“I don’t have much time,” she said.
“Interpol is looking for more information about you. Did something happen to blow your cover?”
She exhaled slowly and then gave him a quick summary of how Jonathon had abducted her and she’d been freed by Sebastian and his friends. She wrung her hands as she told him about Jonathon, knowing how much he hated the man.
“You want to abort the op?”
“No way.”
Silence.
“Anubis wants what I’ve got. He…Wait.” The beep noise of a text arriving on her street phone stopped her. She pulled it out of her pocket. “Remember- tonight 6pm in front of Central Station.”
She exhaled. “Jeremiah,” she said into the phone. “I just got a text message confirming the meet tonight.”
“Proceed with caution.”
“Back-up?”
“George is on the train from Brussels. He’ll watch from a distance unless you signal him to move in.”
“Good.” She’d been through many difficult situations with George and she could trust him.
“Before you hang up.”
“I gotta go.” She started hopping on one foot as she peeled off her leggings.
“There’s more to Sebastian than meets the eye. He may act like a regular guy, but he’s a sharp business man and street wise. Don’t underestimate him.”
More than meets the eye? Tell me about it. She looked at the phone waiting for more. Jeremiah clicked off.
25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Five minutes past five, she headed down to Central Station to meet with the man from Anubis. With each step, she reviewed and refined her plan, visualizing the exchange going as smoothly as possible. Brown elm blossoms floated in the soft spring breeze to the ground clustering in piles on the narrow cobble stoned streets and forming clouds on the surface of the canals. Everywhere she looked she saw the blossoms that looked like leaves. They call it Amsterdam’s spring snow.
People walking and cycling home from work filled the medieval streets. Bicycle bells rang and groups of friends chatted on corners with that relieved end-of-day look on their faces. The smell of fresh baked bread wafted from a bakery and the sun reappeared to warm her face.
George hadn’t showed up yet, but she counted on him getting into place in time. She scanned the horizon. The crowds thickened as she neared the station. She checked her phone—5:30. Almost there.
Sebastian would wait for her tonight. The image of the man with his sun streaked hair and wicked smile flickered through her mind making her world tilt. Their chemistry couldn’t be denied. She’d read him in and then see how he felt about her after that. Most men would run, but there wasn’t anything ordinary about Sebastian. He might just have the balls to stay.
Maybe he’d still want to see her, maybe he wouldn’t. If nothing else, the information would keep him out of her way. Jeremiah hadn’t given her the green light, but she’d do it anyway.
A pigeon flew by her shoulder and she stopped for a minute. She’d never broke protocol before. Never dared. But Sebastian needed to be dealt with. The intensity of whatever it was connecting them deserved that.
Then, she’d have to figure what to do about Mitchell. After the shoot, which went without a hitch, he left to sulk in his room. She never did learn how he talked Knickers into giving them another chance. Eventually she’d forgive him, but she didn’t see how their friendship could ever be the same. She smiled as she remembered the last time they’d gone to a comedy club together and laughed the night away. He’d been such a good companion for so many years and then Jonathon got to him. The bastard.
Jonathon. She hadn’t heard anything from Sebastian’s friends, but she didn’t expect to. As soon as the op ended she’d be on the phone to Jonathon’s mother and that would be a conversation she’d remember to her dying day. She smiled.
Still no sign of George. She walked on.
When she crossed over the bridge to the station, which sits on three man-made islands on the river Ij, she saw him. George, a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, but was at least a decade older, stood on the west side of the entrance in a casual hanging out stance holding a well-used longboard, looking like one of a million young American tourists. Tall and gangly, he wore a Led Zepplin shirt and faded blue jeans ripped in the knees. His long black hair had been pulled back into a pony tail and he hadn’t bothered shaving for a couple of days.
She checked her cell phone. 5:45.
Nothing and no one looked out of place. A quarter million people passed through this station every day and as she could feel the throb of the crowd like a pulse that increased with proximity.
The enormous building was made of red and yellow bricks, a neo-Renaissance structure with impressive spires. The outside looked a bit like a castle, but inside its formidable walls was a sanctum of Dutch efficiency and business.
A pick-pocket slid through the tourist groups. She tightened her grip on her purse. The smell of people sweaty from a day of work or travel stifled the air. Sounds of car horns from frustrated drivers trying to negotiate the heavy traffic behind her and people talking filled her ears.
Would Bakari al-Sharif send the same messenger? She checked her cell again, 5:50.
He hadn’t been punctual the first time. Could be his thing. Her chest tightened. Two fingers…two of Delilah fingers. Anubis was not a man to be toyed with.
“Lady.” The voice came from behind her.
Turning she saw the man she’d seen on the motorcycle the day before. She stared at him for a moment and then took a deep breath. “I want to talk to your boss,” she said.
He lowered his aviator glasses and stared over them. Only once before had she seen such cold flat eyes. They had belonged to a ruthless mercenary. He laughed at her, and the sound held a menacing tone that iced the air between them. A distinct odor of garlic assaulted her nose.
Her heart froze for a second. Pulling out of her bag the package with the Ancient Egyptian scarab wrapped inside, she said, “Here it is.”
He reached for it, but she pulled back. “I need more work.” And I sure as hell don’t want you to be my go-between.
“Give me the package and we’ll be in touch.”
She handed it to him. Without another word he turned and vanished into the thick crowds. 6:05.
As she walked back to the town, that inner-trembling she experienced after a critical moment in an op when so much is at stake and so many things could go wrong eased. Staying alive in her business depended on wise planning, good eyes and a hell of a lot of luck. She lost sight of George following her after the first five minutes.
Time to go home and wait. The hurry up and wait game had never been her favorite.
***
Sadie turned on the hot water and jets in the hot tub. She may as well enjoy herself. Carefully she took off the ankh necklace and placed it on the shelf beneath the mirror. Delilah’s Glock sat beside the tub with her two phones covered by a hand towel.
The heat of the water eased her worries as she climbed into the tub. Her aching feet and fraying nerves relaxed.The last remnants of that cloudy-drugged-head feeling drained out of her. She sat back and listened to Puccini’s La Boheme. After twenty minutes she checked her cell phone. 8:00p.m. and still no text. Looked like her gambit hadn’t worked.
Time for a new plan. Jeremiah expected her to call in five minutes. With great care she stepped onto the small mat on the shiny white tiled floor. She’d slipped the day before. The floor tiles matched the white tiled walls and white tiled ceiling. Clean and efficient, and so Dutch. Some of their tile work she liked, but these white ones gave her the feeling of being trapped in a sanitized sanatorium waiting a big, burly guy in a white uniform to arrive to scrub her back. She laughed.
She’d been so focused on her bath tub exit she hadn’t heard him coming. It was the change in air temperature as the door opened that caught her attention. She stood naked on the mat.
I
t wasn’t the big, burly guy.
Bakari al-Sharif, code name Anubis, strode into her private bathroom as if he owned it… and her. Taking in her nakedness, a slow smile spread across his square face. A lion of a man, he bristled with intensity and purpose befitting a general in an inter-galactic war. She took a snapshot of him in her mind: stocky build, five-ten, middle-aged with raven black hair graying at the temples, olive skin and a mole on his left cheek. Anubis. Dressed in an expensive designer suit he oozed power. His exotic cologne had a potency she’d equate with danger for the rest of her life.
A chill ran up her spine. No escape. Clenching her teeth, she willed her body to ignore the adrenalin rushing through her system and focus on him.
He feasted on her curves with hungry eyes as black as the night. She thought she’d find him ugly and disgusting, but his conquering demeanor held a peculiar, erotic charm. She felt appreciated more than violated.
But totally owned. Yuck. How could she play this one? She motioned with her hand for the clean bath towel on the rack beside where he stood. “Please,” she said.
He picked it up and handed it to her. Another man stood in the other room. She caught only a glimpse of him behind al-Sharif’s back. Probably the messenger. Trapped.
She waited until the cold black eyes of Anubis were back on her body and then she slowly wrapped the towel around her body and pulled her waist length hair away from her face. Her hand itched for the gun on the floor. Maybe she could end it all right now.
He watched seemingly mesmerized by her movements and said nothing.
“Are you my new boss?”
“Call me Bakari.” Perfect English with a touch of a BBC accent. The demanding tone of his voice made the hair on the nape of her neck quiver. Now that she had a towel wrapped around her, his eyes left her and scanned the room.
Shiiiit. Her gut clenched. Despite the cloud of steam that hung in the room, it wouldn’t take him long to see the ankh. She reached towards him and offered him her hand, letting the thick white towel slip exposing her right breast. Hell, he’d already seen it anyway. The cold air hardened her nipple. “Sadie Stewart,” she said.
A tentative smile returned to his face. He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, brought it to his lips and kissed her. His touch, weirdly tender, sent an icy tingle through her body. Not what she expected. But then nothing about this scumbag was what she expected.
She took her hand back and repositioned the towel drawing his eyes once again to her breasts.
“When I said I wanted to meet you Bakari, I didn’t mean like this.”
“I spend too much time in the office. I enjoy the occasional field trip.” He smiled. “And this one has been most interesting.”
She fidgeted with her towel feeling his desire heat the space between them. “No more fingers?”
A shadow crossed his pupils. “Not unless you disappoint me.” His mouth twitched. “And then it will cost you more than fingers.” His eyes shimmered with power. “Such a shame to harm a pretty body.”
The look of cold pleasure in his eyes shook her confidence. An icy feeling gathered at the base of her spine. This asshole might enjoy watching her body being dismembered as much as he’d enjoy raping it, maybe more.
Jeremiah’s warnings echoed in her mind. She’d met many assholes in her life, heck even married one of them, but this one made the devil look angelic. Her blood ran cold. She tried a smile, but under the circumstances even the trained model part of her couldn’t muster one.
He laughed as if he’d followed her train of thought. “I’ll leave you now. But you will be given instructions and money.”
She pulled her famous pout until his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared and then she said, “Okay.”
A whole-lot-of-weird left the room with him. She wanted to jump back into the tub and wash it off. The spot on her hand where he’d kissed her burned, not in a good way. At least he hadn’t spied the ankh. She folded it in a washcloth, and pocketed it in a robe before throwing it on.
***
Bakari closed the bathroom door behind him. He had expected a simple minded model. She had the requisite high cheekbones and perfect skin, but she’d faced him with rare bravery and… she glowed with an animal sensuality. She could be very useful to business.
He imagined her long red hair spread over his pillows and her firm round breasts in his hands. He smiled at the thought of her arching her back beneath him, begging for more. With his wealth and power he could have any woman he wanted, but this one pulled him. He exhaled slowly.
Gahiji stood by the door watching him with his usual grim expression.
Bakari shook his head. “Tell the woman she’s hired. Tell her you will contact her when we need her. Give her the five thousand in Euros not dollars and then give her an extra thousand and say it’s for her hospitality. Tell her she will earn much more.”
Gahiji nodded.
Bakari swallowed. “Have Chasisi find out more about her, and don’t tell her anything about me.”
Gahiji nodded again.
“With her looks and daring, she will be a great asset, but until I know for sure that I can trust her…”
“Want me to take some insurance?”
Bakari hesitated. “Not yet. The fingers have scared her enough to get her cooperation. If I use her in New York, then maybe.”
As he walked down the long narrow staircase his need for sex eased. He hadn’t been with a woman since the night Safa stabbed him. He’d see a prostitute tonight and sate his physical needs. But that wouldn’t end his desire for Sadie Stewart. A slow tingling awareness that this woman would mean more to him worried him. An American! He laughed out loud.
It wouldn’t matter how many women he slept with he’d still want her and he knew it. She had a magic all her own, a sense of her own female power. To have such a woman. The image of her full lips begging to be kissed crossed his mind, along with the thought that she’d be the death of him.
26
Chapter Twenty-Six
At a fast don’t-think-about-what you’re-doing clip Sadie strode along the Herengracht towards Sebastian’s place. Once the most important waterway in Amsterdam, its name translated to the gentleman’s canal. Lined with seventeenth century houses built by rich merchants and businessmen, the medieval brick road was impressive even now. The original owners of the houses invented capitalism, started the world’s first stock exchange and the Dutch West India Company, which connected the world in a way it had never been connected before.
The canal houses looked like scenes from a story book, each unique and full of character. Tall, narrow and built side by side; outlined with dramatic gables and shutters; they possessed a sense of dignity and elegance of a by-gone era that made Sadie wish she could time travel.
If she went back to Holland’s Golden Age, she’d not only get to meet some really interesting men with big floppy hats who changed the world, she’d also get to avoid facing Sebastian, or worse her feelings for him. She kicked at a pebble on the road. Never had she had to wrestle with such strong feelings for a man.
The light of a crescent moon lit her path as dusk settled. The soft spring breeze warmed her chilled nerves. People gathered at cafes on the street corners and music wafted onto the street, the Dutch enjoyment of life, what they call gezellig, spilling into the night. She breathed in the atmosphere.
Was this the right decision? Maybe she shouldn’t meet with Sebastian. This was a matter of the heart, not the mind, and no matter how many times she beat herself up about it, her feet kept walking in his direction.
Tired of wrestling with her conscience she pulled out her phone and called Jeremiah. He’d said he would do more research for her. “What about Sebastian,” she asked.
“This is what I’ve found out about your Dutch Romeo. He’s a successful art dealer, well liked and well-connected. His best friend Xander Van der Valk runs a business…”
“I know all that.”
“He’s helpe
d Xander van der Valk and his friend Seamus McIntyre at Interpol with some investigations, all having to do with looted art. They took down an Italian mob guy six months ago, but he wouldn’t take any credit for it. He doesn’t like publicity. Wilde told a reporter, and I quote, ‘We need to slide through the shadows to take down the scum.’”
Sounded like Sebastian. “Can I trust him?”
Jeremiah went silent. Something had his shorts in a twist.
“Tell me,” she said.
“People say he has a wild streak. In his twenties he got into trouble with the law, but he appears to have straightened out. He likes to drink, play football and chase women. He’s known for having a new lady on his arm every week.”
Didn’t sound that wild, though the part about women gutted her. “So I can read him in?”
“Why would you want to do that? Are you falling for him?” The concern in his voice irked her. He’d been concerned before, but his voice had never held such a worried tone. If Jeremiah’s new found paternal instincts started to compromise her work, she’d have to request a different handler. The very thought nauseated her. Jeremiah, the master spy, rocked. Who could be better at saving her ass than him?
Her chance to chew the silence. She needed to sift fact from emotions.
“You did get the part about other women?” Jeremiah said.
“I’m not…well I don’t think I’m falling…” Hell. She’d already fallen, but she wasn’t about to share that with him. She cleared her throat. “I think he could be useful. He knows this city and he’s good at…” Kissing came first to her mind. When his lips touched hers she lost all sense of time. She chose not to share that fact either. “…having my back.” The niggling sense Sebastian was her man wouldn’t leave her. She’d sound like a silly romantic moron if she said that to Jeremiah. He was maddeningly logical at all times.
Jeremiah grumbled. “There’s a hell of a difference between taking down your ex and taking down Anubis. Sebastian’s not a trained operative. If you don’t think George is enough backup, I’ll see about bringing in more. I’ll come myself if you like. Listen to me Sadie. Anubis is a brutal man. Pure evil. Remember his wife’s dismembered head.”
Covert Danger Page 14