The Tahitian Pearl

by Sean Blaise

  It made sense. Something the facilitator gave to Alexi had caused him to be killed, and then someone had tried to attack Alexi himself. Alexi was obviously the key. But where did the Abdul character fit in? Was Alexi sending him on a wild goose chase to throw him off? Pierre had no idea, and he hated it.

  The English woman was beginning to cough dramatically in bed next to him and Pierre found himself now thoroughly annoyed with her presence. He blew a ring of smoke in her direction and she sat up angrily.

  "Could you not smoke in here?" She asked with her haughty British accent.

  Pierre was shocked. "I believe we are in my house, no?" he said, with more coldness in his voice than he was hoping for. She got up and stormed to the bathroom. So much more the riddance. Asking him if he was finished ten times during sex had made her persona non grata anyway.

  Pierre heard the phone ringing in his living room and got up with a grumble. He failed to cover himself as he walked towards the annoying ring. He spotted the woman in his bathroom mirror, tears slipping down her cheek.

  "Yes?" He asked his robe hanging open.

  "Sir, I think I've found something." It was the young German intern at Interpol headquarters. Germans did love to work.

  "What is it?" Pierre demanded hungrily.

  "The names from the hotel that you gave me to follow up on. I searched through the airport records, and only recovered three names who entered through it. As you know we photograph people entering Ville Franche now at customs upon arrival since the American attack on...."

  "Get on with it, son!" Pierre yelled. The woman walked out of the bathroom and saw Pierre on the phone. She looked at him questioningly, then focused her glance on his exposed member, which was swelling with his excitement. He could see the debate in her face and he suddenly hoped she would linger.

  "I went to put the pictures of those men who entered through the airport on your desk when I saw a picture you had there already that matched my own." Pierre had left the picture of Abdul on his desk there earlier in the day. "I thought there might be a connection. The man was Abdullah Nasser.”

  "Of course, it was. Thank you." Pierre said as he hung up the phone and the Englishwoman walked toward him.

  “Please Pierre, it’s been so long.... I'm just so nervous," she said, as her eyes implored him. He relented as she drifted to her knees in front of him, taking him into her mouth. He was already fully erect. More from the case than the woman, but who cared. He had a lead. Abdul was at the hotel where the facilitator Mr. Dubois was killed. Abdul attacked Alexi a week later in the Gulf of Aden. Abdul was his man. Alexi had something people were willing to kill to get.

  Chapter 82

  Dmitry bundled the unconscious man up without ceremony. He opened the large trunk of the Mercedes and rolled the man into it with no more difficultly than he did with Alexi's leather bags on business trips. Dmitry closed the trunk and saw John sitting on the curb. The young man was tough, but obviously unaccustomed to the kind of violence that Dmitry had just inflicted on the man in the trunk.

  Dmitry was bad at moments like this. He was a killer. It was something he had understood from an early age. He had morals of his own making, and with men like the one in the trunk, he had no fear of eternal retribution from taking from them what they took so easily from others. John was tough, but there was a difference between reacting to crisis and going on the offensive. They were most definitely on the offensive now. Then again, Dmitry knew that John had no clue what he was involved in. And that worried him.

  "We must go,” Dmitry said, wiping his hands on a bloody rag in front of him. John's eyes fixated on the rags, and Dmitry hurriedly shoved them into his pocket.

  "That man?"

  "Alive, for now," Dmitry said.

  "And Claire?"

  "Besides the name Raul, we do not have very much to go on. He said they will call in 12 hours. So, we wait."

  "Will we find her?" John asked looking up at Dmitry.

  Dmitry knew what he was supposed to say, but he was a terrible liar. “I don’t know, John. Alexi will move heaven and earth to find her and we can negotiate with very deep pockets. It's the best we can do."

  John nodded. He got up and walked over to the passenger side of the black Mercedes.

  "John," Dmitry said, putting his hand on John's shoulder. "It was necessary."

  "I know it was." John said hardly believing his own words. "And thank you for it."

  Alexi was waiting for John when they got back to the Ivana. Alexi had a hopeful look on his face that looked contrived, to say the least. John had to give him credit for trying.

  The crew was gathered quietly in the Ivana’s main salon, holding vigil for Claire. Alexi had told them the seriousness of the situation. They all hugged John in turn, and he tried to put on a brave face. Mary was the hardest one of all. She was wiping her eyes every five minutes and struggling to hold back her sobs. John gave her a hard squeeze.

  It was difficult for the crew. Not only did they just get back a crewmember that many had last seen being life flighted on a Russian helicopter dying from a gunshot wound, but his happy joyous return wasn't like it was supposed to be at all. They had lost yet another crew member. Captain Brown looked weary and exhausted, and Ingrid was stoic as ever. John saw her leave quickly and worried about her.

  Sweeney was visibly shaken as he hugged John. "Christ, man, I thought I lost you. And now this." He looked in John's eyes with questions. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, and so did John.

  Chapter 83

  The call came as expected. Tracing the call was pointless, Alexi knew. He hadn't even bothered with it. He had his doubts as to the motivation of the kidnapping, but he had a feeling it wasn't simply a matter of money. The voice on the other end was undisguised. Claire's kidnapper evidently felt comfortable enough at his trade to take this small risk.

  "I have the girl, Claire," Raul said.

  "Is she harmed?"

  "She pissed herself, but she is fine for now."

  The "for now" statement did not go unnoticed by Alexi. It was portentous to say the least.

  "What are your demands?"

  "We seek only one thing, the case."

  Ah, Alexi thought. This was worse than he had feared. A simple money ransom would have been far easier.

  "No," Alexi said without emotion.

  John, who was listening in the doorway, nearly ran into the salon to scream at Alexi, when Ingrid gripped his arm with an iron grip. Her eyes said everything. He knows what he is doing, they said. John shook his head with rage. How could Alexi, the man with everything, refuse anything to retrieve Claire! It was outrageous, and unthinkable.

  "No?" Raul replied, somewhat shocked.

  "No, for this, I would never negotiate for anyone, not even my own family. It is more valuable than any single person."

  "Then she will die,” the voice said, with a calm sureness that left no question as to its truth.

  "Then she will die,” Alexi said.

  That was too much for John, he ripped his arm out of Ingrid's hand and rushed into the salon with eyes filled with white-hot hatred for Alexi. Alexi held up his hand sternly and stood from his seat with a look that held John's anger at bay and forced him into silence.

  Raul was unsure of what to do. He hadn't anticipated a flat refusal like this. The Russian had left him no room for negotiation. "Goodbye, then," he said simply.

  Alexi spoke softly: "I did not say she is without value, just not valuable enough for the case. She has monetary value."

  "Oh?" Raul said beginning to think he could salvage something from this disaster.

  "I know your employer stated to get the case, they would pay you handsomely. However, they vastly underestimated my desire to keep it. I will not negotiate for it. However, were you to return my employee safely to me, I would reward you handsomely for it. Unlike your employer, who will state that you have failed, I will not order you to simply kill an innocent girl. I propose that I give you
fifty thousand dollars, for your efforts. In exchange, you tell your current employer that I refused to negotiate and that you killed the girl as agreed."

  "Do you think my loyalty can be purchased so cheaply?" Raul asked.

  "Is your loyalty blind and stupid? Your employer will give you nothing further without the case, and I will never give it to you. I will give you fifty thousand in cash today for the girl, all you have to tell your employer is that we didn’t negotiate, and you failed to get the case. No one will know the truth but us."

  "And if I refuse?"

  "I will simply spend 50 million to hunt you down, and every family member you have ever loved, and I will slaughter them all. It is your choice," Alexi said. John’s face registered shock at Alexi’s statement. Torture now this? Maybe Mr. Clark was right about Alexi after all.

  "You will never find me," Raul said, trying to hide the grip of fear he felt in the back of his throat.

  "Do you really think you can hide, Raul? Why leave empty handed? Your employer will think you failed, you will be rich, and you can start over."

  Raul was shocked. They knew his fucking name! Alexi Popovich was a deadly man and his current employer wasn't paying nearly as much as Alexi.

  "Very well. Mumbai Hotel, 3 PM. No tricks."

  "None."

  "You are a convincing man, Mr. Popovich."

  "And I am also, now, your employer. I will also need the name of your former employer."

  “I’ll give you what I know when I get the money," Raul said as he hung up the phone.

  Chapter 84

  Alexi reached into the safe in his master bedroom on the Ivana and grabbed the heavy blocks of cash. He placed them carefully into a metal case, stacking the bills neatly.

  Dmitry came into the room. He stared at the money and then back at Alexi. Alexi held his hand out, and Dmitry handed him the insert. Alexi looked it over with a practiced eye.

  "Same as the one in Turkey?" Alexi asked. Dmitry simply nodded. Alexi pushed the thin insert into the top of the case's lid. It clicked in with a snap. As Alexi ran his hand over it, it was impossible to detect that it was an add-on to the case and not an original part. Besides, most people would be looking down at the bricks of cash in the case, not at the top of the lid.

  The insert, was comprised almost entirely of Semtex. The case had an approximate kill radius of fifty feet. Inside the top of the insert was a simple cell phone receiver. If Dmitry dialed the number, the case would turn whomever was near the case into tomato paste.

  Alexi didn't like to be held up. In fact, he hated it. He had no intention of hiring the man who had abducted and hurt his crew member. He had only one concern, retrieving her safely and getting payback.

  Alexi loaded the last of the money in the case and closed it with a snap. He handed it to Dmitry, "you know what to do."

  John entered the Master suite just as Dmitry stood up. "Is that it? The ransom?"

  Alexi nodded. John rushed up and hugged Alexi "Thank you, sir. I appreciate you doing it.”

  Alexi pushed John back, as he shook his head. "John, I don't care about the money. It's not about the money. Trust me, I would pay anything to have her safe."

  "Wait. Is he going to get her back? I need to be there. I need to go. She needs to see me first,” John said.

  Alexi looked at Dmitry who quickly shook his head, “no.” Alexi looked at John and knew there was no way to tell him no, no matter how badly he wanted to protect him in case something went wrong. "Go with Dmitry, follow his lead. But, please, stay safe."

  John turned and headed after Dmitry. "Dmitry, get John a gun." John looked back at Alexi when he heard this and nodded. He knew it was time to stop pretending everything was ok. They were at war, and he was no coward.

  Chapter 85

  Dmitry and John sat in the Mumbai hotel lobby as arranged. John was twitching uncontrollably, his foot bouncing with the erratic beating of his pounding heart. He had never been in a situation like this before. He could hardly believe the past month. Dmitry gave John a sharp look, and he managed to stop the tremor in his leg briefly before it started up again.

  The gun was hanging heavy in the shoulder holster under his jacket. John could feel heat coming from it. He knew it was probably his imagination, but he was anxious all the same. He had used a gun before in the military training and was a great shot. But he had never actually shot at somebody before.

  He corrected himself. That wasn’t true anymore. He had shot someone not long ago, when he had killed that man with the spear gun. Suddenly, the tremor in his leg stopped as he remembered it. He didn't know how he felt about shooting that man. Deliberately avoiding thinking about it was his tactic for all things bad in his life. But he did feel a strange calmness settle over him now. He knew he could do what was necessary when the time came.

  Dmitry's phone blinked with a text message. He frowned as he read it, then he texted a reply back. He picked up the phone and spoke for a split second to Alexi in Russian. It was fast and John understood nothing. Dmitry hung up and closed the phone and began looking around the hotel lobby. John cleared his throat. Dmitry turned and looked at him without offering anything.

  "Well?" John asked.

  "They are bringing her here to us in the lobby. Do not get up or make sudden moves. Stay seated until she is seated next to you. Understand?"

  John nodded. Dmitry scanned the room with the quiet practice of a man used to these kinds of situations. John watched him closely and admired his flat, calm, demeanor. Dmitry, who was he? Who the hell was Alexi for that matter? They were obviously used to, and practiced in, these espionage tactics. Maybe Mr. Clark had been right.

  John's own phone vibrated in his jacket. Dmitry watched him closely and John swallowed hard when he saw the icon: Mr. Clark. The most innocuous name in the world for someone who scared the living hell out of John. He clicked on the icon and a terse message filled the screen.

  Raul is part of the Chumbay Gang, low-level thug. They have a hideout I’m working on getting an address for.

  John already knew the hotel location, since he was now in the lobby, but he was impressed nonetheless at the reach of Mr. Clark. How much had Mr. Clark's dated information cost him? Dmitry raised an eyebrow looking at John. "It’s nothing," John said. Dmitry shrugged and continued to scan the room.

  Dmitry suddenly noticed someone that didn't fit. An Asian man, dressed as if for a business meeting; and, yet, everything about the man was wrong. All of it was wrong. The man looked uncomfortable in his suit and there was a small red chaffing around his neck where his collared shirt bit too deeply.

  A truly seasoned businessman, as the man wanted to appear to be, would have been used to it or who have had the good sense to buy a properly fitting shirt. This man wasn't what he appeared to be at all. The man looked up at Dmitry. But the man quickly scanned his eyes through Dmitry's, at far too fast a rate for normal eye contact. Dmitry wondered idly if it had anything to do with the text messages coming to John's phone.

  Dmitry had seen John make the phone call when he was torturing the man in the car. Who he called was unclear, but Dmitry needed to find out. He would bring it up to Alexi when the handoff was over.

  Chung-Ho knew he'd been spotted. The large Russian was obviously professional, and Chung-Ho knew he'd glanced up too quickly. When, earlier in the day, Raul had called him and said the Russian refused to trade, Chung-Ho had given the order to have Claire killed.

  He'd become suspicious when Raul had immediately agreed. No one, not even hardened criminals agreed to kill so quickly: not without at least asking for more money first. Chung-Ho had followed Raul to the hotel when he noticed the two men enter and sit. Chung-Ho realized the Russian probably had made a deal, but not the one Chung-Ho and Pyongyang wanted. They had been double crossed by Raul.

  John's hands shook. He knew he had to tell Dmitry about Clark. But how? His phone vibrated again.

  I am tracking your phone, but you should know it was tapped already.
Alexi is watching too. I will be in touch.

  Alexi is watching you, too. His phone was tapped. What the hell was going on?

  "John," Dmitry said, for the third time. “Here they come," he said pointing at the hotel doors. And then John saw Claire.

  Chapter 86

  Claire looked awful. Her hair was disheveled, and she was wearing the same clothes he had seen her taken in. He saw a vivid purple beginning to creep into her left cheek, where she had obviously been hit. Rage poured into John like a monsoon, and he reached for his gun when he heard Dmitry say in commanding voice, "don't even think about it."

  John stared hard at the thug who had done this to her. He was furious they were giving this piece of shit a briefcase of money for returning Claire to them.

  The man was holding her arm loosely like someone who had paid for a hooker and now wanted to make sure she left. He was big, a bruiser, with a blunt, ugly nose that was fitting for his occupation. John realized, looking at the man, that there was no other occupation that his face could ever have been associated with. There were two smaller men behind him, obviously the help.

  Claire found John's eyes. John was bruised, but he was ok. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had never seen his eyes so hard before. In fact, she had never seen him angry. It shocked her; he looked as dangerous as her abductors.

  The men approached the couch and the one with Claire sat down across from Dmitry. Dmitry, as always, looked imperceptibly bored. The man had ice water for blood, John thought.

  "You have it?" Raul asked.

  Dmitry slide the money case along the floor. The man popped the locks on the floor and glanced quickly inside. He reached into one of the stacks of cash at the bottom and pulled out a crisp hundred dollar note. A marker pen came swiftly out of his jacket and he checked the bill for counterfeits. It passed. He grunted, his pug face smiling as much as it could to be considered a smile. He looked up at the man holding Claire and nodded. The man released her arms and she flew to John. He grabbed her and held her sobs to his chest.