by Jeff Abbott
“Nothing,” I said, knowing that he would therefore definitely check out Lada.
I could see blood on the ground, drying. I grubbed around in the dirt and found a bullet. I didn’t have to fake the wince. My whole body ached, badly. The pain radiated out from my shoulder. I stood up. “You might want this back.”
“Thank you.” And he came over and he touched my shoulder, the uninjured one. A reassuring squeeze, a pat of friendship.
“Ouch,” I said.
“Sorry, sorry.”
I saw Zhanna hurrying down toward us. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Trying to figure out who the kidnapper was,” I said. “It was a violent fight, there might be something…”
She stared at me. “I’m in charge of security. I’ll take care of this. I already went through…”
Galo held up the bullet. “We have to be more careful. Sam found this.”
She seemed unimpressed. “I’ll search here, not you.”
“I’ll search here,” I said. “Are you going to tell me who the kidnapper was? I mean, these people could come after Cori next. Or me. I want to know what I’ve gotten involved with. Who is behind this?”
“How would they know about you?” she said.
“How did they know Rey was here? Or that he was alone?” I countered.
“Help us, Z, come on,” Galo said.
“Aren’t we all on the same team?” I said.
She snatched the bullet from Galo’s hand.
“So who’s behind this?” I asked again.
“We don’t know,” she said.
“I think you do.” I moved away from where I’d planted the chip, down past where we’d fought. Zhanna, still in her suit but with blood along one sleeve—I presumed it was Rey’s, from the knife cut he’d taken—searched along where I’d hidden the chip. It was red, even if smeared with mud.
Galo moved down toward me. “She’s territorial,” he whispered.
“I noticed.”
“But she’ll respect you for finding that bullet she missed.”
I’d respect her if she found what I’d left. It took her four minutes. Galo was five feet away from me and I saw Zhanna suddenly kneel down in the mud. She pulled the broken chip free, cleaned it. Stared at it. I glanced at Galo. He had his back to her.
Then I turned back and she was watching me. The chip wasn’t in her hand.
She said nothing, then she started searching again.
She must have stuck the chip fragment in her pocket. She would either know that it might have been the chip that had been in Steve’s possession, or maybe the kidnapper had visited the casino. It would create questions. Perhaps suspicion.
I’d just thrown a little bomb into House Varela. I’d have to see how long it took to detonate.
After twenty more minutes of searching we went back up to the house. Zhanna kept glancing at me. Wondering. Had I seen her pocket the chip? Was she going to talk about finding it in front of me? I started to feel like I’d made a mistake.
When we reached the stone patio Kent and Cori were waiting for us. So was Rey Varela, dressed in a bathrobe, his arm bound. His head was bandaged where the kidnapper had shoved him against the tree. He blinked at me. Pointed. “You. I don’t know you.”
“No, sir,” I said.
“This is Sam. He is the guy who saved you, Papa,” Galo said.
“Why?” Rey said. “Why would he do that?”
“I need a why?” I said to him, and he laughed. It was a curiously empty sound.
“Everyone needs a why,” Rey said.
I pointed at Cori. “I did it for her. You’re her father.”
His gaze went from being blank to being knowing. He crooked a small smile.
“What were you doing?” Cori asked us.
“Searching for clues. We found a bullet. Nothing more,” Zhanna said.
“Zhanna stuck something in her pocket,” I said. “I saw her.”
Everyone stared at me. But I stared at Zhanna.
“Z?” Galo said.
She shrugged. “Yes. It’s a part of a chip from the casino.” She produced the muddied, broken plaque.
“That’s a high-dollar chip,” Galo said.
“Maybe he was gambling earlier,” I suggested.
“At our own casino?” Cori’s voice rose. “It’s half a chip.”
“The half with the serial number is gone,” Zhanna said. She handed it to Galo.
“What denomination is it?” I asked innocently.
“The denomination is on the missing half,” Zhanna said after a moment.
“Aren’t they color-coded?” I asked.
No one answered me.
“Do you think someone goes and gambles at a casino before attempting a kidnapping?” Cori asked. “Seems odd.”
“Unless he’s getting paid with the chip for services rendered,” I said, testing a theory. “It’s broken. Maybe he got half the chip when he took the job, and the other half when he delivered Mr. Varela.”
It got even quieter, the family silent as the grave in the Caribbean breeze.
“No one delivers me,” Rey said, to no one. “I deliver things.” Cori patted his arm and for a moment he smiled at her.
“Or maybe it was yours, Sam,” Zhanna said. “You were at the casino this morning.”
“I didn’t gamble,” I said, hoping no one would suggest I empty my pockets.
“Why would you hide that, Zhanna?” Kent asked in a gentle, understanding tone. “I’m sure you had a good reason.”
“We don’t know much about Sam,” she said. “And I think that maybe we shouldn’t quite trust him yet. So I didn’t want him to know what I’d found.”
“It’s great to feel appreciated, Z,” I said. “Thank you for that.”
Galo went over and talked to Kent and Zhanna in a quick whisper. Everyone looked at me. Kent nodded, went back inside, led by Zhanna. I saw Kent speak to his phone, but couldn’t hear what he asked it to do.
“Wait here,” Galo said. He looked tense.
“What’s the matter?” I said.
He shrugged. “Kent just needs to make a couple of phone calls.”
“Maybe we should go,” Cori said. “Take Papa back to Miami right now.”
“No,” Galo said. “We’re not doing that. We’re safer here.”
I looked at Rey. “Are you all right, sir?”
His gaze met mine. “Fine. Of course I’m fine. That little punk, he couldn’t have taken me if he hadn’t shot me up with a drug to make me woozy.” Then I noticed he was leaning on Cori.
“Maybe go back to bed, Papa,” she said.
“No, I wanted to see this boy. Say thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. A minute ago he hadn’t remembered me.
He looked at Galo. “This one, too, he’s tougher than I ever thought he’d be. Pulling a trigger. Like a man.”
“Can we not talk about it, Papa?” Galo said.
“Galo has to stay clean,” he said to me, as if this made sense. I just nodded.
“A boy like you,” he pointed at me, “that’s a good boy. You help keep Galo clean.” His words slurred slightly and I didn’t know if it was a leftover from the sedative. He turned to Cori. “Him I like.”
“Yes, sir.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Let’s go back to bed, Papa,” she urged.
He raised a finger toward me. “That boy. He fought for me. Give him some money, Galo.”
“I don’t want your money, sir,” I said.
“Of course you do.”
Cori led him away. Zhanna reappeared on the patio, this time with Ricky, who gave me a grim stare. “Come with us, please, Sam,” Zhanna said. I’d made a gamble when I tattled on her, and it had failed.
I followed them back into the house.
24
ARE THEY GOING to kill me? I wondered. I felt like a man walking to his execution. Not to freedom.
I followed them down a hall
and around a corner to an office that faced not the ocean but the courtyard. Before we got to the door I could hear the soft drone of a computerized voice. Reading out Sam Chevalier’s Canadian military record.
Kent sat in front of a computer. I listened to that computer read out my fake history, and then Zhanna told me to sit down. I sat on a small couch. Cori appeared in the doorway, looking miserable, and sat down next to me.
Zhanna settled into a heavy leather chair, Galo stood by the window, and Ricky stood by the door. This was a war council.
“Have I done something wrong…?” I began.
“Sam,” Zhanna said, not smiling. “I am security chief for FastFlex. So answer our questions truthfully and honestly and we will all be happy. Cordelia, you met him when he bid on a security job for you? And he didn’t get the job, but he asked you out socially.”
“Yes.”
Galo looked at me. “Sam says he used to work for a guy named František Lada in Prague. Kent, you know who Lada is?”
I shot him a look of annoyance, playing my part, and Galo shrugged. “Sorry, man.”
“Not personally,” Kent said.
I let myself blush and continued to stick to polite fictions. “Mr. Lada’s an importer.” True enough, that was the legitimate business that served as a cover for Lada’s more lucrative activities.
“Do we have any friends in Prague?” Zhanna asked.
“Guy named Gajda,” Kent said. I knew Gajda’s name. He was like Lada—a legit businessman who might sometimes cross the boundaries of the law but was bigger and better connected in the Czech government than Lada. “Rey flew goods for him from Africa to Prague back in the old days.”
“Check with him, see if he knows Lada. I want to talk to this guy,” Zhanna said.
Kent made the phone call. Gajda did indeed know Lada and called him a couple of choice names. However, he arranged for Kent to speak to Lada in a matter of minutes on a secure line.
Sweat dampened my back. If Lada didn’t validate me…I’d be exposed. What if August couldn’t have reached him or he was no longer on the CIA payroll? I wondered if I could fight my way past them. On the desk were a keyboard, scissors, a heavy glass statue, some corporate award from FastFlex, a framed photo of Zhanna. I could kill with any of those…This all blazed through my brain in five seconds.
“You,” Zhanna said to me, “not a word during the call. Remain silent.”
“Or what?” I said. “You’ll go all security chief on me?”
“Mind your mouth,” Ricky said.
“Where were you during the kidnapping attempt, ace?” I asked, and his face reddened.
“Stop this, gentlemen, please,” Kent said.
Zhanna dialed the number. Mr. Lada came on the phone. He coughed, sounding like he had a cold. “Hello?”
“You don’t know us, Mr. Lada, and I’m not giving you my name. But I appreciate you talking to me,” Kent said. Interesting, I thought. Zhanna was the security chief but Kent asked the questions.
“Mr. Gajda insisted as an old friend,” Lada said. “Only for him do I talk to a stranger.”
“We’re his friends, and we appreciate your courtesy.”
“Forget the diplomacy. What do you want to know?”
“Did you once have a man named Sam Chevalier work for you?”
A few beats of silence, then he said, “Yes. He worked on my security team. Sometimes my shipments need…protection.”
“I just e-mailed you a photo of him, Mr. Lada. Did you see it?”
“Yes, that’s Sam. His hair is little longer now. He had military cut when I hire him.”
“And how was he as an employee?”
“Reliable. Very smart, much smarter than usual muscle. Good with languages. He spoke French fluently. Also some German and Russian.”
“We know about his not-very-good Russian.” Zhanna frowned. I smiled, since I wasn’t supposed to talk. “How do you think he came by it?”
“In Canada Army. Trained as translator but got thrown out. Him having some Russian was reason to hire him, I deal with Russians a lot.”
Zhanna and Galo exchanged a glance. “Why was Sam thrown out of the Army?”
“He said fighting with other soldier and also he did little smuggling on the side while in the Army and they don’t like that. They show him the door.”
I stared at my knees as though too ashamed to look at Cori.
“Sam was a good fighter?” Galo asked.
“I never saw him in boxing ring, if that’s what you mean.”
“Then what do you mean?” Kent asked.
“So…one night some competitors try to grab a shipment Sam was in charge of watching. Two jerks with guns, Sam was alone and unarmed. The two jerks both ended up in the hospital.”
Now I winked at Zhanna. She looked away in disgust.
Lada cleared his throat. “But not a bragging man. Pay him well. He likes his money. He likes his women. I liked him. If you are hiring him you are getting a good man.”
“Discreet?” Kent asked.
“Dis…what?” Lada’s English was only so good.
“Could he keep his mouth shut?” Galo asked.
“Ah. Very, the shut mouth. Very dis…creet.” Lada said the last word like he was tasting it.
“And when did you last see him?” Kent tilted his head toward the couch where I sat. He knew exactly where I was, had heard the shift of my legs against the furniture.
“Little over a year ago, I guess.”
“And he only worked protection for you?”
“Well.” A sniffle. “A bit more.”
“It’s all right, Mr. Lada. Mr. Gajda vouched for us, remember?” Zhanna said.
“Well. Okay. There was a guy trying to screw with my business. Some idiot in Turkey, trying to disrupt my routes. He wanted a cut. I don’t know how to say this, you know, diplomat like. Sam found out who the Turkish guy was and convinced the guy to leave us alone.”
“Convinced?” Zhanna stared at me. This time I didn’t wink.
“Yes, Sam convinced him. Guy not problem no more. He go off to bother someone else.”
Zhanna raised an eyebrow at Cordelia. Galo reached out, touched Kent’s shoulder with a pat. For them it was like exchanging a look, a sign to say, That is interesting.
I put my innocent schoolboy gaze back on my feet.
“Did you ever think Sam was a cop?” Kent asked. Now the questions were getting good.
Lada laughed. “No, never. Not a cop. Nothing like that. Not customs, or for government. Just a kid who got out of Canada Army and knew how to solve my problems for me.”
“Why did he stop working for you?” Kent asked.
“He moved. To London, I think. I don’t know what he did after working for me. He don’t send Christmas cards.”
I studied the room. Zhanna looked annoyed, Galo looked relieved, and Kent was impossible to read behind his dark glasses.
“Thank you, Mr. Lada,” Kent said.
“You tell Gajda I answered your questions. He owes me. You see Sam, you tell him I said hi and the beer is still cold here.” And Lada hung up.
Kent turned off the speakerphone. “I don’t have to see your self-satisfied smile to know it’s there, Cordelia. But you didn’t know he’d worked for a smuggler.”
“Import-export,” I corrected, as if it mattered.
“No,” Cordelia said. “But I knew Sam was a good man.”
“It’s a bit tidy, isn’t it? You meeting him, and him having this background. Then he’s here when we need him. It’s neat as a pin,” Zhanna said.
“May I speak now?” I said.
“Of course, Sam,” Kent said, as though the idea of me being silent was my own. He was always so measured, an interesting counterpoint to the ever-brusque Zhanna.
And then I gave the thread leading into the maze a hard, hard yank. I wanted to shake the hiding monster. Because here was the brutal truth: either the attacks on Steve and Rey were the work of an outside enemy
, or they were the work of a cold-blooded someone in this room who wanted both Cori and Rey out of the way. And the someone in this room could not own up to being the culprit—the rest of the family would take him or her down. A line had been crossed. “The kidnapper told me something interesting.”
I studied their faces for a hint of reaction. Saw none.
“You chatted during your fight?” Zhanna asked, disbelieving.
“What did he say, Sam?” Kent said.
“I’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s stop dancing around,” I said. “You’re acting like idiots.”
Silence.
“You’re under attack. Someone tried to take Rey and was willing to kill to take him. And note that they made their attempt today. When you’re having some big secret confab about your family’s business problems. The one involving the ten million in cash that Rey tried to give Cori, the ten million Cori wasn’t supposed to know about, the money that’s made her think that there’s something very dirty under the family business.”
They all stared at me.
“We explained to Cori that the ten million was just some cargo…” Kent began.
“If you insult my intelligence once more, blind man or not, I will take your cane and shove it up your ass.”
Silence again.
“Pray continue,” Kent said after a few moments. “I won’t insult your intelligence again.”
“The ten million is the reason for this secret meeting, for shutting out Cori, for the old man nearly getting hauled off down the beach. Elephant in the room acknowledged,” I said. “Now. I know there’s a big bad problem here and it’s just gotten worse. So either I can help you with it—because I want to help Cori, because I care about her—or Cori and I can leave and we’ll never mention it again. But you’ll never see her again, period, because she’s not going to hang around you all and hope there’s not an eventual bloodbath.” And I looked at Zhanna, because I thought she was the most dangerous person in the room.
Silence again, as if no one wanted to debate me.
I stood. “I’m not here to solve your problem, I’m here to solve Cori’s. But as of the moment of the attack on your dad, I think those problems are the same.”
“What do you think you can do?” Galo said.
“Find whoever’s after him. But I suspect you already know who it is. Tell me.”