An armored truck was stopped on the second block of Cedar. An armed guard stood at the back of the truck. Another armed guard, carrying a white bakery bag and four cups of coffee in a cardboard box, stepped out of a shop and moved toward the truck.
Riley stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Tell me that isn’t our ride.”
Emerson took her hand and tugged her forward. “I’m told it’s quite comfortable inside.”
“No way. No how. I am not getting into that armored truck.”
The back doors to the truck opened, the man carrying the coffee got inside, and two men in black Kevlar vests sprang out.
Someone inside the truck called out, “Good morning, Emerson.”
“Good morning, Wesley,” Emerson replied.
The two men in Kevlar scooped Riley up and swept her into the truck. Emerson followed, and the doors were slammed shut. When Riley lunged for the door handle, one of the men attempted to restrain her and she kneed him in the groin.
The man yelped and doubled over. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell her about this part of the plan,” he said to Emerson.
“Actually…no,” Emerson said.
The truck lurched forward, and Riley put her hand to the door to steady herself. “This truck had better be taking me to Washington, D.C.,” she said. “And what’s under the blanket in the middle of the truck? Have you boxed up another kidnap victim?”
A man leaned out from the shadows. “I’m Wesley Bachoo, Ministry of Finance and Economic Development of the Sovereign Republic of Mauritius. Allow me to put your mind at ease.” He stepped forward, pulled the blanket off the cargo, and revealed a small stack of gold bricks. “This is part of the treasury of the Republic of Mauritius.”
“Lovely to meet you,” Riley said. “I’m Riley Moon of Blane-Grunwald. Sorry I kneed your guy in the groin. I might have overreacted.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Wesley said. “You were caught by surprise. Still, it’s very good of you to help set Emerson’s mind at ease that his gold is secure. I know this is something of a covert operation, so our lips are sealed. However, I will make sure your employer understands that we are favorably impressed with your assistance in all matters. After all, we owe Emerson a huge debt. He was instrumental in discovering who was responsible for putting ricin in the prime minister’s morning coffee and nearly killing him. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Knight, we might have gone to war over it.”
“Was it a terrorist organization?” Riley asked.
“No. It was our prime minister’s wife,” Wesley said.
“They were having marital problems,” Emerson said.
“No doubt,” Riley said. “What happened to them?”
Wesley smiled. “They went to couples therapy. They’re doing fine now.”
“Good to know,” Riley said. “Attempted murder is something a lot of couples can’t get past.”
She looked at the rearview monitor attached to the wall and saw that they’d picked up a police escort.
“I don’t suppose they’re here to rescue me,” Riley said.
“They’re a courtesy afforded to us by the city,” Wesley said.
Riley sucked in her anger. Get a grip, she told herself. Punching Emerson in the face won’t make the situation any better.
“We’re going into the Federal Reserve vault, aren’t we?” she said.
“We are.”
“Why?”
“Mauritius is making a deposit,” Emerson said. “And I’m going to look around.”
Damn! “Okay. We’re going to look around and then we’re going to leave, right?”
“Absolutely.”