"NO WAY, DRAKE," Mischa braced herself. "Take another step and I pulled the trigger.499Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTEptgvY3v2
Drake blinked. Then his expression eased.
"Right then," he said. "I'm going to reach into my back pocket." His right hand was still raised with the gun. He showed her the palm of his other hand before it disappeared behind him. If he had some trick in store, it was probably at his mercy.
Because the truth was, if he wanted to kill Mischa, she'd already be dead. She may have tricked him initially with her diversion, the sleeping bag, but he'd managed to even the score in no time, and he seemed pretty comfortable with a handgun. It was still aimed at her face, and his hand hadn't budged one inch.
His left hand reappeared, holding a thick envelope. "For you, baby," he said.
She stepped back, keeping her gun pointed at him, just as his was pointed at her. "Drop it on the ground," she said.
"All right." He tossed it lightly into a pile of leaves.
"What is it?"
"A ticket," he said. "A flight departing this afternoon from Bordeaux-Merignac to Asuncion, Paraguay. There's also a passport, a credit card, and five hundred euros. You're an American named Audrey Becker. Though I'm sorry, I didn't realize you'd become a brunette. It suits you, by the way."
"I'm flying to South America?"
He nodded. "Extradition is tricky from there. Assuming they ever found you. We might have to move you to Brazil, Bolivia, maybe even Argentina eventually. But Paraguay is best for a start. Someone will meet you there and make sure you breeze through customs. I still have some friends around the globe."
Paraguay, South America. Freedom, he was saying. She didn't know anything about extradition from Paraguay to France. She surely couldn't take Drake's word for it, could she?
"By nightfall tomorrow," Drake said, "you'll be sipping tequila at the local Hard Rock Café."
"Why?" she asked. "Why are you doing this?"
"Becau...." Drake's voice choked off. It was a simple question, but he was struggling with it. Her eyes had adjusted enough for her to get a pretty good bead on his face, and she could see his eyes filling.
"I don't want anyone else to die," he said.
His emotion ignited something inside her. She felt rage and frustration rise like a fist inside her chest.
"Who did this?" she asked again. "And why? Tell me, Drake! Tell me why this had to happen!"
Drake backpedaled effortlessly, keeping the gun on her as he retreated.
"I've figured out most of it," she said.
"Even if you think you have," he answered, "you'll never be able to prove it."
"Then tell me everything, or I swear to God, Drake, I'll shoot you."499Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ24qvkK3g9r
Drake paused, then lowered his gun. "No, you won't," he replied. "You're not a killer, Mischa."499Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiJhNjrWO4s
"Damn you," she hissed, the tears falling now, every ounce of her being filled with poisonous rage. "Damn all of you!"499Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZYQySbQsSd
"Go to Paraguay and give yourself a chance," he said. "Or stay in France or die."499Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTI0dIEF7Pm
"Drake. Drake!" she screamed, but it was to no avail.499Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOdYbTHxQRU
Just like that, he'd fled into the shadows.499Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4IGR8hjVER
