“Mme. Mann will remain here.” She met my cold gaze with one equally frigid. “You see, I know how much your mother means to you.”
“Just remember how much my son means to me, Zhenshchina.” It was the woman who’d deciphered Russian codes who spoke, and icicles dripped from each word. “If for any reason he does not return safely—if he has so much as a broken fingernail—I will be the one leveling this building.”
Babineaux swallowed and gave a half-hearted smile. Femme nodded. After she put her gun away, Mother did the same.
“Mother—”
“Go, Quinton. There’s no need to worry about me.”
Rather than return my clutch piece to its ankle holster, I slipped it back into my jacket pocket. Then I went to her and hugged her. “Please stay safe,” I whispered in her ear.
“And you also.” She pressed her palm to my cheek. “Now, go find Mark.”