They took the elevator to the lobby, David staying very close to her, every step she took. The comfort that gave her allowed her to concentrate on her speech. She’d emailed it to the teleprompter guy already, so all she had to do was remember to introduce herself.

“You’re going to be great, sweetheart,” David whispered in her ear, as they entered the auditorium in the conference center of the hotel. Probably about fifty percent of the audience had already taken their seats. She’d been to enough of these events to know where to sit and wait to be introduced. She opened her handbag to grab her index cards, which were now somewhat battered by their frequent use. David squeezed her shoulder and took a seat about ten rows back on the end, presumably so he could make a quick getaway if needed.

She recognized a minister from Egypt and the culture and antiquities minister from Greece as they took seats with their small entourages. The head of the British Museum was chatting to one of the curators from the Louvre. Several prominent archaeologists were present too, and that was what gave her the biggest thrill. Her peers coming to listen to her speak.

The room filled up quickly, and she concentrated on her notes. She’d written a new first card, one that the teleprompter guy hadn’t received, so she didn’t want to mess it up.

The director of the archaeology museum in Athens took the stand. “As you know, Dr. Solent, our speaker this evening, helped foil a company’s plan to loot an archaeological site and sell its artifacts on the black market. And in stopping this outrage, she uncovered years of illegal antiquity trading. She graduated from the University of Pennsylvania with degrees in archaeology and geology. She did her masters at the University of Chicago with a focus on Medieval Europe and her doctorate in archaeology at Oxford University with a focus on Ancient Greek texts.” The director paused and smiled. “I’m not at all saying that she is more qualified than me, but you will have to pry this job out of my cold, dead hands, Dr. Solent.” Laughter rippled through the auditorium. “Needless to say, she is uniquely qualified to speak to us today. So without further ado, I present Dr. Molly Solent.” He turned to her, joining in the applause, and walked from the stage.

She walked up and smiled at the audience. “Before I start, I’d like to pay tribute to Professor Alexandre Doubrov, a beloved fixture of our field’s conference circuit, a mine of information, and a willing sharer of his vast experience. He was killed yesterday, here in this hotel, and we have no idea why. Alexandre, you will be missed.” She paused for a few seconds before continuing.

“The worst thing about working in our field is the absolute knowledge that there are people who are willing to steal and trade the most valuable parts of our cultures. To rob citizens of the right to their own past and their own history. To rob scholars of the opportunity to study their countries’ legacy and to learn from it. It is both an intellectual and a physical crime.”

She held her audience rapt in her point of view. No one fidgeted, no one rustled papers, and no one looked at their watches. David felt inexplicably proud of the way she held herself on stage, how she kept their attention, and how she spoke with such passion. He looked around. He felt smug that he was almost certain that he was the only one present who had experienced all of her passion. Jesus. Even thinking about her gave him a semi.

His phone vibrated in his pants, and he got up carefully and made his way to the door so as not to disturb anyone. Once the door was closed behind him, he answered it.

“Church.”

“David. How are things going there?” It was Baston, the owner of his company, and his boss.

“About as well as you would imagine,” he answered, not wanting to give anything away to the few people lingering in the lobby.

“I hear there’s been an arrest warrant issued by the Greek police. For your friend.” He said it almost casually, like he was telling them she’d been invited to a clambake.

“I did not know that. How long ago?” His heartbeat kicked up.

“An hour or so. I think the Greeks are under a lot of pressure from the Russians right now. Regardless, Church, this isn’t your fight. I’ve seen the footage, and it looks like she was into something.”

No kidding. David replayed the scene in his head. Molly trying to slip Doubrov some kind of note.

“You’ve seen the footage?” David winced. That meant he would have seen David go for Molly instead of his principal.

“Just come back immediately. I need you in the office tomorrow morning. You’re being reassigned. You have no backup there. Mal’s already deployed elsewhere. You haven’t officially gotten into any trouble yet, but associating with someone wanted for questioning in relation to an assassination, well that might just be pushing the limit. You get me?”

“I get you, sir. I have plans to be at the airport in a matter of hours.” He omitted that he was going with Molly, but at least that gave Baston plausible deniability.

“Good. See you in the morning.” He hung up.

David looked at his phone. He’d basically agreed to leave Molly. He glanced back at the door to the auditorium and heard people laugh. She must be rocking her speech.

This was the right thing to do. Put her on a plane out of Greece, away from her arrest warrants, and say goodbye. It was the best for her, and the best for him. He still needed to get himself on firmer ground. But right now he had to get her away from the hotel before the police came. Christ, couldn’t they have a minute without having to run and hide from someone?

He slipped back into the auditorium, in time to see Victoria enter from the opposite side. They met each other’s eyes, nodding acknowledgment. She took a seat at the back, and David took his original seat.

Molly was showing a slide of a woman depicted in a mosaic, as David planned their escape. He’d get the bellboy to pull David’s SUV to the back of the hotel. He figured that at least some people would know exactly where Molly was, so time was of the essence. It wasn’t like her speech hadn’t been on the G20 agenda for months.

Applause startled him out of his plan. Molly stepped away from the podium and nodded, smiling at the crowd. She stepped down from the stage and headed toward him. He jumped up and opened the door for her. “We’ve got to go now. They’ve issued a warrant for your arrest.

“What? Why?” she asked trying to keep up with him.

“Don’t. Just don’t pretend you don’t know what this is about, okay? Not with me anyway.” He turned away to pick up both their wheeled suitcases from the bellboy, slipping him a twenty-euro note and the car keys before asking him to drive it around the back entrance.

“Come on,” he said striding toward the doors that took them down to a kind of loading lobby and out to the back door. He dropped the cases outside the sliding doors and they waited.

“Here,” David said, nodding toward the approaching SUV and picking up the bags.

A flare lit under the car, and in front of his eyes, the whole vehicle exploded with a white-hot blaze.

Boom.

He dropped the bags and grabbed Molly to shield her from the heat of the blast, pushing her back through the doors and turning his back to the explosion. Glass and burning material showered down around them, but David’s mind was already working at a hundred miles an hour.

It wasn’t a firebomb. It was an expertly placed explosive device, designed to totally annihilate anyone sitting inside. The whole vehicle had been destroyed. No chance for the bellboy. Someone definitely wanted them dead.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sirens sounded, and people came running around the corner into the alleyway. Her ears were still ringing, and the skin on her arms was red where the heat from the blast had hit them.