by Alex Archer
Annja frowned. “I don’t know. Strikes me as a little odd. Was it a rendezvous or something?”
Vic shook his head. “Don’t think so. My guys sat on him for a while. If he was there to meet someone, they stood him up.”
“Or you were right and they set him up as bait.”
“If that’s true, our boy might just be willing to talk to us about Spier and his plans.”
Annja watched Vic round another curve and narrowly miss hitting a mailbox. “Or Spier has sent him here to throw us off the trail.”
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to be smarter than him.” Vic steered them into Vineyard Haven and parked close to the bar in question. When they got out, Vic nodded at Annja. “We’ve got him set up next door at the hotel. I’ll go in first. You wait outside until I bring you in. Since he doesn’t know me, it might give me some leverage—he might say something that you know isn’t true that we can then use against him.”
Annja nodded. “Okay. I’ll hang outside until you come for me.”
She watched Vic disappear inside the hotel and eased herself back into the alley running next to the hotel. The night might have fallen but Vineyard Haven, like Edgartown, still bustled with tourists and residents eager for a late-evening dinner. She could see across the street to the little harbor. Small sailboats jockeyed for position next to expensive sleek yachts sailing in from Newport and farther away in the Hamptons. Celebrities and the megarich partied together while the regular folks gawked from afar.
Annja considered that. She’d never understood the lure of celebrity, but she’d gotten a small taste of it by hosting a television show. Spier recognizing her in the Philippines was just one example of how it could work against her. She’d been asked for autographs in plenty of surprising places.
Annja shook her head. She couldn’t imagine a real celebrity having to deal with the camera hounds and people prying into her life at any opportunity. Still, she wondered if that was the trade-off. If you wanted celebrity, you had to be willing to embrace the negative aspects, as well.
A couple walked past her arm in arm and Annja smiled. They’d obviously enjoyed a good bottle of wine somewhere nearby. She could smell the aroma around them. But at least they weren’t driving.
She glanced up at the hotel. Yellow light bled out of one of the windows facing the street. She wondered if Vic was inside that one with Gottlieb. Gottlieb wouldn’t tell him a thing, of course.
But maybe Vic had a few more skills than Annja knew about. Maybe he knew how to drag information out of an uncooperative captive.
She leaned against the building and watched the boats in the harbor. What if Spier was out there somewhere? What if he was waiting to blow up the chancellor?
She frowned. Somehow they had to get to Gottlieb.
“Miss Creed?”
She turned and saw a young man dressed in a blazer and khaki pants. Definitely a fed. She smiled. “Yes?”
“Mr. Gutierrez would like you to come inside now.”
Annja followed the man inside the hotel. She’d noticed that Vic hadn’t been referred to as “special agent.” She wondered exactly which agency he was working for.
They walked upstairs to the second floor and the young agent paused, looked at Annja and winked once. Then he knocked on the door and waited until he heard Vic call out, “Come.”
He opened the door and Annja walked inside. She saw that Gottlieb was seated with his hands cuffed behind his back positioned in front of the window looking out over the harbor. He couldn’t see Annja.
Vic stood in front of Gottlieb and nodded for Annja to stand behind the prisoner. Annja did as he suggested and waited.
“So, Gottlieb, we know you’re up to something here on the island. What we can’t seem to figure out is why you’re doing it here. Is it about the chancellor? You want to take her out?”
Gottlieb said nothing.
Vic continued. “We know about the pearl, Gottlieb.”
That got a reaction. Gottlieb’s head snapped up and then he quickly regained control of himself. His mind must be racing, Annja thought. He’d want to know how Vic knew about it.
Vic kept up the pressure. “We know it’s radioactive. So what did you and the KSK boys do? Did you figure out how to weaponize it? Turn it into a dirty bomb, maybe?”
Gottlieb shook his head. “You won’t get anything from me. You should know that right now.”
Vic shrugged. “Well, see, here’s the thing. I don’t really need you. I’ve got a pretty reliable source of information already.”
“You’re lying.”
Vic smiled. “Am I? Then how did I know about the pearl? How did I know it’s radioactive? How would I know all that unless someone inside your merry little band of terrorists was actually a double agent? Ready to betray their friends. Huh? Ask yourself that.”
Gottlieb stayed silent for a moment. Then he looked directly at Vic. “None of us would betray the cause.”
“And what cause is that? Spier’s fruitcake right-wing ideology? What—you guys want to pick up where Hitler left off? Resurrect the Aryan nation?”
Gottlieb shook his head. “You would never understand.”
“Why? Because I’m Latino? You think my blood doesn’t bleed the same as a white man? You people make me sick with your bullshit.” He slapped Gottlieb across the mouth and the sound of the flesh on flesh shocked Annja.
But Gottlieb just laughed. “Your attempts to get me to talk are pathetic. You know I’m former KSK. You know I’ve been trained to endure torture.”
“Endure it, yeah. But the thing about torture is everyone has their breaking point. It’s just a matter of finding out what makes you tick. I’ll find it,” Vic said. He grinned. “I’ll find it for sure.”
Gottlieb shrugged. “You’re wasting your time.”
Vic stepped back and looked at Annja. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am wasting my time here. You won’t talk. You won’t tell us anything. Or so you think…”
“What do you mean?”
Vic shrugged. “Maybe it doesn’t matter that you haven’t told us anything. Maybe if I let you loose and tell everyone that you talked, it’ll be just as good.”
“I’m not talking,” Gottlieb said.
Vic shrugged. “Yeah, but they won’t know that, will they? Not when we start releasing juicy details of your little plan, your ideology, where you were before this trip to Martha’s Vineyard, that sort of thing.”
Gottlieb laughed. “You don’t have that kind of information.”
Vic leaned back in. “That’s where you’re wrong, pal.” And then he spun Gottlieb’s chair around so he faced Annja.
The expression on Gottlieb’s face was one for the ages. “You!”
Annja smiled. “Hi, Gottlieb.”
Vic turned him around again. “So, you see, I don’t really need you to talk. Annja here has plenty of information to share all about you guys. And it’s the kind of stuff that someone on the inside would know all about. So when we feed that to the media, they’ll be all over it. And then what do you suppose Spier will think when it gets back to him and you’re all of sudden walking free? Why, he’s going to think that you turned on them and gave us everything we wanted.”
Vic leaned back against the window frame and popped a piece of gum into his mouth. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when that happens. I don’t imagine your leader is going to be a compassionate soul when he gets his hands on you.”
Gottlieb laughed. “He will never believe it. He knows me.”
“Aw, Gottlieb, you know that’s bullshit. Y’see, I know a little about paranoia. I was a sniper. It was my job to instill paranoia into the enemy I hunted. Make them think that anywhere they poked their head out there was going to be one of my Lapua rounds just waiting to take their head clean off their spinal column. I saw what my presence could do to even the most grounded enemy. They start wondering. They start asking themselves questions. You get that shit in
your head? Forget it. And even the most trusted associate starts looking like a Benedict Arnold when grade-A intel starts flowing into the papers. You think I’m lying?”
Gottlieb stayed quiet for a few moments and the only sound was Vic chewing his gum. Occasionally, he would snap it loudly, breaking the silence in the room.
Gottlieb stayed very still.
Vic checked his watch. “So, here’s how this is going to go down, Gottlieb. Me and Annja are going to go have a late dinner at a cute little Italian joint around the corner. Over some meatballs and linguine and a nice bottle of merlot, we’re going to talk about what you guys did in the Philippines on your hunt for the pearl and how you saved her from sharks and all that good shit. And then I’m going to hold a press conference and announce we’ve dismantled a terrorist cell operating with the purpose of assassinating the German chancellor. I imagine they’ll gobble that right up.” He smiled at Gottlieb. “And I’ll make a point of telling them that all of our golden information came from one of the terrorists who is now cooperating with us.”
“You lie!” Gottlieb said.
Vic stood unfazed by the outburst. “And then, say about twelve hours from now, I’m going to spring you loose. I’m going to take the cuffs off, give you a friendly pat on the back outside the hotel where all these awesome tourists can snap their pictures and videos, and then you and I are going to walk away from each other. Me? I’m going back to the mainland to hop a plane back to Washington. And you? Well, that’s where this picture gets kind of interesting. Because I don’t know how long it’ll take Spier to find you. But I feel pretty strongly that he’ll want to have a few words with you. Y’know, reconnect, as it were. He’ll want to find out all the cool stuff that went on while you were in federal custody. And you’ll tell him you told us nothing, that it was Annja here who spilled the beans. But you know what? It won’t matter. Because even if Spier believes you, there’s going to be a part of him that isn’t entirely sure. It’ll be a small part of his brain at first. Just that niggling little voice that whispers, ‘What if?’ every so often.
“But then you know what will end up happening? That little part is going to grow into a bigger part. And that little voice is going to get louder. Spier’s going to start connecting all sorts of shit that a normal person wouldn’t equate with betrayal. But Spier will because of that little ‘what if?’ And sooner than later, he’s going to start looking at you like a traitor. And then he’s going to put two bullets into that thick skull of yours.”
Vic blew a bubble and let it pop for effect. “And that, my friend, will be that.”
“It will never happen that way.”
Vic shrugged. “I’m glad you’re an optimist. Really. Almost restores my faith in humanity. But I’m a realist. And I know what happens when that shit starts rattling around in your head. Gets you all jacked up, worrying all the time. And Spier will want to get rid of that worry. That’s you, pal. Better safe than sorry.”
Vic stood and nodded at Annja. “So, let’s you and I go have a nice dinner and have that talk. I’ve got a hankering for some good merlot. Been a long day.”
Annja nodded. “Okay. See you, Gottlieb.”
Gottlieb spun his chair around. “You can’t leave me here like this.”
Vic looked at him. “Of course I can. I can do anything to you, Gottlieb. That’s the thing you haven’t grasped yet. If I wanted to, I could make your ass disappear into some hellhole third-world country that no one even knows about. You’d eat maggots and be grateful about it for the rest of your life.”
Vic smirked. “But I like my idea better. There’s some kind of universal justice to it. You getting topped by your own team works for me. Nice and neat. And when they do you, we’re going to be right there to kill the rest of them.”
“You wish,” Gottlieb said. “Spier is smarter than any of you. This is all false bravado.”
Vic shook his head. “A loyal guy, I like that. Keep dreaming, Gottlieb—”
But in that instant, the door to the room blew off its hinges and Annja saw something small and black float into the air.
Unable to take her eyes off it, she watched it burst into the brightness of a thousand suns while her ears felt the thundering concussion of sound.
And then everything exploded.
33
Annja’s head was a swirl of confusion. She heard voices speaking in gruff German and English. Fragmented speech. Urgency. But she heard it all like it was being said underwater. And there was a constant ringing in her ears.
She still couldn’t see clearly. She made out forms rushing into the room. Scattered bursts of what sounded like gunfire.
Someone ran over her, their boots knocking her down and then stomping on her back.
She tried to fend them off but could only move slowly and without any sense of coordination.
A hand slapped hers away. Someone was speaking to her close by.
“Her, too.”
Strong hands lifted her off the floor, where she thought maybe she’d curled up into the fetal position. They dragged her toward the door. She saw it was off its hinges.
Annja risked a glance back, and saw several bodies sprawled on the floor. The stench of cordite, burned wood and spent shells hung in the air.
And something pooled on the floor.
Blood.
Her last thought was of Vic and what might have happened to him. But then she was being dragged, force-marched down the stairs.
People were screaming.
Smoke hung in the air.
And then they were outside. Annja was still being pushed and prodded but her legs seemed to have turned to jelly.
She smelled the salt air, knew they were down by the harbor close to the sea. And then someone tossed her through the air. She landed, rolled onto her left shoulder and gasped at the pain that shot through her body.
An engine sounded somewhere near her head and she had the most indescribable sensation of being on something moving.
A boat, she decided.
A hood was forced over her head. Slowly, she heard more sounds.
“What do we do with her?” a voice said.
And then someone knocked her on the back of the head.
ANNJA CAME TO, sputtering and alert again. Finally. They’d dragged her down into the galley and threw water on her face to wake her up.
Spier’s face hovered in front of hers. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Annja.”
She spat in his face.
Spier smiled. “Is that any way to address your elders?” He backhanded her across the face, snapping Annja’s head back. Again, Spier’s strength surprised her.
“Wow, that cancer really took a lot out of you, didn’t it?” Annja spat some more water out of her mouth. “I hate liars.”
Spier shrugged. “The lie was necessary to get you out so Heinkel and I could finish our work.”
“Robbing the Jiao of their power supply. Very nice of you to leave them in the literal darkness like that.”
Spier shrugged. “They had no idea of what its true power could be. But we will show them, I assure you.”
Hans came belowdecks and glanced at Annja. “I thought you would have been back in the Philippines.”
“I don’t like being stood up,” Annja said. “It’s rude and boorish behavior.”
Hans feigned offense.
He frowned and said something to Spier that Annja couldn’t hear. Spier nodded and then looked back at Annja. “It would probably be smart not to upset him too greatly. He’s already highly annoyed that Gottlieb was picked up by those government agents.”
“He should be. Gottlieb sang like a canary to them.”
Spier smiled. “Funny, Gottlieb said that you would probably say exactly that very thing.”
“Of course he did,” Annja said. “He’s trying to cover his own tracks. When the lead agent brought me in, Gottlieb was standing over a map pointing out how you guys came to the island and where you’re planning
on setting off the pearl.”
“And that’s why when we stormed the hotel, he was sitting in the chair handcuffed? Nice try, Annja. I know you’re resourceful and I respect that, but try to remember you’re not dealing with an idiot here.”
Annja shook her head. “Gottlieb was recuffed just prior to the lead agent moving him to a safe house. He figured it would keep up appearances if you happened to be doing surveillance on the place.”
“We were,” Spier said. “From out in the harbor. Gottlieb was supposed to go ashore and meet a contact of ours, but instead, your government decided to ruin the party.”
“So you took Gottlieb back,” Annja said. “But now you’ve got a traitor in your midst.”
Spier shook his head. “I don’t think we do. What we do have is a very determined woman who should have stayed behind and finished her vacation, rather than put her mind to causing trouble where none is warranted.”
“You’re planning on setting off a nuke in my country. I sorta think that means I ought to get involved.”
Spier frowned. “You have no idea what we are attempting to do. You have no clue as to how we have suffered under this administration or what we hope to achieve by liberating our countrymen of it. You only know what you think and that is not the reality of the situation at all.”
Annja sighed. “I get so tired of megalomaniacs who drone on and on about their plans to rule the world.”
“Would you prefer I simply tossed you overboard, then?”
“Depends on what’s for dinner later.”
Spier smiled. “Indeed.” He climbed back on to the deck and left Annja in the galley with her hands tied behind her back. But at least the hood was off.
She tried to make sense of the situation.
Clearly, they had stormed the hotel after seeing Gottlieb being taken there for questioning. The disorientation and confusion Annja had experienced was due to the flash-bang grenade they had thrown upon breaching the room. The magnesium flare effect would have blinded her and the concussion blast would have deafened her. It would also have made her uncoordinated and easy to maneuver.