Intrigue in Geneva Episode 7

“Where is she?”

“Mon Dieu, he’s dead!”

“Where’s his wife?”

Dvora counted down another twenty seconds, took a deep breath, pulled open the door and raced down the corridor towards the back exit. The clock in her head ticked on. She didn’t have long: if she didn’t get out of the restaurant, she knew she’d be on her own. She prayed the kitchen porter hadn’t discovered the unlocked door. She tugged at the metal handle. It opened soundlessly. The white Mercedes sedan stood idling at the kerb. A surge of relief shot through her. They had waited! She broke into a run but as her feet hit the icy step, her legs flew from under her. She toppled backwards with a crash and the back of her head smacked hard against the icy concrete. She staggered to her feet, seeing stars and fighting back tears. She must get to the car.

The passenger door of the Mercedes flew open. Thick snowflakes whirled around her head, obscuring her vision. She couldn’t see clearly. Everything was out of focus. Something sticky ran down the back of her head. She stumbled again, willing her legs to carry her forward. The men in the car wouldn’t wait for her; she knew that. Those were the risks. She looked up. She could see bright white stars shining in the sky. But it was snowing, so how was this possible? Her vision blurred. Her legs buckled. Thick, inky blankness engulfed her.