Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

eyes waiting. Angel‟s body grew
    tense as he spoke, and he began to chew on his nails. “They said they asked my
    mom for ransom money and she said no, but I think it was her boyfriend who said
    no and he never even told her.”
    The desperation in his eyes was pathetic. Kael stood up and pulled him close to
    his chest. During his debriefing at MI6 over the incident, he had confirmed that
    both Samantha Andresen and Gregoire St. Germaine knew about the ransom
    demand. The money was St. Germaine‟s, so technically the refusal had come from
    him, but Angel‟s mum had neither left the man nor made any attempt to contact
    Angel at that time or since.
    “What do you think, Daddy?”
    “You could be right.” He squeezed Angel tight. “Finish the dishes. It‟s already
    after seven o‟clock.”

    * * *
    They took a taxi to the Royal Opera House and got out at Bow Street. Angel

    had decided to stay in his school uniform to look smart and Kael had agreed it was a
    good idea. Angel straightened his tie while Kael paid the taxi driver. The theater
    was lit for an event. Kael looked at the billboard. The Barber of Seville was playing.

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    37

    It was the first opera he had ever seen on a school trip when he was at College
    Grange.
    Angel bit his lower lip, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he looked around.
    It was cold, the pavements wet from rain, but he didn‟t seem to notice.
    The street was busy with women in evening gowns and fur stoles and men in
    tuxedos arriving in taxis for a night at the opera. Out of habit, Kael scanned the
    area, but he and Angel were no longer in danger and he was no longer an operative.
    He saw the gleaming black Rolls Royce from half a mile away in thick traffic and
    knew it belonged to Gregoire St. Germaine. Angel did not spot the long, sleek car
    even when it pulled up outside the theater and, assisted by the uniformed driver, a
    woman got out in a shimmering evening gown, her smooth, dark hair in a
    sophisticated French roll. The stunning engagement ring and wedding ring set,
    expensive and understated, was the first thing that Kael‟s practiced eye settled on.
    Behind her, a man, tall and thin, the very image of the French aristocrat, emerged.
    Kael had seen only a couple of photographs of the woman, and none of them
    did her justice. She was beautiful. No wonder it was so easy for her to go from
    stripper to rich man‟s wife. “Angel, is that her?”
    “Oh my God. She looks so beautiful.” He looked up at Kael proudly. “Doesn‟t
    she, Daddy? Mom!” Angel skipped over to the couple while Kael stayed close behind.
    “You look so beautiful.”
    “Hi, Angel Gabe,” she said.
    There was an awkward moment when Angel opened his arms to hug her and
    she remained still, as if she was afraid to disrupt her carefully crafted appearance.
    Finally she leaned forward and kissed the air on each side of his cheeks without
    actually touching him. “How have you been, Angel? You remember Gregoire?”
    “Yeah.” He looked briefly at the Frenchman. “I‟m good. I go to college now.” He
    spread his arms to show off his school clothes. “Redmond Independent College. I‟m
    going to go to university.”
    “Good for you, baby.”
    She looked at Kael, assessing him, and her pupils dilated as she took in his
    build and handsome face.
    “Mom, this is Kael Saunders. He‟s my…” He looked up at Kael, unsure how to
    introduce him.
    Kael put his arm around Angel and drew him to his side. He wanted to protect
    him from this woman and all the harm she had done. “Angel lives with me now. I
    take care of him. He‟s in school. He‟s a very bright boy, and he works hard. He‟s
    doing well.”
    “Wonderful.” She looked at the aristocratic Frenchman. “Isn‟t that wonderful,
    Gregoire?”
    He smiled and then nodded very slightly at the theater door. He wanted to cut
    the meeting short.
    “Mom, did you know I was kidnapped last year?” Angel asked quietly.

    38
    Fyn Alexander

    “That was because of Sven.” She sounded defensive and snappish. “I had no
    idea what he was up to. I found out later about the guns.”
    “No, I know that, Mom. But did you know I was kidnapped by gunrunners?”
    “Yes,” she admitted.
    “Why wouldn‟t you pay them? They wanted to ransom me.”
    St. Germaine spoke for the first time; his English was impeccable, with only
    the slightest trace of accent. “It is never good to give in to terrorists.”
    Angel