by J C Ryan
Mademoiselle Lemaire, are you aware of the procession you’re leading through the streets of Ho Chi Minh City? Two Russians, two men of unknown origin, a former assassin, and a big black dog? The only things missing to make this a carnival are screaming crowds, streamers, and a big brass band.
It was indeed a parade, of which Margot seemed completely unaware. Of the missions of the three sets of followers, the only one whose purpose he knew was his and Digger’s. The others remained a mystery, particularly because neither of the others was making a move on Margot, and neither did the first and second group seem to be aware of the other or him and Digger. Rex grinned as the thought crossed his mind that if some cosmic watcher had been viewing it from above, it would make a great silent-films comedy.
Despite being asked by Rex about the meaning of all of this, not even the all-knowing Digger had any ideas—or none that he wanted to share with Rex.
***
FOR SEVERAL HOURS, the three groups followed Margot as she enjoyed a leisurely walk punctuated by visits into various shops, and the only contingent who seemed to be aware of it all was Rex’s. He noted she went into a shop specializing in modern Western maternity clothing. The Russians didn’t seem surprised, but it caused some consternation between the second set, judging from the all-but-silent, intense conversation, complete with big arm gestures and violent shaking of heads that ensued.
While Rex waited for Margot’s reappearance, he decided it would be good to know who the second set were. Accordingly, he sent Digger to get a little closer so the comms unit could pick up the language they spoke. By the time Margot reappeared, he knew they were speaking French. He recalled Digger and set off to follow again as the procession resumed.
French? No real surprise there—after all, she is French and an important one at that, well at least to the new President, it seems. So, what is the role of those Frenchmen following her in all of this? Protection? From whom and what? Surveillance? Well, that’s obvious but to what end?
Could they be DGSE? If so, Margot could be involved in something BIG here. Good or bad? Maybe it isn’t about her pregnancy at all.
So, what could it be? Some underhanded dealings with the Russians? But that doesn’t make sense. In that case, why would the Russians tail her without her knowledge? Is there some kind of secret deal about to go off between the French and the Russians and Margot, the French emissary? But why choose Vietnam for such a meeting? Here the French and Russians stick out like sore thumbs.
Shit, Rex Dalton, you are one paranoid son of a bitch. Well, that might be so, but that's no reason to get careless, either.
As the day wore on, there were no further revelations. Rex’s logic couldn’t account for all the factors, no one was talking and providing more clues, and Digger was no help in unraveling the mystery at all. Rex took a fistful of Digger’s fur between his shoulders and tugged gently, then let go of it and scratched the spot vigorously, his apology for unfairly thinking his companion had been no help. It was because of Digger that he knew the identities of either set of followers.
“Sorry, buddy. Look, this is pointless. Let’s break off, go get you something to eat, and wait for a chance to talk to her, shall we?”
Digger’s attention turned eager when he heard the word ‘eat’. He grinned his trademark grin and wagged his tail once in either direction. It was a clear sign he approved of Rex’s plan.
To be certain he knew when Margot returned, Rex got that roast chicken he’d been thinking about since breakfast and returned to the same spot where he and Digger had kept vigil before. The restaurant served nothing but pho, and while that was a very tasty dish, it just wasn’t filling enough for him or for Digger. But to placate the owners for bringing his own food to eat at their tables, he ordered a bowl for himself anyway.
***
AT MID-AFTERNOON, AND with nothing in her arms to show for her hours-long shopping trip, Margot returned. Rex searched the opposite side of the street and spotted the followers; the Russians almost parallel with him on the other side, and the French about a block behind them on the same side of the street. They’d made themselves at home on a shelf-like protrusion of one shipping crate that was topped by others in an arrangement that left a nook between two crates in the next layer. It was far better concealment than the Russians had chosen, and it gave Rex the impression that the French followers were better at their jobs than the Russians, who seemed to him a bit amateurish at the best of times.
Chapter 38
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
HOURS LATER, THE sun had begun to sink when Rex saw the captain and another man, he presumed to be the first mate, leave the yacht in a jovial mood. They were talking loudly, laughing, and nudging each other. Rex thought their mood signaled a night on the town.
This could be my opportunity to get to Margot to try to clear up these mysteries.
He’d have to wait for darkness, though.
In another fortunate break, he saw the Russians split up, the big one following the captain and his companion. Then the French did the same. That left only two to contend with if the need arose.
While he waited, he thought about how to approach the yacht. He’d seen no indication of security patrols or cameras the night before. He and Digger hadn’t been bothered by anyone, but he couldn’t be certain there were no cameras trained on the vessels moored to the piers. Before he risked approaching the Java Princess, he’d need to know. He freed the satphone and called Rehka.
After the usual protocols and a few pleasantries, Rex asked, “Can you let me know if I have to evade any security cameras to get on that yacht? I’m planning to go onboard in the next three to four hours.”
“I’ll check it out,” she replied.
An hour later, she reported that there were indeed security cameras, but there was only one person apparently monitoring them from a central location. She’d found one person in the monitor room, and he didn’t seem very attentive to the bank of monitors. He seemed more attentive to the bottle of Mekong whiskey on his desk and the girlie magazine he was reading. “In another two to three hours he might not be able to even see the monitors,” Rehka laughed.
“I still wouldn’t want to take a chance, though. Can you record a loop and send it to the right monitor when I tell you to?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
An hour after that, she called again and told him she was ready to switch the feed to her loop on his signal.
“Good deal. I’m going to wait another hour, at least. There’s still too much activity on the docks, and I still haven’t figured out how to get on the yacht without the others noticing.”
“Why do you care if they notice you? They don’t know who you are.”
“Good point. Okay, let me just check a few more things. Wait for my signal.”
Shortly before midnight, Rex and Digger stealthily approached Brawn’s position to find out what he was doing and were not entirely surprised to hear the loud snoring sounds coming from his position under a palm tree. The empty vodka bottle next to Brawn explained the Russian’s condition and assured Rex that he was not going to wake up soon. If he woke up, which didn’t look like it would be soon, it would probably be with the mother of all headaches—not alert and fighting fit.
Next, Rex and Digger furtively went around to the Frenchman’s position. He was awake and alert, so Rex and Digger watched him for about half an hour and established that he’d worked out a routine to stay awake. The routine included him sitting down for a while, then moving to a different spot where he would sit down again. Every now and then he did a few stretches and pushups or walked about as if on a patrol round. Nothing he did gave Rex the idea that the man posed a threat.
Chapter 39
Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
IT WAS NEARING one a.m., and the full moon hadn’t risen yet when Rex sent Digger on a final round to check out the Russian and Frenchman before he made his way back closer to the port entrance. He then walked down the midd
le of the street, feigning casual confidence, toward the yacht. He’d left Digger concealed in the restaurant bushes with his comms unit and camera on, so he could monitor the situation outside while he was on the yacht.
When he got to the right pier, he walked up the gangplank as if he had every right to be there. He expected Margot would be surprised, probably shocked, and if she didn’t know about her entourage, almost definitely angry. He crowded close to the cabin door before knocking. As soon as she opened the door, he pushed his way in and closed the door quickly.
As Rex expected, chaos immediately ensued as Margot started screaming and ran from him. Rex moved quickly to restrain her and get her to stop screaming and calm down. But that was easier said than done, because she obviously hadn’t recognized him and must have been thinking of him as an intruder who meant her harm. By the time he caught up with her, she had run into the galley, seized a large pan, and swung it wildly at him.
He evaded it easily, shouting, “Margot! Margot, it’s me, Rowan Donnelly!” while dodging the second swing.
When he straightened back up after ducking under her swing, he saw she’d stopped trying to crown him with the pan and was looking at him in utter astonishment.
“Rowan? How…? What…?”
Rex felt bad about scaring her like that. He started to apologize, stuttered, and stopped. Feeling like a total idiot, not knowing what the right thing would be to say in the moment, he just grinned at her. Finally, he got his voice and said, “Put down the weapon of mass destruction, and I’ll explain.”
As she set the pot back down on the counter, he could see the recognition had finally reached her brain, and her expression turned from shock and astonishment to pure fury. “You’d better have a good explanation, you creep!” Her eyes were blazing. “You’ve been stalking me. Haven’t you? You pervert.”
Rex had expected her to react with aggression, but being called a creep and a pervert, he didn’t. “Margot…please…”
“Don’t you Margot me! What the hell are you doing here? I’m…”
In an effort to not annoy her any further by looking her in the eyes, Rex turned his gaze from her to the floor for a fleeting moment. He heard her move and was just in time to see her hand moving toward an electronic control on the wall. In a flash, he’d covered the small distance between them and grabbed her wrist.
“Let go of me, you bastard!”
“Margot, calm down. Please listen to me. I think you might be in danger. I’m not here to hurt you or interfere in your plans. Just let me explain.”
Her eyes narrowed, indicating another realization had just dawned on her.
“How do you know I’m Margot?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! I make friends with this nice woman, who told me her name was Jacqui Madrolle, while on holiday in Vanuatu. One day, this friend of mine, Jacqui, made a breakfast date with me, but stupid me was soon to find out she had no intention to keep the date. She went missing. And being such a good friend, I was worried, reported her missing, and the next thing I know, Digger and I found ourselves in police custody being accused of complicity, if not engineering the disappearance of the Press Secretary of the President of France, one Mademoiselle Margot Lemaire. Of course, I had no idea what they were talking about until I finally realized my good friend, Jacqui Madrolle, was one and the same person as this Margot Lemaire they were going on about.
“Oh, and by the way, it was thanks to your friend, Ida’s deliberate lies to the police that I was a suspect in your disappearance for several hours.
“After the police told me who you really are, I googled you and discovered what a big fool you’ve made of me. You, Mademoiselle Margot Lemaire, have caused a world-wide incident. Not to mention how much you’ve disappointed me.” Rex took a deep breath and was about to launch into another rant to tell her that she’d also succeeded in reinforcing his dim view of politicians, but then noted the tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” she whispered.
“No, you obviously didn’t.”
Margot’s shoulders were now shaking as she surrendered to the sobs.
Rex’s heart went soft as he also remembered that she was pregnant. He took a step closer put his arms around her and pulled her against him. “Margot, sorry about that. Those were the last words about that matter you’ll ever hear from me.
“Let’s rather talk about the reason why I am here, okay?”
She nodded and sniffed.
“Did you know you have two sets of tails following you everywhere? One group of two Russians and one group of two Frenchmen.”
“No, of course not! Why would anyone follow me? Why would you follow me?”
Rex huffed in frustration. Come on, lady, focus!
“I followed you because I thought you might have been kidnapped. The police were convinced you’d gone for a swim and met with an untimely death.”
Margot shuddered. “I’d never go for a swim in those waters! You know that.”
“So you told me, and I believed you, and therefore that’s exactly what I told the Vanuatu police and the French detective from Paris as well. They didn’t believe me and insisted you either committed suicide or drowned by accident. Whatever the cause, as far as they are concerned, you’re dead. But it’s obvious the Russians and French on your tail know different.”
“So, how did you know I’m not dead?”
“Because I believed you when you told me you’re afraid to go into the sea, and I was sure you didn’t commit suicide. So, I asked Digger to find you. He tracked you to the docks, and a little questioning of a few witnesses convinced me you’d gotten on a yacht, but I didn’t know whether it was voluntary or not. So, I followed you.”
Margot’s expressive face had gone through a range of emotions since he’d first shoved his way in. Right now, it was back to bewilderment at his statement. “How?”
“Never mind that now. The question is why are the others following you?”
“Rowan, I know after all I did to you there’s no reason to trust me, but please believe me, I had no idea that anyone was following me. I don’t know who they are and why they would be following me… Do you have any idea?”
Rex then painstakingly explained that he’d become aware of the first group not long after he’d arrived the day before, and he’d determined they were Russian.
Her eyebrows flew up as if she’d heard about the Russians for the first time. She was clearly still dealing with the shock, and her brain was struggling to keep up, process, and retain everything.
Rex went on to tell her he’d discovered Ida Engberg was directing the Russians, which caused her to drop her jaw, and then, that two French-speaking men were following the Russians. By now, Margot had dropped onto a nearby lounge chair, pallid and shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Rex went to her and put his hand on her shoulder and said, “So, Margot, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me… if you know… Who are these people and why are they following you? Are you in danger? Or do you really know about either or both groups, and you’re lying to me again?”
“Again? When have I ever lied to you?” Her indignation was genuine, he thought.
“Um, I don’t know, Jacqui, let’s see… when have you lied to me?”
She had the grace to blush. “Oh, that. Well, that wasn’t specifically lying to you. I was just trying to be incognito on Vanuatu, so I could enjoy my holiday. I told everyone that was my name.”
“I get that. And in that case, how did Ida know you were someone of importance? She was spying on you even then. You realize that, don’t you?”
Margot shook her head. “This is … this is… just too much, Rowan.” She started crying again.
Rex put his arm around her shoulder again and waited.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I don’t understand. Ida’s Swedish. Why would she be directing Russians to follow me?”
“If it’s any conciliation, she
also had me believing she’s Swedish, until I heard her speak to the Russian men last night out there on the pier. Believe me, she’s not Swedish, she’s Russian...”
Margot pointed to the outside in the direction of the pier. “Are you saying those men are all out there watching me. Right now?”
“Well, at the moment, there’s one Russian and one Frenchman out there. The other two followed the two men who were with you on the yacht earlier, I take it the captain and his first mate, into town.”
Margot stared at him for a long while before she spoke again. “And how do you know they won’t turn up here any moment?”
Rex smiled. “Don’t you worry about that. Digger is watching them and will let me know if they come closer.”
“Digger! Digger is here? Outside?” Margot’s face was beaming.
Rex grinned and said, “Yeah, he’s out there. He told me to say hi.”
That little interlude about Digger was the turning point. From then on, Margot seemed to get hold of herself, and the conversation started flowing much better.
Rex continued with his questioning. “And you don’t have a French security detail? You don’t know who they are, either?”
“No, on both counts.”
Rex knew the answer to his next questions, but he wanted to hear them from her. “Margot, why are you here? Why was it necessary to slip away in secrecy?”
She blushed again but lifted her chin as if in defiance. “I’m pregnant.”
Rex managed to hide his relief that she wasn’t hiding it from him. “Thanks for being honest, Margot. I know that you’re pregnant.”
“So that was a test?”
Rex nodded.
“But how did you …”
Rex held the palm of his right hand up as a stop signal. “Again, not of importance for now, Margot. What I need to know is, since when is being pregnant enough reason to mislead people and fake your death and cause all this trouble?”