As far as national bugaboos go, most conspiracy theorists would list the CIA as the most threatening organization officially sanctioned by any government on Earth. Sure, true-blue American patriots might go with the KGB – but the KGB is gone, a relic of the Communist past, now rolled into some other agency. The CIA is still alive and kicking. In the last five decades, you’ve got multiple ventures to overthrow other countries’ democratically elected administrations… collusion with drug traffickers to fund arms deals for foreign paramilitary groups… and assassination plots up the wazoo. Not to mention the roving torture ‘black sites’ used by the U.S. in Iraq and Afghanistan.Allegedly.Pretty scary, right?For my money, though, the NSA is scarier, because it’s the biggest global intelligence agency on the planet.The CIA is only supposed to work internationally. They can’t legally do anything on American soil, and they only concern themselves with foreigners.Not so the NSA. Their ter

I open my eyes the next morning. For a second, I can’t help wondering if last night was real.It seems real enough. My body retains the pleasant ache of having him inside me, the slight soreness of our passion. And my heart feels twice as big, as though it is stretched to overflowing with happiness.I turn around in the bed. Grant is just a few feet away and still slumbering.I lie there for a moment, smiling and watching him sleep. I replay the scene from last night in my head, and luxuriate in the joy it brings me.But, if I’m going to be honest… I am harboring a wisp of fear, too.Did he mean it? Or was he just saying it because we were in the heat of the moment?After all, it’s only been… I count in my head. Monday he hired me, Tuesday was the art gallery and skyscraper, Wednesday was Connor and Lily, yesterday we got to Paris, this is Friday morning – Jesus, has it only been four days since he walked into my office in LA?!It’s been six days since I actually met him – but seei

“What is it?” Grant asks.“I call my police friend again, he does not answer. Then I call Luc – the contact for the guns – but he does not answer, either.”Grant shrugs. “Maybe he got drunk last night. Maybe he’s sleeping it off somewhere.”“No. I call the cousin of Luc, who works with him selling guns. He tells me Luc is dead.”We stare at JP. Besides obviously being bad news, the timing is a little too coincidental.“…quoi?” Dominique asks in disbelief.“There are men now in Paris searching for illegal gun sellers. These men find them, ask questions, torture them, sometimes kill them.” JP pauses, then says shakily, “They killed Luc.”Grant stands up. “Shit – did Luc know where you live?”“Non.”“Anything else about you they could have gotten out of him?”JP looks stricken. “He has my phone number.”“Shit,” Grant mutters, then turns to me. “If they have JP’s phone number, what’s the chances they can find us?”I hesitate. “If they have any sort of law enforcement connections, then th

We take a taxi and get to the restaurant in Montmartre 30 minutes later. JP has euros to pay with, so that’s no problem.We go to the rear entrance in the alley. After knocking on the back door, a fat man with a waxed mustache hustles us inside. He and JP speak rapidly in French, and then JP introduces us. “Marcel, Eve. Eve, Marcel.”I shake Marcel’s hand, after which he takes us upstairs to a small room with wooden tables. It looks like an overflow section of the restaurant, but it’s deserted.“You are safe here,” Marcel says in English.“Thank you,” I say gratefully.JP pulls off his hoodie and says something in French. Marcel laughs.“What did you say?” I ask.“I told him to burn it for me,” JP answers.I glare at him. “I wish I were that lucky.”Marcel asks, “Would you like a change of clothes?”“Oh my God, yes, PLEASE.”He smiles. “I will get one of my workers to take care of that for you.”“Do you have internet access here, by any chance?”“Of course.” He writes out the wifi net

Grant is predictably furious.“What the FUCK?! Why didn’t you TELL me?!”“Uh, hello?! We were kind of busy getting shot at and separating into two groups and running through catacombs and shit!”“You didn’t tell us when we came in here!”“I forgot until just now when I was in the bathroom!”He looks like he’s about to start pulling his hair out. “How could you forget about something like that?!”“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I was overjoyed to find out the man I’m in love with isn’t dead?!”Grant doesn’t have a comeback for that one. He just stands there clenching his jaw.JP hunches over in his chair and puts his hands over his eyes like, Ten million dollars is SO not worth this.Dominique looks wary, like she’s watching and waiting to see if this new development is a danger to her plans.“Look,” I say with a sigh, “all I want to do is contact Mailin and find out what he knows. Maybe he can give us some information.”“Or maybe your little high school buddy led Epicurus to our door