The Freedom Broker (Thea Paris #1)(74)

He searched under the wastebaskets. When Rif traveled, he often placed important documents in an envelope, taped them to the bottom of a wastebasket, and kept the can empty so the cleaning staff wouldn’t move it. Nothing there.

In the bathroom, he examined the shampoo bottles and lotions. The tinted containers could be ideal hiding places for valuable items, but Nikos hadn’t tampered with them either. Rif slid his hand under the mattress, careful not to disturb the pristine bed. Still nothing. He searched for “slips,” hiding places that were easy to access but hard to find. Zip.

Next, the safe. People were na?ve if they thought their valuables were secure inside a hotel safe, and Thea’s brother was not a trusting person. But Nikos hadn’t had time to store any critical items in the hotel vault because he’d arrived last night just before the cocktail party, and the negotiations had started first thing in the morning. Maybe he’d be in luck.

His left hand smacked the top of the digital safe while his right hand twisted the dial. The safe clicked open. A small motor pulled down the pin and allowed the bolt to slide. When he hit the top of the safe, the shockwave dropped the pin, and if he twisted at the right time, the door would open just as if he’d entered the code.

A cooler pouch filled with syringes rested inside. Rif flashed on Peter’s poisoning last night. Cyanide? He sniffed the end of one of the syringes. No hint of the bitter almond scent. Instead, the fluid smelled like those rubbery Band-Aids they’d had as kids. Weird. What the heck was this stuff? Was Nikos hooked on drugs, or was this syringe meant for someone else?

Noises in the hallway jolted him into action. Maybe the maid checking on him? He placed the syringe back in the safe and closed it. The door rattled. No time to exit. He stepped into the spacious closet, closed the door, and masked himself behind Nikos’s freshly pressed shirts. He had a view of the room through the slats.

Soft footsteps sounded on the plush carpet. Nikos entered the room and closed the door behind him. Rif hoped he wasn’t planning a change of clothes. And why wasn’t he in the negotiations? Seconds later, a sharp rap sounded. Nikos opened the hotel room door.

“I told you we couldn’t be seen together in public,” he said.

“You’re fortunate they called for a short break. It’ll give you a chance to explain yourself. Why are you planted at the Paris Industries table?” Xi-Ping asked.

“‘Planted’ is the right word. I’m gathering intel on Paris Industries’ strategy so we can outmaneuver them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t report to you. Our arrangement remains the same.”

“If I’m your partner, you need to keep me apprised,” she said.

“Stop being such a controlling bitch. I like it too much.”

She laughed, a husky sound. Christ, had he stumbled on a Psychos-R-Us support meeting? They’d better not start screwing. That’d be more than Rif could stomach.

“Do we have time?” Xi-Ping’s voice was a purr.

“Later. If we play this right, we’ll have all the time in the world.”

So Thea’s brother was hooked up with the Chinese competition. Sounded as if Nikos was playing by his own rules, as usual. He was definitely using this woman—but what was his endgame?

He had to warn Thea.





Chapter Fifty-Two



A short break was announced after Chi’s opening remarks. Thea turned to Ahmed Khali. “The Chinese National Oil Company seems to have made substantial inroads with Prime Minister Kimweri.”

“True, but Paris Industries has been doing business in Kanzi for decades, and we’ve worked hard to build schools, hospitals, and wells to help the people here. Hopefully our long-term commitment will pay off.”

Papa had purchased biofuels for more than twenty years from Kanzi, working with three different prime ministers. Plus they’d already been studying and drilling on the land adjacent to this particular find, which was how the oil had been discovered. “My father would be very proud of the job you’re doing in his absence.”

Because of political instability, loyalty was a moving target in Africa, with the wealthiest company often hitting the bull’s-eye. And proof of that was Prime Minister Kimweri’s laughter as he chatted with Chi Quan. Thea looked around for Nikos, wanting to ask him for more information about the Quans, but her brother had disappeared.

She exited the conference room and scanned the hallway. No sign of Nikos, but Gabrielle Farrah blazed a path directly toward her.

“May I please have a minute?” the government agent asked.

“You have news?” Thea dared to hope.

The woman passed Thea a folded sheet of paper. “Not on Christos’s whereabouts. But I agree that these negotiations seem to be directly tied to his abduction. To that end, we ran across something else. I hope it’s helpful.” She headed back into the conference room.

Thea studied the paper—an intercepted e-mail between Prime Minister Kimweri’s brother-in-law and Quan Chi. In it, Chi detailed the exact percentage of production value Paris Industries planned to offer and promised two percent more—which translated into millions of dollars.

Her body stiffened. Very few people knew the intimate details of their closely guarded offer. How had Chi garnered such sensitive information?