"Good afternoon," she said.
"And to you. Are you both on the line?"
"Yes," Marie said.
"Good. I thought you'd be interested in this, Marie, given some of your history in the Middle East. I have some news on the two men who staked out Vengeance."
"You said they had gone ashore," Liz said.
"They were followed to an Algerian restaurant that's popular with the Arab community in Fort-de-France."
"I didn't know there was such a community," Liz said.
"It is small. They are mostly wealthy, well-connected people whose families have been in Martinique for many generations," Marie said. "Most don't think of themselves as anything other than Martinicans, but since the '70s there has been some interest in developing a Muslim identity, especially among the young, and among a few refugees from the Middle East. A Mosque was built in recent years, funded by the Saudis."
"Right," Phillip said. "These two left the restaurant almost immediately with a man who is connected to a wealthy Palestinian family; they disappeared into a family compound, and they haven't come out. That was a few hours ago."
"Whose compound?" Marie asked.
"We'll know soon."
"What does that mean to us?" Liz asked.
"I'm not sure," Phillip said, "but at the least, it means that Lanjwani's not alone in this venture. Clarence's guys are still working on figuring out what these two are up to now. He'll keep us up to date.
"Meanwhile, his analysts have been at work on the material from the briefcase. Jean-Luc uploaded scans. So far, it looks like a sizable percentage of the elected officials in St. Lucia were on that list of payoff recipients. We're not talking small change, either."
"What about the blackmail material?" Liz asked.
"There's overlap, but not a hundred percent. Cedric's boss was on both lists."
"Ouch," Marie said. "Have you told him?"
"Not yet. We'll have to tell him, and soon, but the DEA and the DHS are into it; they'll be making the decisions on what to do with the material. We don't want to get Cedric caught up in it before they've made their decisions."
"I don't like the sound of that," Liz said. "We can't let them decide to keep that kind of thing to themselves and take over manipulating poor little St. Lucia."
"That's not going to happen," Phillip said. "There's another U.S. three-letter organization involved that's working under the State Department's mandate. They'll maintain the balance, while the others put the crooks where they belong. The powers that be are sensitive to not toppling the elected government of a friendly country."
"Okay," Marie said. "Back to Liz's question. We're still planning to close in on Lanjwani tonight."
"I thought as much. What's your objective?"
"Two things," Liz said. "First, we're going to ask him what he knows about Dani and how he got her mixed up in this mess. I want that recorded, so that she's in the clear as far as this beach bum's murder is concerned."
"And the second thing?"
"There are six terrorists who need to be put to sleep," Marie said.
"Have you spoken with Clarence about that?" Phillip asked.
"Yes, of course." Marie said. "His contacts would prefer that those men disappear with no fanfare. Nobody wants to lock them up; nobody thinks they have any worthwhile information."
"What about Lanjwani?" Phillip asked.
"Him, they want alive. They have some questions for him."
"Think you can get what Liz wants out of him and leave him intact?" Phillip asked.
Marie laughed, an almost girlish, giggling sound, except that it had a spine-chilling quality that Liz picked up, mostly because of the look on Marie's face.
"I want to turn him over to the locals," Liz said. "That's the only way to be sure that we clear Dani's — "
"I cannot agree to this," Marie interrupted. "We have accepted the mission to carry out an extraordinary rendition. He is to be turned over to DHS."
"Sorry, Marie, but I wasn't party to that agreement. You get Clarence to negotiate a change, or you can get on the next plane back to Martinique and I'll handle it myself."
"You cannot," Marie said, her face flushing.
"I'm not going to argue with you, Marie. I'm the one who's going to beard the lion in his den; they know my face. I'm the only one who can get inside their defenses."
"You will die without our support."
"Or maybe with it; there's no guarantee. But I won't go except on my terms. Without me, you'll have nothing."
Liz watched the muscles jumping in Marie's jaw. The silence in Kayak Spirit's saloon was thick, palpable. The soft background hiss from the encrypted satellite phone was the only sound.
"What about the six terrorists?" Marie asked, through clenched teeth, breaking the tension.
Liz smiled. "What about them?"
"Do you care what happens to them?"
"No. Kill them on the spot, if you want. Same with any other vermin we find. I'll even help, if they get in my way."
"Okay," Marie said, after a moment.
Liz heard a sigh and realized she'd been holding her breath. "Okay, what?"
"Okay, we do it your way. I understand why you do this," Marie said. "You are a brave woman. Dani is lucky for having a friend like you."
"You'll talk to Clarence, then?"
"No. It is too complicated for a man and there is not enough time."
"Then how — "
"I know how to make this happen, Liz," Marie said, smiling for the first time since their contretemps. "Phillip?"
"Yes. I thought you'd forgotten me."
"No. Sandrine is right about you."
"What?"
"You are the wise man, who does not mix in the business of women. We need your help, now."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Call Cedric. I need a warrant from St. Lucia for the arrest of this Lanjwani, naming me as the arresting officer, so he’ll need to deputize me."
"How is that going to — "
"Wait, please. Also, I need him to assign his very best undercover policeman to assist me in executing the warrant. This must be someone that he trusts with his life, someone who can keep his mouth shut about what he sees and hears."
"Okay. His nephew is a detective, but what are you doing? Cedric will have to know."
"Yes. We will arrest this Lanjwani and question him about the murder. This will be recorded on video, and I will ensure that it is admissible as evidence. Liz and I and Cedric's man can testify to the truth of this, yes?"
"Okay, but what about Clarence's agreement with ... well, whoever it's with?"
"We go only one step, and then another, okay? We cannot know the future. Many things are possible. This Lanjwani, he is, how you say, a 'slippery one,' I think. It is possible that he might escape after we have recorded his testimony, but we must not speculate on this. Especially, you must not let Cedric think this could happen."
"You can't let him go," Liz said.
"No," Marie said, an impish smile on her face. "He may escape, but he will certainly be recaptured, after this policeman leaves with his precious video recording, yes?"
"But — " Liz said, but Marie cut her off.
"He will be recaptured in international waters. I am sure of it. What will happen to him then, no one can say."
"It could work," Phillip said.
"It will work. I have no doubt. Thank you, Liz."
"Thanks? Me? But I ... "
Marie cracked a genuine smile. "You make me do my best work. This solves some big problem maybe, that I had chosen to ignore."
"How?"
"We have a legal arrest, by local authorities, in St. Lucia. No feathers to be ruffled by an extrajudicial kidnapping in their waters. Everyone wins."
Chapter 25
Hamid Lanjwani looked at his watch for the third time in the last five minutes. Irritated, he picked up his throwaway cellphone and placed a call to Rashid. The call went to voicemail, as had h
is previous calls.
His resources were limited with Samir gone and Rashid out of touch. He hesitated to involve Sairah, but he dared not leave the six jihadis here unsupervised. Without Samir or Rashid, he had no one to keep the terrorists in line. His remaining people were workers, not fighters. The jihadis were rough men; he feared what might happen in his absence.
He called the landline number at his home; he had never allowed Sairah to have a cellphone. Her parents, although practicing Muslims, had raised her in the permissive, western environment of St. Lucia. He was still training her to behave as a proper Muslim wife.
"Hamid Lanjwani's residence," he heard.
"Sairah?"
"Yes, my husband?"
"Is Rashid there?"
"No. I thought he was with you."
"He is supposed to be at the apartment, but he doesn't answer the phone. I thought perhaps he had gone to the house for lunch."
"He isn't here. I can go up to the apartment, if you wish."
"Yes, I wish. Have him call me immediately." He disconnected the call, holding the phone in his hand, his thumb poised over the green button as he watched the seconds tick by on his wristwatch. After two minutes and 15 seconds, the phone rang. Lanjwani checked the caller i.d. before he pressed the connect button, relieved that it was Rashid's cellphone.
"Ayreh feek, ya kalb! You are more worthless than your brother — " The shriek from the phone, its pitch feminine, cut off his rant. "Sairah?"
"They are dead, Hamid! You must come at once. It is horrible; my little brother wears the face of a pig, and his blood is everywhere. Come home, wherever you are."
Lanjwani clenched his teeth. "Do not give me orders, woman! I will punish you later. I am too busy now."
"I'll call the police while I wait, but you must — " He disconnected the call and picked up the satellite phone. He had no choice but to call the man in Martinique; he needed reinforcements to deal with Chirac, and time was growing short.
"Yes, Lanjwani. You are as troublesome as an infidel woman. What do you want this time?" the man called The Sheik asked.
"Effendi, my men have been murdered; Chirac is bringing the passports, and I have your six men safe, but I need two trusted fighters to pick up Chirac and bring her to me. I have no one I can trust to guard your six; I must stay with them in case someone comes. Your men will not — "
"When is Chirac going to arrive?"
"Not before tonight, she is — "
"I will have two men there within an hour; they will arrive in Rodney Bay by boat. You have someone to meet them at the marina and bring them to you. You will tell them where and when to pick up the woman. Your hideout, it is accessible by boat, yes?"
"Yes, effendi. How will — "
"They will be in a 50-foot Cigarette Marauder, with red and green paint. You and I will have a reckoning when the mission is complete, you fool. Do not make your situation any worse, do you understand me?"
"Y-yes, effendi. I — " Lanjwani realized that the call had been disconnected.
****
Liz studied the ponytail holder as it rested in her open palm. It looked ordinary enough, tasteful, but not flashy. The two-inch length of dark brown elastic cord was doubled and attached to a polished wooden ball about the size of a marble on each end.
"How does it work?" she asked.
"You see that the cord is knotted on one end, where it emerges from the wood?" Marie asked.
Liz nodded. "Yes."
"Grasp the knot with your fingers and twist the knob about a quarter of a turn to activate it."
"Now?"
"Yes. Go ahead." She waited until Liz had done it, then showed her an iPad that had an eight-millimeter-thick, snap-on black plastic case fastened to the back.
"The screen's blank," Liz said.
"Yes," Marie said. "The homing device is in the knob closest to the knot. The other knob has a magnet in it. When the two are touching, it will transmit. This is so that you can easily shut it off if someone is about to scan you for electronic devices — just pull it from your hair, and it goes inert. You can also do this to conserve the battery when you wish. Put it back and it will transmit again. Try it."
Liz brought the two knobs together, fastening the band around three fingers of her left hand. Marie stepped back a few feet, holding the iPad so that Liz could see the screen. In a few seconds, a white spot the size of a pencil eraser began to cycle on and off in the center of the screen. At the top of the screen, Liz saw "1.7 meters, 50 degrees," and an arrow which pointed to the upper right hand corner of the screen.
"That's slick; I had no idea it would work this close-in; GPS isn't that accurate."
"No, not civilian GPS. Anyway, this is like a GPS personal locator beacon, but it includes some more homing technology, and it works on a different set of frequencies."
"What's the range?"
"It varies. If it has a clear shot at the sky for the satellites, it's unlimited, but lots of things can block it. The homing device works on a lower frequency and is less susceptible to path blockage, but it is less precise, and its range is about a mile."
"Okay. How long does the battery last?"
"That's the big weakness; because the package is so small, the battery life is only a couple of hours when it's active."
Liz separated the two wooden knobs, and the screen went blank. "All right," she said. "If I twist the knot back, will it deactivate?"
"Yes."
Liz deactivated the tracker and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, snapping the elastic band in place.
"Don't forget to turn it on before you go."
"I won't."
"Are you still thinking you should take only one of the passports?"
"Yes. Otherwise, I'll look like a gullible fool. I've put it in here." Liz untucked the front of her shirt from the waistband of her shorts, revealing a flat, flesh-colored travel-document pouch that hung from her neck. "What do you think?"
Marie shrugged. "Sure. Why not? They're probably going to strip search you at some point, but maybe if you make it easy for them to find what they're looking for, it won't go too far too soon."
"On that subject, do you have a tiny pistol in your stash?"
"No, nothing smaller than a Glock nine-millimeter single-stack. Why bother with toy guns?"
"I wanted something ineffective, to make me look more inept - 'like a girl,' as Dani would say."
"I don't understand, Liz. They'll just take it from you, first thing."
"I'm planning on that. I'll take whatever you've got. I think not having a pistol would look wrong, but I want them to disarm me. Then they'll think I'm harmless."
"Ah! I get it." Marie grinned. "Helpless female, right?"
Liz smiled. "Something like that."
Marie nodded. "I am starting to see why Dani likes you; you are not like her. You are more subtle. Most of the times I have worked with you two, you were in the background."
"With Dani, everybody's in the background. I hope she's okay."
"She will be, but she would fare better if you could help her learn to think like a woman, more like you. She gives up some advantages, being so openly aggressive."
"That's Dani. We're working on it, but playing the weakling doesn't come easily for her."
"Not for any of us, but sometimes it is useful. What else do you need?"
"Nothing. I'm set, but it's too early to call Lanjwani. Tell me how you're going to cover me."
"Well, I have Jean-Luc and his team — five men, plus me. We will have to see how Lanjwani's people play this. Where do you plan to meet them?"
"He thinks I'm coming from Martinique. I'll tell him I'll call from the marina in Rodney Bay when I arrive."
"They will be watching, then. The flights arrive in Castries — the ferries, too. You must arrive at the marina by taxi."
"Unless I hire a boat from Ste. Anne."
"Yes. I like this." Marie looked at her watch. "There is time. I will arrange this, and we w
ill meet the boat in the Pigeon Island anchorage, yes?"
"You want to move Kayak Spirit out there?" Liz asked.
"No. We go soon, in the dinghy. I will arrive with you at the marina, but I will stay out of sight. The men from the boat can pretend to go up to the customs office in the marina; this will give them the good spot to watch what happens, from the balcony, yes?"
"Okay. That sounds good to me. It gives you some extra men, too."
"Yes. Jean-Luc will be with me in the go-fast boat. He will leave a team ashore, with a vehicle. Lanjwani will probably send a boat — it's more flexible. But he may not, so we will be ready to follow a car as well."
"Wow!" Liz said. "Glad you thought of that; I had it in mind earlier, but I'd forgotten."
"Not to worry. This is why two heads are best. You were covered, but more is better, like the Americans believe."
Liz watched as Marie sent a text message from her satellite phone. There was the ping of a response within seconds. Marie looked at the screen and nodded.
"It is arranged."
"I should make my call," Liz said, picking up the cellphone she had taken from Gorshani. "It will be dark enough in two hours, and that's a reasonable duration for the trip. I'll tell him I'm leaving Martinique now."
****
"She will arrive at the marina at about seven o'clock," Lanjwani said, watching the two men from Martinique. They sat across the desk from him, studying Chirac's picture, the one that Samir had made a couple of days before.
Lanjwani was put off by their stillness, their lack of affect. He waited for a reaction, studying the man who seemed to be the leader, the man with the shaved head. The man's head was tilted forward, affording Lanjwani a view of the intricate tattoo on his bare scalp. A dragon, Lanjwani thought, but the forked tongue of the beast became a pair of legs, shapely, draping over his forehead, ending in stiletto heels. After several seconds, neither man had moved.
"Do you understand what I — " Lanjwani froze, stunned by the look that the tattooed man gave him. Lanjwani looked away; the man's bloodshot eyes were flat, reptilian. He felt an involuntary tremor.
"Yes," the man hissed, the sibilance reinforcing the reptilian appearance of his dead eyes. "What do you want done to her after we retrieve the passports?"
Bluewater Jailbird: The Tenth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 10) Page 18