I’mgetting the blankets situated on the cot when she comes out, wearing an oversized nightshirt.Iswallow, look up at the ceiling, and grasp for anything to think of to divert my mind, coming up blank.Ican’t be feeling so close toZoeemotionally right now and also let in thoughts about her legs.
Ilook down at the blanket on my cot.Wrinklesin the bedding.Ican focus on smoothing them.
“Ledger, you can have the bed.”
“Nope, it’s yours.”
“You’renot going to fit on that thing.”
Imeet her eyes and repeat with more conviction, “Thebed is yours.”
Shelooks like she’s going to argue, andI’malready thinking of what my responses could be, but for some reason, she just sighs, gets into bed, and turns off the light. “Goodnight,Ledger.”
“Goodnight,Zoe.”
She’sright.Ireally don’t fit on this cot.AndI’ma little nervous about turning over in the thing—I’mpretty sure it’ll either break or dump me on the floor ifIdo.Eventhough this isn’t the critter-filledCIAsafe house, the thought of lying on the cement floor makes me think of dozens of rats and cats all over it, living in peace.SoImostly stay still.
Severallong minutes go by andI’mnowhere closer to being asleep whenZoesays, “Ledger?”
“Yeah?”
It’squiet for a moment before she says, “I’msorry aboutMoldova.”
CHAPTER 15
THE ART OF DECEPTION
ZOE
Allmorning as we got ready in our small room and during the drive toSavovic’scastle,Ledgerhas been listening to the live streams thatTobiasRennert, the man that he will be impersonating, has posted on social media.He’lllisten to a part, then repeat it back, trying to nail the speech patterns and cadence ofTobias.Hehas gotten pretty good.Imight give him grief for not taking missions seriously enough, butIhave to give the man credit— he puts in the hard work it takes to convincingly impersonate someone.
Themansion’s grounds are bordered by an eight-foot-tall fence.Thebottom five feet are stone with cement pillars, and the top three feet are wrought iron.Butjust along the inside of the fence are enough trees and shrubs that it makes seeing the mansion itself nearly impossible.
Unlikelast time, when we parked by the rear entrance,Idrive to the front gate.Assoon as it opens, we go up thecurving cobblestone drive flanked by lush green grass and park in front of the mansion.
Ican tell thatLedgeris still sore from sleeping on the cot by the way he gets out of the car.Hewas looking especially sore as soon as he rolled out of bed this morning, but he hasn’t been willing to admit it.Hejust tries to cover it and says he slept great.But, expert in body language here, so it’s not likeI’mfooled.And,Irealize,I’vebecome quite the expert inLedgerhimself.
Hewas hoping to wear a t-shirt that said something likeHackersGonnaHack.OrTheDataWhisperer.OrIhave connections, with the ends ofHDMI,USB, andLightningcables.Orsomething likeHomeis where theWiFiconnects automatically.Butsince we are inBelgrade, all the local stores only had t-shirts with words written inSerbian.AndsinceTobiasis fromCanada, he opted for a medium-toned olive gray t-shirt with an artistic interpretation of a computer chip in gold.Ithink it fits today’s art theme better, anyway.
He’swearing a navy blazer over the shirt, slim-fit charcoal gray pants, modern and expensive-looking leather loafers, and an ultra-stylized smart watch.He’salso wearing a pair of state-of-the-art smart glasses, andIhave to admit that he looks rather attractive in them.
“Beforewe head back toTheSix,”Ledgersays as we walk toward the front doors, “stopping to drop a toonie or two for a double-double would be good, eh?”
Iroll my eyes and try to hide a smile as we step up onto the intricately patterned marble tiles of the porch, where stone columns rising to an arch that covers theporch area lead to the heavy oak doors.Pottedferns and exotic flowers sit on either side of the door, adding a bit of softness. “BeforeIknock, do you have any otherToronto-isms you need to get out of your system so you don’t hit them over the head with them?”
“Justone more.”Ledgercloses his eyes and tips his head up as he breathes in deeply.Thenhe opens his eyes and says, “Nowthisis patio weather.”
Iraise my hand to knock, but look over at him first. “Arewe good now?”
Hegives a nod and says, “Let’sgo make history.”
Iknock.
Amoment later,Milaanswers the door.Herface is welcoming at first and then shows a flash of surprise at seeing us before she puts her mask of hospitality back on.Ledgerholds out a hand and she shakes it. “Hello.I’mTobiasRennert, and this is my administrative assistant,KailaSonnenschein.”
“Hi.I’mMila,” she says in herSerbianaccent and then shakes my hand. “It’snice to meet you both.Comein.Youare here to meetElizaCholmondeleyfor your private showing, yes?Followme.”
Sheleads us down a long hallway and through a doorway to a big gallery with paintings on the walls and four-foot-tall pedestals spread throughout that each hold a piece of art.Myeyes immediately find theTrustpiece on one of them— it’s a ceramic sculpture with seven figures, each holding up the next in a circle, creating a self-supporting structure.
