14The altar candles wavered. Cold air moved across my face, the room so vast it had its own wind currents, unrelated to any predawn breezes swirling about beyond the stone walls. Unrepentant and nonconfessing, I lurked in a side chapel of the largest Gothic church in the Low Countries, waiting to keep the bargain I’d struck with Erika and van Hoof. Waiting for Stefan to give me his reading on what was happening.
Never mind the Herculean efforts they’d both expended to keep me and Stefan apart. They were so desperate to overcome my objections, they’d decided to hazard our meeting.
Their idea, not mine. I’d told them further talk was futile. Sure, I wanted to prevent the next bombing. I wanted that information as much as van Hoof and Erika did. But I couldn’t get it. I’d played the deal-ma
