The Pursuit

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The Pursuit Page 3

by Janet Evanovich


  “I’ll call my friend who left the guns for us in the park,” Jake said. “He can get us a rocket launcher.”

  “We don’t need a rocket launcher.”

  “Sure we do,” Jake said. “Nothing creates opportunity like a rocket-propelled explosive.”

  “It would also create an international incident. I’m going to be in enough trouble as it is.”

  Kate hadn’t informed her bosses, Special Agent in Charge Carl Jessup or Deputy Director Fletcher Bolton, that Nick had been taken, or that she was pursuing him to a foreign country. She couldn’t take the risk that they wouldn’t let her go.

  “Not if we don’t get caught,” Jake said.

  “We aren’t blowing up anything, Dad. Whatever we do will have to be quick and quiet.”

  “We’re dealing with the same thieves who drove a bulldozer through a jewelry store in Saint-Tropez in broad daylight and escaped in a speedboat,” Jake said. “So this might end quick, but it won’t end quiet.”

  Kate’s phone rang again. Same L.A. number. “Oh for the love of Pete,” Kate said, opening the connection. “Now what?”

  “You haven’t filed your form S-Q-zero-zero-niner,” Cosmo said.

  “I’m pretty sure I filed that,” Kate said, having no idea what he was talking about.

  “We can’t find it.”

  “If you call me again I’ll have you killed,” Kate said. “I can do it. I know people.”

  And she disconnected.

  Shortly after 1 A.M. on Saturday, a panel van drove up to the Executive Merchants Building’s underground parking garage on Lange Herentalsestraat, half a block down from the police kiosk at the intersection with Schupstraat.

  Nick was one of five men in the back of the van. Zarko, Vinko, Borko, and Dusko were on the team. Dragan was not. They were all dressed in regular street clothes.

  Zarko took a remote control out of his pocket, aimed it at the garage door, and pressed a button. The garage door rolled open. Even before they’d kidnapped Nick, the Road Runners had easily captured the frequency of the forty-year-old garage door system and programmed a remote to match it. It was easy because there were fifty-seven videos on YouTube that explained how to do it. There were no videos that explained how to get into the vault and bypass the multiple alarm systems.

  Nick and the four men spilled out of the van carrying duffel bags. They ducked under the garage door, and the last one, Zarko, closed it behind them. The van drove off, made a U-turn, and parked half a block down with the headlights off. The driver was sticking around as their lookout.

  —

  “They’re inside,” Kate told her father on her disposable cellphone. She stood in the shadowed alcove of a closed falafel joint on the west side of Lange Herentalsestraat, midway between the garage and the parked van where the driver was watching for signs of trouble. She cupped the phone in her hands so it wouldn’t emit any light. “One of the men is definitely Nick.”

  “It’s dark out and you’re twenty yards away,” Jake said from a car parked up the street, just above the intersection with Schupstraat and the police kiosk. “How can you be sure it’s him?”

  “I know how he moves.”

  He moved like a panther. She’d had the crazy urge to run out the instant she saw him, but Kate remained very still. She didn’t want to attract the attention of the driver in the parked van.

  “Now what?” Jake asked.

  It was a good question. She hated the idea of sitting there while one of the biggest heists in history was pulled off right in front of her. But her top priority was Nick. For a moment she considered overpowering the driver in the van and either taking his place or putting a gun to his head to get him to do as she wanted, but there were too many ways that scenario could go wrong.

  “We wait,” she said.

  —

  In the garage, the five thieves put on night vision goggles. Vinko went up to the locked door that led into the building and ran Litija’s tenant ID over the scanner. The door unlocked. Vinko bent down, stuck a rubber wedge under the door to keep it open, and the men headed down the main corridor. When they reached the lobby, Borko went off to deactivate the DVR in the control center while Nick and the three other men took the stairs down to the vault.

  They walked out of the stairwell into the foyer that faced the imposing vault door. Nick unzipped one of the tote bags he carried and removed a suction cup tool commonly used to carry heavy panes of glass. There was a vacuum-tab suction cup on either end of the horizontal handle. Nick placed one suction cup against the magnetic plate on the vault door, the other on the matching plate beside it, and pulled back the locking tabs. The suction cups held. He used an electric screwdriver to unscrew the magnetic plate from the doorjamb.

  Nick pocketed the screws and looked at Zarko, who stood in front of the vault door, bouncing on his heels, anxious to get started. The stitched cuts on Zarko’s face were swollen and red. Nick thought he should probably see a doctor about that.

  “You can open the vault now,” Nick said. “But very slowly.”

  Zarko entered the combination, turned the three-pronged spindle wheel to retract the locking pins, and pulled the heavy door open. As he did, the magnetic plate on the jamb came away with the door, dragging wires out of the wall socket. Nick stared at the magnetic plate. If it fell, they were finished. But the suction cup device kept the two plates together, maintaining the magnetic field as if the door was still closed.

  Nick watched closely to make sure the wires didn’t break. He waited until the door was open just wide enough for a man to enter the vault by slipping under the taut wires that were attached to the magnetic plate.

  “Stop,” he said.

  Zarko did. Now the iron gate was all that separated them from a bank of safe-deposit boxes filled with millions in diamonds.

  Zarko bounced on his feet again and tipped his head toward the gate. “How do we open it?”

  The other three Road Runners looked at Nick too, eager to see what he’d do next.

  “With a paper clip,” Nick said.

  Nick reached into his pocket. He held up a paper clip between his index finger and thumb for them to admire. The four men stared blankly at him.

  “Trust me,” Nick said. “Best tool ever designed by man.”

  Nick unbent the paper clip into a straight wire, went to the supply closet door, and effortlessly picked the deadbolt lock. He opened the door, reached inside the closet, and came out holding a bizarre four-sided key that looked both ancient and magical. The thieves stared, astounded.

  “How did you know it would be in there?” Dusko asked.

  “Human nature.” Nick slipped past the open vault door to get to the gate. “There’s only one key and the guards don’t want to lose it. They also want it handy if something ever goes wrong with the remote locking mechanism. So they hung the key in the closet. I’m sure it wasn’t kept here to start with, but it’s probably been there for at least a decade or two.”

  “Morons,” Zarko said.

  Nick slid the key into the gate’s lock. “That’s what happens when the same security people do a job for forty years without any incidents. They get lazy.”

  He opened the gate and slipped the key into his pocket as a souvenir. He reached up and stuck a piece of black electrical tape over the light sensor on the ceiling. He pulled off his night vision goggles.

  “You can turn on the lights now,” Nick said.

  Zarko hit him from behind with a lead sap, once to get him down, and once more to keep him there.

  —

  Kate was still standing in the dark alcove, leaning her back against the front door of the falafel joint, when she saw the garage door roll open at the Executive Merchants Building and the van begin to slowly drive up the street.

  She called her father. “They’re coming out.”

  Jake started his car but kept his headlights off. “I’m ready.”

  When the van passed Kate’s hiding place, she bolted a
cross the street and ducked behind a car that was parked close to the garage. The van stopped in front of the open garage. Four men carrying heavy duffel bags dashed out of the garage and jumped into the van. Nick wasn’t one of them.

  Damn!

  “Follow the van,” Kate said into her phone. “Don’t lose those men and the diamonds. Ram them and call the police if you have to.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To find Nick. He didn’t come out.”

  She stuck the phone into her pocket and got ready to move. The van drove off. The garage door started to come down. Kate raced for the garage, dove to the ground, and rolled under the descending door an instant before it closed.

  And this is why I don’t spend a lot of time ironing my clothes, she thought, getting to her feet, noticing that the knee was ripped out on her jeans.

  The door to the building was wedged open. Kate ran inside to the lobby, went straight for the stairs, and took them down to the bottom floor. The vault door was open, with some kind of suction tool stuck to the front and wires dangling from the wall. She ducked under the wires and into the vault. Nick was on the floor sprawled motionless among hundreds of mangled safe-deposit boxes, loose cash and papers, assorted jewelry, gold bars, silver coins, and scattered diamonds.

  Kate dropped to her knees beside him and quickly scanned his body for injuries. Blood matted the side of his head, but he was breathing, and his eyes were fluttering open.

  “Nick? It’s Kate. Can you hear me? Nick!”

  He winced as he regained consciousness. “Crashing headache,” he said. “Blurred vision. Think I see an angel.” He managed a small smile. “You found me.”

  “I swore to you a long time ago that I’d never let you get away.”

  “I didn’t think I’d ever be thankful for that,” he said.

  Kate helped Nick up, sitting him against the wall for support. “You have a concussion. We should take this slowly. I don’t think the police know about what just went down yet.”

  She surveyed the pile in the center of the vault. “There’s got to be millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry, diamonds, and cash that they left behind.”

  “It was an embarrassment of riches. They only took the very best and left when they had as much as they could carry. Not that I saw what happened. They took me out before the action started.”

  “You’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”

  Nick blinked hard, trying to focus his vision. “I’m no good to them dead. They wanted me to get caught to distract the police and buy them time to get away.”

  “They weren’t afraid you’d talk?”

  “What could I possibly tell the police that they don’t already know?”

  Kate gestured to the bank of safe-deposit boxes. Most of the slots had been forced open, but there were still at least a third of them that hadn’t been touched. “How did they decide which boxes to break open?”

  Nick’s head was starting to clear a bit. “No idea. I wasn’t involved in that part of the planning stage.”

  Kate’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She retrieved her phone and answered it. “Where are you, Dad?”

  “Still parked on the street.”

  Nick squinted at her. “You brought your dad?”

  “I told you to follow the thieves!” Kate said to Jake.

  “I don’t care about them or the diamonds,” Jake said. “I care about you. You have two minutes, maybe less. The police are swarming the place. I bet now you wish I’d gotten that rocket launcher.”

  “Get out of here and burn your phone.”

  She split open her own phone, removed the micro SIM card, and swallowed it.

  Nick stared at her in disbelief. “Did you just eat your SIM card?”

  “I don’t want anyone finding it. The phone is a disposable, and to my knowledge I didn’t make any traceable calls, but better safe than sorry.” She dropped the phone onto the floor, smashed it under her foot, and kicked the debris away. “The police are coming. Something must have triggered the alarm.”

  Nick had a sinking realization. He moved aside and glanced with dread behind him. He’d been leaning against the heat and motion sensor and had wiped the hairspray off it with his back.

  “You have to arrest me,” he said to Kate.

  “Think again. Get up, we’ll find a way out.” She reached for him but he resisted, grabbing her wrists to get her attention.

  “There’s only one way out of this vault,” Nick said.

  “You’ll find another,” she said. “You’re Nick Fox. That’s what you do.”

  “Not this time. You have to arrest me. If you don’t, we’ll both go to prison. You need to get in touch with Jessup. Find out what was in this vault. I’m thinking it might have contained more than diamonds.”

  They could hear a rumbling upstairs, like a herd of cattle running through the halls. The police were in the building. They had only a few seconds left.

  Kate took out her gun and tossed it onto the pile of stuff the thieves had left behind. “Lie facedown on the floor.”

  “You’re so hot when you take charge,” Nick said.

  Nick lay facedown on the floor, and Kate straddled him. She pinned one of his arms behind him, reached into her coat pocket with her free hand, and whipped out her badge just as a half dozen police officers spilled into the vault, their guns drawn.

  “I’m Special Agent Kate O’Hare, Federal Bureau of Investigation,” she said. “This man is mine.”

  Kate sat in an interrogation room that was just like every other one she’d ever been in. It had the same cinder block walls, the same piss-yellow fluorescent light, and the same dirty mirror that hid whoever was watching. The only difference was that this time she was the suspect being questioned.

  Chief Inspector Amelie Janssen sat across the table from her with notepad and pen. The detective’s shoulder-length hair had a just-got-out-of-bed wave to it. Probably because she’d just gotten out of bed. It was 4 A.M.

  “I can’t count all the laws that you’ve broken,” Janssen said. “If it were up to me, you’d be in handcuffs and ankle chains like any other common crook. But it’s not my decision. It’s up to the general commissioner, and she’s waiting to hear from the prime minister’s office, which is demanding an explanation from the U.S. ambassador in Brussels.”

  “I captured an international fugitive who is wanted in a dozen countries, including this one,” Kate said. “So instead of complaining, you should be congratulating me.”

  “You’re right. Where are my manners?” Janssen said. “Congratulations on helping the Road Runners pull off the biggest diamond heist in the history of Belgium.”

  “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “You certainly didn’t do anything to stop it. As far as I’m concerned, you’re an accessory after the fact.”

  “I apprehended the man responsible for the crime,” Kate said. “Or have you forgotten that?”

  “While the rest of the Road Runners got away with the diamonds,” Janssen said. “If you’d told us you were here and what you were doing, we could have staked out the building and captured them all in the act.”

  “I didn’t know there was going to be a robbery.”

  “Okay.” Janssen leaned back in her seat again. “So explain to me how you ended up in the vault with Nicolas Fox.”

  Kate had learned from Nick that the best lies were the ones that stuck as close to the truth as possible. So she followed his advice.

  “There were rumors for months that Fox had joined the Road Runners. So when I heard that Dragan Kovic and several members of his gang were spotted last week in Honolulu, I got on the first flight out there to see if they’d left any tracks,” Kate said. “They did. I found out where Dragan went to rent a car, then used the GPS records for the vehicle to retrace his movements for the few hours that he was on the island. That led me to the store where his gang bought their disposable phones, which have unique identifying numbers. With that inf
ormation, and some help from a friend at the NSA, I was able to pull the call records. There was only one call off the island.”

  “To the Executive Merchants Building,” Janssen said.

  “You got it.”

  “You should have notified us at that point.”

  “I didn’t have anything,” Kate said.

  “You had enough to go on to fly here and watch the building, hoping you’d spot Fox or a Road Runner who could lead you to him.”

  “Yes, but it was an outrageous long shot. I didn’t even tell my bosses what I was doing. I just cashed in some vacation time and booked a flight.”

  Janssen sighed and made a note to herself on the pad. Kate tried to read it upside-down, but it was in Flemish. “What happened next?”

  “Jet lag,” Kate said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I was sitting in a dark alcove across the street from the building and I fell asleep.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “I wish I was, because it’s humiliating. But I’d barely slept for the last week and I’d been watching the building all day. I was exhausted. When I woke up, a van was pulling away and the garage door was closing. It didn’t feel right so I made a run for it.”

  “You could have gone to the police instead. They were right up the street.”

  “I am the police,” Kate said.

  “Not here.”

  “It’s who I am everywhere, and since I only had a split second to act, my reflexes took over. I managed to roll under the garage door right before it closed,” Kate said. “I took the stairs down to the vault and discovered that the three-ton door was wide open. I was sure that the vault had been emptied, that the thieves were long gone, and that I’d slept through the heist. I lowered my guard, which is how Fox got the jump on me when I went into the vault. We fought and I won.”

  Janssen stopped taking notes and set her pen down. “What was Fox doing there?”

 

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