by Stuart Field
She swung her long legs out of bed and onto the soft flooring, strode over the dresser and picked put Steel’s phone to check the last call. Samara smiled at seeing Foster’s name. She quickly headed for her room and picked up her cell phone and pressing a speed-dial app. All the while, her gaze fixed on the bathroom door. Hoping Steel was taking another shower.
‘Yes it’s me, get a trace on a number. I want to know where Foster just made a call from,’ Samara gave the number from Steel’s phone. She had a feeling it would pay off. Wherever Foster had told Steel to meet him, Samara suspected Foster wasn’t. She did not trust the notion that someone who just happened to look like Foster was at the house that morning.
In fact, she did not believe or trust Foster at all.
Just the thought of him made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. For her, that was a bad sign. There was just something about Foster, something she could not put her finger on. Steel had explained about the man from the pool looking simular to Foster. At a quick glance maybe, be she did not see it personally, and even more with the duct tape and the broken nose. Steel had left the man for the police to find. However, he was no longer bound or gagged, but he had been unconscious. Steel had crashed the car and placed the man in the driver's seat next to a bottle brandy Steel had bought from a local shop. Of course, the police would find him and go through the motions, mostly due to the man being covered in booze and because Steel had made sure it crashed into an empty police vehicle.
But that did not change her feeling about Steel’s friend. She just hoped Steel wasn’t blinkered. Sure, his loyalty leant towards his friend was commendable, but that wasn’t important at this time.
As the door closed behind her, Steel walked out of the bathroom. He wore a confident smile. He knew she wasn’t the type to just sit back. She had been sent to the island to do a job, and he respected that. In truth, he would have been disappointed if she hadn’t carried on.
The sunglasses he had left on the table had caught everything and displayed it on Steel’s watch. The security function had come on automatically as the built-in motion sensor activated. At first, he was just going to watch her naked form as she crossed the room. An innocent mistake, with benefits he had thought. But then she picked up his phone, then hers.
The phone’s camera and microphone had activated after Steel's command, and he had heard everything.
He began to wonder if she just used him to get to Foster? Possibly. But in truth, would he have done anything differently? The hours in the bedroom with her had been spectacular. But had that too be a ploy, or had the events of that day and forced their bodies together. It was known that near-death experiences can enhance the need for lovemaking, or at least a momentary affectionate gesture.
Samara, or at least Mossad, had been watching Foster long before Steel had turned up. Steel could imagine his appearance had been a temporary annoyance – just someone else to keep an eye on. Still, hopefully, she now regarded him as a friendly – or, something more.
Steel picked up the concierge phone and dialled for the front desk. After a while, a friendly female voice answered.
‘Hi, Mr Steel here from the presidential Suite, I wondered if you could get me a couple of things?’
Steel went back in and showered, hoping the soothing water would help him to think straight. He started to run through what he knew, hoping a pattern would appear. Steel knew all the events fitted somehow, but how? There was a critical piece missing.
Why Lucy? Why the Azure Window? What had Brad seen? Was there a significance to the superyacht photo? If so, what was it?
Steel had phoned for a taxi before his shower, that way it would be there by the time he had got to the lobby. Steel had a ship shower, three minutes to, get under-get wet-get out. He did not have time to luxuriate. He was in a rush to get to the Embassy. As Steel rushed out of the shower and headed for his room, he picked up the cup of coffee he had poured before he showered. It was lukewarm but still drinkable. He walked out onto the terrace and looked out across the water and took in the view. He still could not get over how beautiful this place was. He just wished he was there to enjoy it – he wished Helen was with him to enjoy it.
Twenty minutes later, a knock on the door and a man entered with a large shopping bag for him. Steel signed a bill and tipped the man generously.
Steel had a plan, a surprise. Things were moving forwards, and he needed as much back-up as he could get.
He considered Foster’s call. Foster sounded frustrated, which in all honesty Steel expected. He still had no idea what had happened at Foster’s house or why he had seen Foster and his family that morning. The man that Steel had dragged from the pool had been a good double for Foster, enough to fool someone at a distance or just before some bastard stuck a taser in the neck. The man had been a decoy for the neighbours. But Steel did know if Foster was at the Embassy like he had said, he was safe.
Steel poured himself another coffee and had picked a piece of toast, before pulling on a black polo shirt and a pair of black jeans and a leather jacket from the coat rack next to the door. Putting on the sunglasses, he looked around the room, ensuring he had secured his laptop and anything else. As he was about to close the safe, he stopped and smiled to himself. Picking up a piece of paper from the stationary, he wrote a note, slipped his keycard into the folded note, slipped it into the safe, and locked it.
Steel knew Samara was just doing her job, and now he had to his. He also knew he could not investigate alone. She wasn’t giving up, and so, he might as well use her as a source of intel. She had more extensive resources.
He closed the door to the suite and headed towards the elevator.
While he rode down, he called Stan the cabbie, arranging a pickup. Stan assured Steel he’d be there in five, a promise that made Steel smile. Steel had seen the heavy traffic, and he knew it would take longer than five minutes.
Twenty minutes, and a second cappuccino later, Stan parked his red minibus outside the main entrance and found Steel sat next to the stairs that led up to the main road. Steel looked at his watch mockingly, causing Stan to shrug.
‘Five minutes? What did you do stop for breakfast?’ Steel joked, Stan smiled and bit into a burger he had picked up on the way. Steel shook his head with a grin and got into the passenger bench just behind Stan’s seat.
‘So, where to chief?’ Stan asked.
‘To the US Embassy, please Stan. I’ve got an old friend to kick the shit out of,’ Steel replied with an intense look on his face.
‘Uh, righty-oh, then. Embassy and arse kickin’ it is then,’ Stan said. He shrugged and took another bite from the burger.
The trip to the Embassy did not take long. Despite the traffic and the tight streets of the town on the way. Stan the cabbie had driven in his usual, get-out-of-my-way manner. Charging headlong down narrow streets, forcing other drivers out of his way, making up time as he went. Steel wasn’t sure this was because of the generous tips he had given the driver, or if Stan was just a maniac behind the wheel.
Stan pulled up to the main gate of the embassy. A security guard stepped out of his control box and stopped them at the barrier. He was a small guy in his forties Steel figured, but he was lean and looked like he could handle himself. A local guy probably. He’d possibly answered one of those adds online for, ‘Locals wanted to work at US Embassy Malta.’ He wore a light blue shirt and blue trousers with a red stripe down the side, his highly polished shoes glinted in the sun. His hair was cut short, and he was clean-shaven.
Very professional.
The security guy walked to the driver’s side and stood far enough away. To the vehicle's side near the engine block – just in case the driver decided to kick the door open. But at the same time, he was close enough to hear and be understood.
Very well trained professional.
‘I’m here to see Section Chief Foster,’ Steel said, flashing his NYPD identification. The security guy took Steel’s ID and went to make a
phone call. Steel spent the time making a note of the security cameras and fencing, along with layouts of buildings. It was more habit than curiosity. They had quite a good set up he had to admit.
The security guard returned his attention on Steel. ‘The Chief is expecting you, sir, he’s over by the main building right over there,’ the guard said, pointing out a large limestone building. ‘However, your cab will have to wait outside or drop you here I’m afraid, sir.’ Steel smiled and took his ID back and put it away.
‘I might be a while, so you can drop me here Stan,’ Steel said passing over thirty euros to Stan’s delight.
‘You got my number chief, just call us when you want us,’ Stan said, shoving the cash away.
Steel stepped out of the red bus and slammed the door just in time as Stan reversed back out of the entrance and handbrake turned it like a pro. Steel and the guard just watched as the red van disappear again down the road, leaving a trail of black smoke and dust from the road. The guard had told Steel he had to go through a reception building first and pointed out a new looking red brick structure. He thanked the guy and walked past a large area with small trees and low bushes. A path of concrete slabs headed directly from the security box to the building, straight and true, all the way to the front door. Aesthetically, it made the front of the main gate of the embassy pleasant to look at.
Inside the reception building, it was crisp and fresh from an air-conditioner and brightly lit. The walls were painted an off-white, and grey ceramic tiles made covered the floor. There was a long reception desk with three people behind it. The side near another glass door was four metal detectors with x-ray machines and conveyors for personal items. It looked like a checking-in area of a small airport. There were posters, and notice-boards showed pictures of local sites, and a place on a wall that held flyers, which showed all the many tours that could be booked. Including Kane’s movie tour.
Steel strolled over to the desk and headed for the woman. From her whole demeanour, Steel could tell she was in charge. She was higher up than the others, whether she was taller or how the seats were arranged. She also had that look in her eye, the one that said: ‘I’m the boss.’
Steel went directly to her.
The woman’s smile was broad and showed off pearly white teeth. She was around five-ten and slender. Her long black hair was tied up into a ponytail. Her make up gave her an almost oriental look with pale skin, dark eyeliner and brilliant ruby red lipstick. She reminded Steel of the women from a Robert Palmer video re-run he had caught once on tv. Her black and white outfit, closing the deal on the image.
He smiled back and took out his NYPD badge and his passport. He knew from experience that military bases and government installations did not regard an ID as a valid form of identification, it was passport or nothing.
‘So, you are here to see Director Foster, correct?’ she said. Her voice was like silk, smooth and soft, there was a warmth about it that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. She was the full package.
Very sexy and great voice.
She should have been an interrogator, most men would admit anything after five minutes with this woman. He had seen that too. Sure there had been the hard-ass ones that would yell and scream, but they either scared you too much or just pissed you off and you kept quiet. But a woman like this would have a guy selling out his mother after just hearing her voice.
The woman behind the counter clicked a few keys on the keyboard and checked Steel’s ID and passport photo by holding them up in line with his face. She was thorough, he gave her that. Most people would have concentrated on is the photograph of a male, yes, name and date, but no one studied that hard on a picture.
She was competent, very professional.
‘Here is your visitor’s pass, please wear it on display the entire time, and the director will meet you outside the main building,’ she said. Pointing over in the direction of the massive limestone building. Steel went to leave but paused for a second.
‘Yes, is there anything else?’ she asked.
‘No, that’s fine, thank you,’ he said before headed for the x-ray machines and the way into the main building.
Steel passed through the metal detectors after emptying the contents of his pockets into a small grey plastic tray and placed it on the conveyor. As he took off his glasses, he was glad he had remembered to put his contacts in as well as having the sunglasses. He did not worry about the x-ray machine and the sunglasses, they would just register as a gadget with headphones in the arms. There were plenty of those on the market.
Steel walked through without setting off any alarms and reclaimed his items from the conveyor belt. Steel put his belt back on, and placing his things into his pockets, Steel ventured out of the security building, and into the sun.
Steel paused for a beat and slipped the sunglasses back on. It was a fantastic day, with blue skies and wisps of white cloud.
Steel looked over at the main embassy building and the surrounding grounds. There was a tall concrete wall that surrounded the area along with tall lamposts, fences. It was a great set up he had to admit.
He headed over to what he knew to be the embassy building from the online photographs. He had been surprised that they had their own social media page. It was a magnificent structure all limestone bricks and tinted windows. The same limestone blocks were used to create two columns supporting a glass overhang for the main entrance. Palm trees lined a mosaic pathway, and in the centre a brass badge of office of the US Embassy. The two-story building was a grand sight to behold.
As Steel approached, he saw Foster waiting impatiently at the entrance. Steel exercised his fists, getting them ready if he had to start using them. Foster looked over, shot Steel a look of anger. Steel’s pace quickened, he wanted answers, as well as breaking every bone in Foster’s body, but that would have to wait.
‘What the hell have you been doing, I said to be discreet in your investigation, keep under the radar?’ Foster mumbled, grabbing Steel by the arm and attempting to haul him around a corner. But Steel did not move, his feet suddenly anchored to the floor.
‘Foster, some goons kidnapped a woman and me this morning from your house?’ Steel said, his voice growled. ‘One of them was made out to look like you.’
‘Why were you at my house, and with a woman?’ Foster asked, stunned at the revelation.
‘Her name is Samara Malka, she’s Mossad, and we went there because we thought you were in danger, as it turns out, they were laying a trap for Samara,’ Steel said. Foster shook his head as if trying to comprehend what Steel was saying.
‘Steel, what the fuck are you talking about? and why the hell is Mossad involved?’ Foster pulled at Steel’s arm, urging him around the corner out of sight.
‘Where’s your family now, Foster?’ Steel asked. Trying to get back on point.
‘They went back to the States, they are stayin at Matha’s folks because they are too sick to travel.’ Foster paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and emotions. ‘I thought it best under the circumstances, the coroner hasn’t released the body yet. He is still doing his checks. Something about a backlog.’
‘So why didn’t you go with them?’ Foster shook his head and sighed.
‘I've been here, working. It stops me thinking about what happened. I think without really knowing how Lucy died, I won't be able to rest. So, I’ve been here, burying myself in this damned project that’s going online this weekend.’
Steel said, looking over at the Embassy building. ‘Foster, it’s time you told me everything.’
‘Project?’ Steel voice sounded grave. ‘What project?’
Foster’s eyes widened in panic. ‘The new software.’
‘How big of a deal is it?’ Steel asked.
‘Big enough,’ Foster said. Steel felt that Foster hadn’t brought him there just for a scolding, and his wife and kid weren’t just out of the country for a family visit.
‘Steel, how much do you know about f
acial recognition?’ Foster asked, leading Steel to the quiet of the pool house.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The sun beat down relentlessly on the island. Some found beaches to bask on, like seals. Others sought refuge in hotels or restaurants, unaccustomed to the dry heat.
It was seven in the morning, and the sun was high in an almost cloudless sky.
A perfect day – for some.
For others, it meant sitting and watching and doing not much of anything – except planning.
Aamir sat in the back of the large, white Toyota SUV. The two men in the front wore the usual jeans and check shirts, but this time they had large pilot style sunglasses, somewhat to Aamir’s amusement. To him, they looked comical, almost like they were trying to be the FBI or something.
If they had turned up in a blacked-out vehicle, Aamir did not think he would have been able to contain himself.
They had driven using several different routes, seeing which one was quickest, which one was more likely to be full of parked cars as a specific time. Which one had a line of sight to and from the target? Every route had a worst-case scenario, but ultimately they all converged onto one place – the target.
Planning and preparation.
They had made a note of everything.
The driver had taken more interest if there were any fast food places close to their base of operations.
The driver went to scratch his nose but winced in pain. He owed Samara a broken nose, from when she had rearranged his at the old barracks. The big man’s pride was hurt more than his nose, and she would pay for that as well.