
Petra turned her head to see what the woman had seen. Mikhail was keeping an eye on the other woman, but otherwise there was nothing—
Her gun was suddenly wrenched from her hand. She started to turn back around, but before she could she was flying backward into Mikhail. They both fell to the floor, Petra on top.
“Gun,” the woman said.
She was standing over them, Petra’s weapon in her hand pointing at Petra’s chest.
“Slowly,” the woman said. Mikhail’s gun flew up over his leg and landed on the floor near the woman’s feet.
Not taking her eyes off them, the woman crouched down and picked it up, then stood again. “Now, what exactly is it you want to talk to Quinn about?”
Chapter 39
When Quinn arrived at St. Pancras station, the inbound Eurostar was already disembarking. Hundreds of passengers were spilling out the doors from the passport control area into the main concourse and mixing with the hundreds of others making their way to and from the domestic trains, or passing through on their way to the Underground at the far end. Barely controlled chaos. If Nate had stuck to his training, he and Liz would have
