The boulevard wasn’t very wide, but it was two lanes of traffic on each side that turned into one lane when people parked their cars. A landscaped median with benches divided the boulevard. There was a bus stop in the median and a Métro entrance across the street.
“I want you to stay in the car,” Chase said, glancing at her.
“That’s it? Shouldn’t I drive or something?”
He snorted. “You ever take a defensive driving course?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“I’ll do the driving.”
Her heart thumped. She didn’t like the idea of waiting in the car while he went and stole a package. She also didn’t like the idea that Sergei Turov was out there, watching and waiting. What if he had the same idea Chase had? What if his guys were planning to intercept the van before it reached Tyler’s building?
But why would they do that? They didn’t know she was here, or that Chase was with her—unless maybe they did. It was certainly possible by now, even if Turov hadn’t recognized her on the plane.
Sophie shuddered as she thought of the way his gaze had met hers. So cold. So cruel. She would hate to be at his mercy.
Sophie scanned the traffic, the people on the sidewalks, inside the cars that passed, and her blood rushed through her veins. She kept expecting to see something out of the ordinary, something that indicated they’d been found, but there was nothing. It was a normal day in a busy city, and everyone had somewhere to go.
There was also no sign of the delivery van as the minutes passed.
“Talk to me, Kid,” Chase said, the sudden growl of his voice making her jump. “Where’s the vehicle?”
His fingers curled around the wheel as he listened to whatever the man on the other end was saying. “Fuck, that’s not good. … Yeah, nothing to do but wait.”
“What?” she asked, her pulse throbbing.
He gave her a look. “Accident on the route. The van’s delayed.”
“Can we go find it?”
He shook his head. “Too risky. We could get caught in traffic and our escape route cut off. Not to mention I’d have to physically restrain the driver—that would get us noticed, and not in a good way. The reason we’re here is because this is the best stop to obtain the package undetected.”
Sophie nibbled her lip. “I hate this,” she said after another minute went by. “I hate being so close and not knowing if we’ll succeed. What if Sergei Turov has the same plan? He’ll be somewhere nearby, waiting like we are.”
“Yeah, he will. This is the best spot to take the package from before it gets delivered.” He tapped the steering wheel. “The vehicle’s ten minutes behind schedule. Shit, this is not good. Any sign that Open Sky is in the database, Kid?”
The man on the phone must have replied because Chase raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I understand. Let’s just hope that if they are, the script keeps them busy.”
A car suddenly appeared on the passenger side, headlights flashing as the driver warned them they were blocking his driveway. Sophie jumped and Chase swore, but he put the car in gear and moved out of the spot. The other car—a Peugeot—whipped into traffic and accelerated past them at a wide spot in the road, but not before the driver laid on the horn.
“Yeah, yeah, buddy. I get it.” Chase nodded toward a glass-and-steel structure as they passed. “That’s the office building.”
It was across from a block of residential buildings, but none of it was familiar. That was a good thing because it meant they weren’t too close to Tyler’s apartment. Chase went up the boulevard, then turned and circled back.
“Thanks, Kid,” he said to the guy on the phone. Then he glanced at her. “Van’s on the move again. Ten more minutes.”
It took a few more minutes, but Chase found another spot for the car, this time beyond the office building. He left the engine running and unclipped his seat belt as he turned to her.
“I’m going to walk back toward the office. The van will be here soon. I’ll get the package and be right back. Don’t do anything. Don’t move. Don’t scream. Don’t get out of the fucking car. If something goes wrong, climb over the seat and drive. Don’t stop until you reach the airport.”
He took another phone out of his pocket, a burner he’d picked up for France. “There’s a number programmed in here. Call it when you reach the airport and Hawk will answer. He’ll get you home.”
She suddenly wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t dare. Instead, she took the phone and squeezed his hand. “Be safe, Chase.”