by L. T. Ryan
“I came out here to help you, not to be an accomplice in a jewelry heist.”
“It’s not a jewelry heist, Mick. Sokolov was an evil man who committed horrible crimes. These diamonds were paid for by the blood of innocent people. Wouldn’t it be fitting for them to be put to good use? In honor of the people Sokolov terrorized. Are you saying they’d be better in his hands than ours?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. You’re trying to twist this around on me.”
“I’m not, but I just want you to think about it. With Sokolov gone, we can sell them. They’re worth fifty million dollars, Mick. Even on the black market. Don’t you realize what that means? The team. The mission. Your big idea. It’s all possible now. Fezz and Khat and Griff. Money will never be an issue. Ever. We’ll have the resources to help people who have nowhere else to turn, just like we envisioned.”
Blake swallowed hard. He wanted to feel repulsed by the suggestion. He wanted to be able to tell her that she had lost her mind. But his own brain had already started to rationalize the proposition. She was right about Sokolov. She was right about a lot of things.
Haeli flicked her head and shifted her eyes. The woman was back behind the counter. He wondered how long she had been standing there. And how much she had heard.
Blake took a sip of his coffee and looked out the window. He waited until the worker wandered off again.
“How?” He whispered.
“How what?”
“How did you guys pull this off?”
Haeli’s eyes widened, and her eyes welled. Something about the question had triggered her.
It took a moment, but she regained her composure.
“They didn’t know. Michael, Ricky, Chet. They never knew. It was only me.”
“But, I mean, how? You said Mossad was monitoring and the asset fled. How were you able to get a hold of them?”
“At the hotel, before we even left for the mine. I swapped them out for a handful of gravel and hid them in the room. Behind the baseboard, like in Vegas. Goldmann was acting squirrely. I—I don’t know. I started getting the feeling that he was up to something. I don’t know what came over me, but I saw an opportunity and I took it.”
“That was incredibly stupid.”
“It was. And I regretted doing it for the longest time. It was one of the reasons I left Techyon. I felt like I was losing my way. Like my moral compass was getting completely flipped upside down. Took me a little while to convince myself to go back to Botswana to get them. But I eventually did, and I came here and hid them in the safe deposit box. I regret what happened to my guys, beyond words, and I’ll have to live with what happened to them forever. But I no longer regret taking them. Not anymore. Not after seeing what Sokolov was capable of. What we’re going to do with this money will set everything right.”
Haeli didn’t get it yet. Nothing was ever going to set it right. No matter how many people they helped. No matter how much justice was served. It would never be enough.
Blake took both of her hands in his and rested them in the middle of the table. “Look, I don’t know what to think about all of this, but what’s done is done. There’s no changing it. At this point, it’s about moving forward.”
Haeli smiled. From the tapping of her shoes, he knew her knees were bouncing. A little dance she would always do when she was excited. “I knew you’d come around. Can we call the guys? Griff is going to lose his mind when we tell him. Tell ‘em to put in their papers. It’s finally on.”
“Slow down. We’ll sit down with them when we get back. See what they have to say about it. Right now, we need to focus on getting out of here.”
“How bad do you think it is?”
“You mean the exposure? Depends on what happened in there. Was the box under your name?”
“No, it’s anonymous. But I’m on camera.”
“Yeah, but there’s no crime in visiting your safe deposit box. As crazy as it sounds, the whole thing might line up perfectly. Sokolov’s remains will be identified, eventually. If we’re lucky, it will look like he was the bomber and he inadvertently blew himself up. I don’t know how I’ll explain it to Oli, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
“They’ll see I went with them to the vault.”
“So, they may end up looking to talk to you. If they can identify you. And if that happens, you’ll have a story prepared. They tried to take you hostage. We’ll figure something out. Anyway, once we’re home, it’s not likely they’ll track you down. Sokolov and his guy are known terrorists, they’re not going to look much further than that.”
“True. And the guard saw Nikitin tackle me when I was trying to escape. It fits the narrative.” Haeli paused. “Wait. The guard.”
“What about him?”
“He saw me with the remote. He saw me detonate it.”
“He saw you unlocking your car. That’s all.”
Haeli drifted into thought. No doubt, recounting the events, trying to tease out any details she may have forgotten. How could one look so angelic and so mischievous at the same time? There was an allure to her devilish side. It drew Blake in. If anyone else had pulled what she just did, he would have walked away in a heartbeat. But not with her.
“Ahhh. I’m so pumped up,” Haeli said. “I really, really can’t wait to see the look… On. Their. Faces.” Her speech slowed until each word popped out, one at a time, as if without her knowledge. Then her lips ovaled and her eyes became wider than Blake thought they could go. She pointed over his shoulder. He turned, expecting to see a ghost.
While they were talking, the German language talk show had been preempted by the news of the explosion. Blake expected to see live footage from the street. A montage of broken windows, flashing police lights, and crime scene tape. But instead, he saw a single image. A high-definition frame of surveillance video. Zoomed in on Haeli’s face.
Shit.
The German caption translated as “Wanted.”
Blake checked the counter. Thankfully, the woman wasn’t there to see it.
They listened to the commentary.
Haeli spoke over it. “They’re calling it terrorism. They’re saying I’m a terrorist. I knew it. It was the guard.”
Blake stood up and pulled on Haeli’s arm.
“We’ve gotta go. Right now.”
36
As Haeli slid across the back seat of the cab, Blake took out his phone and tapped the map application. He knew as soon as he got in, the driver would ask the obvious question. Where are you going? It was a question he didn’t yet have the answer to.
Blake climbed in and closed the door. There was an overpowering chemical fragrance. Some kind of air freshener, although he couldn’t imagine it being intentional.
From the screen, he picked a place at random. A city, close enough that the driver wouldn’t laugh at them, and far enough to be in a different local jurisdiction. Then they would pick up another ride, leap-frogging their way toward the border.
Lucerne.
It looked to be close. A half-hour away, he guessed. If that were the case, he didn’t think the driver would balk.
The man came out with the obligatory question. He spoke in German, but not well. Blake looked at the posted ID.
Andrej Milošević.
He was young, maybe thirty. Tall. So tall that his head almost touched the ceiling of the Toyota hatchback. He had a goatee, but it was mostly underneath his chin, with only a few follicles creeping up to the front.
“Do you speak English?” Blake asked.
“Yes, of course.” His English was better than his German. From his accent, he guessed he was from Serbia or somewhere in the Baltics.
“Great. We’re going to Lucerne.”
“Lucerne? Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“But it will cost four hundred or five hundred. We charge for the trip back to Zurich, too. I will take you, but you know you can take the train for thirty.”
This was a first
. They had found the most honest cab driver in the world.
And he was right. It was cheaper and probably just as quick to go by train. In fact, they wouldn’t have to stop at Lucerne. They could get clear out of the country.
The problem was, they would run the risk of being recognized. Police were probably already swarming the stations, and Haeli’s face was all over the media. Andrej clearly hadn’t seen the news.
“That’s all right. We’ll pay,” Blake said. “When we take the train, my wife just complains the whole time that it’s uncomfortable and there are too many people.”
Haeli covered her mouth with her fingers. He wondered if she found amusement in the idea that she was a complainer, or that he had called her his wife. If he was being honest, it kind of felt good flowing off his lips.
“What address?”
Blake poked at the screen and called off the random address that popped up. He hoped it wasn’t a police station.
Andrej put the address into his GPS and pulled out. They were underway.
Normally, Blake liked to have a broader plan. Several steps already lined up. But the shock of seeing the bulletin had forced them to act quickly if they had any chance of finding a taxi driver who didn’t know who she was.
Because criminals move freely between countries, European nations rely heavily on Interpol. Contrary to the myths propagated by Hollywood movies, Interpol has no agents, nor any power to arrest. The organization essentially manages information, allowing it to be shared between the law enforcement communities of member countries, much the way the FBI’s NCIC database unifies information in the United States.
A ‘Red Notice,’ as it’s called, is basically an international APB. A request by one jurisdiction that a suspect be held if located by another jurisdiction. Typically, the record includes name, date of birth, and other identifiers. In Haeli’s case, the authorities didn’t have this information. But it didn’t mean they were in the clear.
For an incident of this type, classified as domestic or foreign terrorism, it was a good bet that Haeli’s picture had already been disseminated to all one hundred and ninety-four countries who participate. Including the United States.
It was also a good bet that it was on the radar of non-law-enforcement agencies. The kind Blake once worked for. The kind he’d like to avoid at all costs.
“Are you on vacation?” Andrej asked.
“Yeah,” Haeli said. “It’s our first time here. We just love it.”
“What will you see in Lucerne?”
“We thought we’d find a place on the lake, do a little hiking, you know, see the sights. Like the Chapel Bridge, I hear that’s cool. Oh, and that cog-wheel train up the mountain. Definitely. Have you been?”
Blake was glad Haeli had taken over the conversation. Beside the fact that he hated small talk, she sounded like she knew what she was talking about. He, on the other hand, did not.
“Yes, I have, of course. More when I was young. My father would take us when we first moved here from Serbia.”
Serbia. Nailed it.
“That sounds great, Andrej.”
Blake took Haeli’s hand and settled in for the ride. It had only been a few minutes, but he was hopeful that Andrej had exhausted his small talk repertoire. He needed some quiet to think. In forty minutes, they would need to make another move.
Andrej pulled the car over to the side of the road, in front of a “k kiosk” convenience store, which occupied a standalone building, belonging to a different century.
“What’s wrong?” Blake asked.
“Nothing is wrong, only I have to use the bathroom. Very quickly. Is that okay?”
“We’d really like to get there before it gets too late. Are you sure it can’t wait?” It was hard to make a case for the rush. Haeli had already indicated they had nowhere to be.
“It’s okay. I’ll hurry. I know the owner here. I can use the bathroom. Two minutes.”
What were they going to say? No? Not that it mattered, anyway. Andrej hadn’t waited for the answer before slamming the door and darting off toward the store.
“Don’t encourage him,” Blake said.
“I’m just being polite.”
“I know. I just don’t want him to get too nosy. Before you know it, we’ll have to keep track of a whole backstory about your sister’s Aunt Suzy, who went to school in Zurich.”
“I kinda like the story. Never been a wife before.”
“Yeah, I thought you might have got a kick out of that. But somehow I doubt this is your first wife cover story.”
Haeli laughed. “I couldn’t even begin to count them.”
“Did you ever think about it, for real?”
“What? Getting married?”
“Yeah, I mean did you ever think, ‘I could see myself settling down one day’?”
“Not really, have you?”
Blake shrugged. “I don’t know. It was never really an option for me. Not with what I did for a living.”
“I guess I just don’t understand why people want to. I mean, it’s a piece of paper. It means nothing. Doesn’t change anything. Right? Anyway, why do you ask?”
“Just rambling. Wondering if the internationally wanted cat burglar and secret weapon of war had any dreams of domestication in her youth, that’s all.”
“Do I look domesticable?
“I’m not even sure that’s a real word. And no, you don’t.” Blake looked at his watch. “What’s taking him so long.”
“Maybe it wasn’t number one.”
“Number one? Really? What, are you in preschool?” He gave his best five-year-old impression, facial expressions and all. “Ha ha. He had to do the dookies.”
Haeli laughed. “I’m just sayin’. Who picks up a fare knowing they have to pee?”
“True. Unless…”
Unless he didn’t have to.
It had been too long. Something wasn’t right. Had Andrej recognized her? Were they sitting there waiting to be captured?
“Come on.” Blake opened the door. “We’ve gotta leave. This isn’t right.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Just—come on.”
Blake got out. Haeli followed. They started walking.
“Keep moving.” Blake looked over his shoulder. “Do you see that parking garage up there? When we make it there, we’ll cut through. There’s usually an exit on the other side. For now, just walk normally.”
“You sure he’s just not using the bathroom?”
“At this point, it’s not worth the risk. If he’s not, we should be hearing sirens real soon.”
No sooner did the words come out of his mouth, he heard the wail of a siren in the distance.
“Never mind,” Blake said. “Run.”
They took off toward the parking garage. When they reached it, he looked back at the taxicab, still idling in the street. They weren’t there yet.
Through the ground level, they weaved between the parked cars, heading for the opposite exit as soon as they found it.
The sirens warbled closer. Three, four, maybe more.
They peeked out the other side of the garage.
“Cops.”
They retreated and stepped behind a concrete pillar.
The police car flew past, the doppler effect winding the siren up and down.
“Now.”
They darted across the street and between two buildings. Ahead, there was light at the end of the narrow alley. A street.
Another police car flashed by the gap. This time in the opposite direction.
“They already know we’re on foot.” Blake pushed Haeli along. “They’re searching the area.”
“We should get back to the garage, get into one of the cars.”
“No, too close. They’ll be all over that place.”
They reached the next street. Blake poked his head out. It looked clear.
“Go.”
Across the street, they slipped into what looked like another al
ley between two apartment buildings.
Only it wasn’t.
What looked like a separation between two different buildings was actually a design element. An indentation which jogged inward only twenty feet or so. Straight ahead, an electrical box filled the space from side to side, rising to just below an apartment window. They had cornered themselves into a ten story, three-sided box.
“Get down.” Haeli dropped to a pushup position, then lowered herself flat.
Blake followed suit, just as the police car whizzed by.
The frenetic pace of the search was working to their advantage. If the officer, or officers, had slowed it down, methodically checked either side of the street, laying down or not, they would have been caught out.
“There’s a street about fifty yards to the left. We’re going to have to pick our moment and make a break for it.”
“We’ll be way out in the open.”
“I know, but we can’t stay here. This position is indefensible.”
Haeli rolled onto her back and levered herself onto her elbows. “What about the window? That one. It’s already cracked open. I say we go in through there.”
“And if someone’s home?”
Haeli sighed. “Then we’ll figure it out. Unless you’ve got a better plan?”
He didn’t.
Haeli sprung up onto the electrical box and pushed the window all the way open. She leaned her head and shoulders inside for several seconds, then back out again.
“A kitchen,” she whispered. “I don’t hear anyone. I’m going in.”
Haeli climbed through. A big cat, sneaking up on its prey.
Blake did the same. A round peg in a square hole.
Pressing his lips against Haeli’s ear, he barely emitted a sound. “Get to the hallway, find the stairs and get to the roof.”
She nodded.
From the kitchen, there was a hallway. The first opening on the left was a living room. Inside was what looked like the main door.