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Hardly a day goes by without at least one act of terrorism taking place somewhere in the world. A terrorist group described in Paper Tiger is a product of the author's imagination. Some of their motives and goals closely resemble those which inspire actual acts of terrorism.
Hardly a day goes by without at least one act of terrorism taking place somewhere in the world. A terrorist group described in Paper Tiger is a product of the author's imagination. Some of their motives and goals closely resemble those which inspire actual acts of terrorism.
Hardly a day goes by without at least one act of terrorism taking place somewhere in the world. A terrorist group described in Paper Tiger is a product of the author's imagination. Some of their motives and goals closely resemble those which inspire actual acts of terrorism.
Paper Tiger Copyright 2012 by Greg Marion. Kv3 Excerpt from Red Sky Morning copyright 2012 by Greg Marion All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted by a reviewer in a newspaper or magazine or as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Thank you for respecting the authors rights.
Cover of Paper Tiger by Greg Marion Copyright 2013. All rights reserved.
Authors website: gregmarion.com Email: gregmarion@outlook.com The author is not responsible for websites not owned by the author. ISBN-13: 978-0-9914141-1-6 ISBN-10: 099141411X
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my wife, Rose, who has long encouraged me to be a writer. And also to my mother, the late Elaine Marion, who taught my brothers and sisters and I to appreciate literature from the time we were old enough to turn pages.
Authors note
Though the terrorist group described in Paper Tiger is a product of my imagination, I believe that some of their motives and goals closely resemble those which inspire actual acts of terrorism we hear of in the world today. Though no internationally accepted definition for terrorism exists just yet, the term is usually used to describe violent acts designed to exploit fear and are perpetrated for political, religious, or ideological goals, often with complete disregard for human life. It seems that hardly a day goes by without at least one act of terrorism taking place somewhere in the world. Sadly, the victims of these crimes are often the weak, the innocent, or even young children who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. My purpose in fictionalizing and writing of a terrorist group is not to foster veneration for their violent actions, nor is it simply an attempt to delight readers, but rather to point out that greed, selfishness, and cowardice are always at the core of their agenda. Countering this scourge is in the interest of all nations, and I pray that the strategies and actions currently being implemented to combat terrorism will be successful, and that a mentality which is respectful of the brotherhood of man along with a passion for freedom and human rights will one day reach around the world. May God help us in this.
Greg Marion
The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process, is its own reward. ~Amelia Earhart
-PROLOGUE- Monday, December 22, 2014 Scottsburg, Virginia
The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. ~Thomas Jefferson
The stars in the eastern sky had begun to fade, one by one, signaling the arrival of a new day. For some, this would be a bright and promising new chapter in lifes great book. For others, a grim and unexpected ending. The predawn light cast itself gradually over the clearing of thick brown grass at the rear of the great lodge, which had been built high upon the distant hill long ago. Daniel Morris adjusted his night-vision binoculars, then looked up at the lodge, checking again for movement. On the second-floor of the house, a light came on. Moments later, another. He listened carefully for sounds, noticing his breath as he exhaled into the frigid air. At the edge of the clearing, he spotted a thick, fallen tree. He crawled over to it on his belly, cautious to avoid being seen or heard. When he had reached the spot, he rolled onto his back and rested for a brief moment. He looked up through the bare branches and noticed a dark and ominous cloud moving quickly from the north. Carefully, he rolled back onto his belly and raised his binoculars over the top of the log, peering up at the lodge once again. A downstairs light had been turned on, which Morris knew was in the kitchen. Several minutes later, he heard the sound of a screen door shut and saw a small groupthree menas they made their way down the wide stairs at the rear of the lodge and began to head across the clearing. Each man was carrying a rifle and wearing the required orange hunting vest. Morris glanced down at his own rifle, a Weatherby .460, and gave it a cursory inspection. As the men reached the center of the clearing, one of them waved to the others, said a quiet word or two, then headed off on his own. This, Morris knew, was probably Martin Van Essen. Morris adjusted his binoculars once again and zoomed in on the mans face, recognizing him from the numerous photos and videos he had studied. He watched carefully as Van Essen reached the edge of the woods and proceeded down a narrow path leading into the thick of the forest. Once Van Essen was out of sight, Morris looked around, then stood to remove his black poncho, which he quickly folded and placed into one of the pockets of his hunting jacket. He also took a
moment to roll the black ski mask up from his face, forming it into a small hat covering only his head. Using a thin branch, he stirred the leaves on the ground where he had lain, then left to follow Van Essen. While stepping cautiously and quietly through the narrow trail, Morris thought about this assignment, his first since being hired. He wondered why his employer wanted this particular man, age 41, eliminated. In truth, Morris knew little about Van Essen, other than that he had a comfortable home located only forty minutes from Langley. Thus, Morris suspected that Van Essen was a company man. Probably a CIA field agent, he thought. Or perhaps a double agent. Morris checked his watch and saw it was 7:15 a.m. The sun would rise in about ten minutes. As he glanced upward, however, he could tell that the daylight would be abated by the dark clouds now covering the sky. As he continued along the trail, Morris recalled receiving the assignment by way of his newly implanted communication device, which had been surgically inserted under the skin of his auditory canal. This small apparatus, only about the size of a pea, allowed him to receive messages from his employer. In addition, it allowed him to make brief recordings. The device was controlled by a special ring which Morris wore on his right third finger. One side of the ring was made of platinum, which could be held close to the implanted device to begin recording. The other side, which appeared to be inlaid with gold, was used to stop the recording or turn off the device entirely. Morris was told that he was one of the first men in the world to have one of these implanted. About one hundred yards ahead, Morris spotted Van Essen standing at the top of a hill. Quickly, Morris ducked behind a tree and watched as Van Essen continued walking until he was once again out of sight. Morris glanced around for a moment, then headed up the hill. This, the prestigious James River Hunting Preserve, consisted of over 7,000 acres of private hunting land. Morris knew that only a few hunters would be on the property this close to the holiday. He also recognized that it was just as important to finish the job as it was to do so without being spotted. According to the financial records which Morris had accessed, Van Essen had been coming here each Christmas season for almost ten years.
This, however, would be his last hunting trip. While proceeding quietly up the slope, Morris noticed that large snowflakes had started to fall. As he finally reached the top of the hill, he crouched down and looked around. Using his binoculars, he scanned the area below. At the bottom of the hill, he saw that the woods gave way to a large clearing of snow and tall grass. As he focused, he spotted a large whitetail buck in the distance. The animal had a rack of perhaps twelve points, and probably weighed well over two hundred pounds. Morris searched the lower hillside and soon saw Van Essen, who had apparently spotted the deer too and was preparing to take aim from behind a thick tree. Morris stood and began to move closer to Van Essen. As he stepped from the trail, he failed to notice a long, dry branch lying in his path. As he stepped onto the branch, it snapped with a loud cracking sound. At that, the deer looked up for a brief moment, then darted away. With a few quick leaps, the buck disappeared from sight into the thick woods. Morris looked down at Martin Van Essen, who he noticed was now looking up at him. For a long tense moment the two stared at each other. Finally, Van Essen breathed a deep sigh, then shook his head and turned away. As he began to step toward the clearing, Morris looked around. Seeing no one, he raised his rifle and put his eye into the scope. Once he had his target in the crosshairs, he prepared to pull the trigger. Suddenly, Van Essen stopped and turned to see that Morris had his weapon raised and pointed at him. Before he could react, however, Morris squeezed the trigger and fired one shot. The bullet found its mark, striking Van Essen in the left chest. Looking through the scope, Morris watched his victim fall to the ground, face up. He then lowered his rifle and looked around once again before he dashed down the hill. Once he had reached the body, he made a quick assessment and deduced that the bullet had pierced Van Essens heart. He pulled his hunting glove from his hand, leaving his thin latex glove in place. He carefully assessed the victim for a pulse or respirations, but there was neither.
Quickly, Morris removed Van Essens wallet from his pocket and checked it to be sure. His Virginia Driver License showed he was Martin Van Essen. Date of birth: February 26, 1973. Date of death, he thought, December 22, 2014. Morris slid the wallet back into Van Essens pocket. As he began to turn away, he looked and saw that the victims right glove had a trigger seam, and that his fingers were outside the glove. This, of course, would be normal for someone who was preparing to fire a rifle. Looking closer, however, Morris noticed that Van Essen was wearing a ring on his right third finger. He crouched down and saw that the ring appeared to be platinum on one side and had a gold inlay on the other. Seeing this, Morris quickly turned Van Essens head to one side and glanced into his ear. There, he noticed the telltale bump at the bottom of his ear canal. At that, a sudden chill came over him. At once, Morris jumped to his feet and ran back up the nearby hill from where he came. Trembling, he stopped to glance back at the body for a brief moment, then shook his head in grief and continued running. If he could escape unseen, his first assignment would be a success, and this dark chapter would be behind him. In his heart, however, he mourned. He felt a sense of overwhelming anguish and regret, knowing he had just shot and killed one of his own kind. A rare and endangered species at that. A Presidents Agent.
-PART I- Six years later. Saturday, August 1, 2020 Tokyo, Japan
In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happens, you can bet it was planned that way. ~Franklin D. Roosevelt
Chapter 1
The flight had been unusually rough. I had to deal with plenty of turbulence, a snooty flight attendant, and a crying baby who required four diaper changes in the last two hours. Im not complaining, Im just really looking forward to getting off this plane. I looked up and saw the flight attendant coming down the aisle, and I knew she would find something to tell me. Youll need to put your tray table in the upright position, Mr. Van Essen. Well be landing soon. See? Even in business class I get picked on. Anyway, I was about to land in Tokyo, which was about the last place I wanted to be aside from this plane. Not that I have anything against a busy city of 40 million, but with the summer Olympics in full swing it was going to be standing room only. The things we do for our kids, right? Before turning off my reader, I glanced through a few photos of my daughter, Chandis, who was the reason why I was taking this trip. Chandis had been a shoe-in for the U.S. Gymnastics Team and had been training hard for this week virtually every day for the past eight years. During tryouts, however, she severely sprained her right ankle and, sadly, did not make the team. Nonetheless, she and her mom, my wife Jessica, have been here since the opening ceremonies to help cheer on her friends. I hoped that this would put some closure on something that I knew must have been devastating for a fifteen year-old girl. After the pilots announcement, I slipped the reader into my small carry-on bag under the seat and checked my seat belt. The flight attendants, I noticed, had taken their seats and buckled in as well. After a minute or so, the bright city lights of Tokyo came into view below us. We continued our descent and I heard the engines slow as the pilot made a few adjustments. I leaned my head back and prepared for the landing.
As the rear wheels touched down, a sudden shockwave exploded through the fuselage. All at once, the sound of twisting metal roared through my head. I looked in time to see the right landing gear assembly as it ripped from the plane. The wing then slammed solidly to the ground, emitting a fireworks display of sparks and flames while swinging us off the runway and across the airfield. I was jolted forward and my head smashed into the seat in front of me. After that, I was tossed sideways against the window. In that instant, I saw the landing gear that had detached was now tumbling through the air. It crashed violently into the tail of the plane with tremendous force. Upon impact, the rear of the plane erupted into flames and exploded away from the main body. The plane was being tossed up and down and I gripped onto my seat with all my strength. Around me, passengers were screaming in terror. I looked and saw the right wing erupt into a huge ball of fire. It then ripped away from the plane as we skipped and bounced across the grassy airfield. Behind me, I felt a rush of air as the skin of the fuselage began to peel back and shred from the plane. Dead ahead, I could see the control tower and could tell we were on a collision course with it. I braced myself as the plane spun across the ground. Seconds later, the front of the plane crashed into the tall tower and exploded into pieces. The seat in front of me broke from its mounts and fell back onto me, crushing my left shoulder. At that moment, the roof over my head tore open. I looked up to see the top of the tower leaning over sharply and could tell it was about to fall my way. In an instant, I unfastened my belt and climbed up on top of my seat. Once there, I reached and pulled myself through the hole in the roof. As I climbed, I felt a sharp piece of metal gouge into my inner thigh. With no time, I let the metal tear through my skin. After that, I slid off the roof of the plane. Once I hit the ground, I rolled, then stood and hobbled away from the wreckage as fast as I could. As I turned around, I saw the huge control room come crashing down onto the aircraft. The front of the plane including the section where I was seated was crushed flat. The ground shook, and I fell forward, landing on my face. As I stood to move further away, I felt the Earth continue to move and fell to the ground again. All around me, I noticed
buildings shaking while fences rattled, vehicles rocked, and light poles swayed about. I realized only then that I was in the midst of an earthquake. I tried to stand again, but soon found myself dizzy. While my vision narrowed, I looked at my pant leg, which I saw was torn. Beneath that, I saw blood squirting out from an artery. I sat and held my hand firmly over the wound while I took deep, steady breaths and tried to remain conscious. Moments later, the ground stopped shaking and I watched while travelers and airport personnel scurried about. One of them, a young Japanese man, ran over to me. Seeing that I was alive and seemingly well, he ran to look for others in more urgent need. I continued watching while fire trucks, ambulances, and emergency vehicles hurried about with their lights flashing and sirens wailing. While I watched this, I thought about my daughter, Chandis, and my wife, Jessica, and I hoped they were safe. Eventually, the young Japanese man I had seen earlier returned. After assessing my wounds, he waved an ambulance over. Before long, a team of medics had my bleeding under control and my thigh and hands bandaged. They also pointed to my left upper arm, which was throbbing, and let me know that I had probably fractured the bone there. They also pointed to other parts of me and explained a few things in Japanese that I did not understand. The medics placed my arm into a sling, then handed me a bottled water and began to leave. When I protested, one of them turned back and managed to convey to me, No hospital! and then left. After letting that roll around in my head for a moment, I realized that the hospital was no more. I felt thirsty and drank the bottle of water in seconds. After a few minutes, I felt well enough to walk, so I climbed to my feet and began heading toward the terminal. When I was about halfway there, I knelt down and vomited some of the water. The pain in my left arm was becoming more intense and it was hard to think of anything else. Nonetheless, I was determined to find where my wife and daughter were, and I was praying they were all right. I took my phone from my pocket and turned it on. Once the phone powered up, I saw what Id expected: no cell service.
I was shocked to see how much of the main terminal had collapsed. I managed to enter through an access door on the ground level, then climbed up a flight of stairs taking one step at a time. After reaching the top, I limped to the other side of the terminal and then out onto the roadway. From there, I could see that the entire center section of the huge building had collapsed, crushing dozens, perhaps hundreds of people under it. I staggered over to where emergency workers and volunteers were working to sift people out from under the wreckage. I noticed there were a dozen or so bodies lined up along the curb, each covered with a sheet. I watched for a few minutes as the rescuers pulled another victim from under the rubble. After they had determined the person was dead, they wrapped the body in a sheet and laid it in the row beside the others. As they did that, I heard a phone ring, and saw one of the rescuers pull a cell from his pocket and begin speaking. I checked my phone, and saw there was cell service in this spot. Quickly, I pressed Chandiss number, hoping she was somewhere where a call would go through. As I held the phone to my ear, I heard another phone ring somewhere behind me. I turned and looked along the roadway, but saw no one. As the ringing continued, I stepped closer to the curb where the bodies were laid out. There, the sound seemed to grow louder. As Chandiss phone went to voicemail, I ended the call and quickly redialed. Again, a phone began chiming right behind me. I soon realized, to my horror, that the sound of the ringtone was coming from under one of the sheets. Oh God, I thought to myself, please not her. Frantically, I listened over the row of bodies until I found the source of the ringing. I pulled my injured arm from the sling. A deep feeling of dread came over me and I held my breath as my trembling hand pulled the sheet from the victims face. Before my eyes lay my young daughter, Chandis, bloodied, but nonetheless beautiful. No! I cried aloud. Oh Godplease no! I swept my child into my arms and wept like I had never wept before. Through my tears, I looked into her eyes and saw that the life was gone from them. I looked up and called to God again as I held her tight. A few of the rescuers gathered around, but no one spoke a word.
Then, suddenly, I thought of my wife, Jessica. Gently, I lay Chandiss head onto the pavement and wiped some of the blood- soaked strands of hair from her pretty face. Tears fell from my eyes onto her forehead, and I wiped those away, too. I then pulled the sheet from the person beside her, and saw that it was not Jessica. I placed the sheet back over the persons face. I stood and moved to the next body and looked under that sheet, but that was not her either. If Chandis was here, I thought, her mother would have been with her. Desperately, I began moving from one body to the next, pulling the sheets back to see if one of them was my wife. Some of the faces were unrecognizable, so I pulled those sheets completely back to be certain. The rescuers were obviously disturbed by this, but no one dared stop me. After I had checked all of the bodies, I walked back to where Chandis lay and sat beside her, holding her small hand in mine. As I looked up, I saw a team of rescuers carrying yet another body, the body of a woman. I jumped up and ran over to where they were laying the victim onto the ground, and I could tell even from a distance that it was Jessica. As I arrived at her side I fell to my knees and held her. For a moment, she gasped, and then coughed weakly. While I held her bloodied head in my hand she opened her eyes and looked up into mine. She struggled to speak and coughed again. I turned her head gently to the side and allowed blood to run from her mouth. She then looked back at me with desperate eyes. Whereswheres our baby? Wheres Chandis? Shes okay, I told her, which of course was a lie. She studied me for a moment. Though I tried, I couldnt hide the truth from my face and she knew me well enough to see it. At that, she sobbed for a moment, then began gasping for air. I shook her in my arms and begged her, Jessicahang in there! Stay with me! I felt her body becoming limp in my hands. Chandis is fine, I cried. She made it! But she knew that wasnt true. I watched as her eyes slowly rolled back. Moments later, I sensed that her spirit had left her body and I knew she was gone. I knelt
beside her for a long while, weeping and calling out to God, but again to no avail. Just like that, she and Chandis were gone forever and nothing on Earth would bring them back. After some time, one of the rescuers came and spoke to me. She was a young girl and had a pad of paper and a pen with her. She crouched beside me and softly said, Im sorry, sir, for your loss. I looked at her and nodded. She waited for a long moment before she inquired, What was her name, if I may ask? Jessica, I replied. Jessica Van Essen. She was my wife. She wrote that down. The young woman seemed very patient and understanding, which I appreciated. After another long moment she asked, She was an American? I nodded once again and then pointed over to where Chandiss body lay. And so was my daughter, Chandis Van Essen. She glanced over to where I pointed, and then at me again before adding the name to her list. After that she asked, May I have your name, sir, if you dont mind? I turned my eyes from my wife and looked around at the wreckage and chaos surrounding us. There were flashing lights, smoke, and the sounds of sirens and panic everywhere. People in despair were holding each other and weeping, and there was a feeling of death and utter sadness hanging in the air. I looked over at a group of rescuers who were carrying yet another victim out from under the rubble. I also looked at the row of bodies and saw that it was becoming longer. Finally, I looked at the woman. My name is Craig Van Essen. I thought for a moment and added, But dont write that down.
-PART II- Five months later. Friday, January 1, 2021 Washington, D.C.
You want a friend in Washington? Get a dog. ~Harry S. Truman
Chapter 2
From the North Portico, I stepped into the State Floor Entrance Hall where I was soon greeted, surprisingly, by the First Lady. She was wearing an elegant evening gown and welcomed me graciously. I introduced myself, of course, and was shown to a table of hors d'oeuvres and refreshments. Help yourself to anything you like, Mr. Van Essen, she said, smiling politely, and Happy New Year. Before she left, she turned to me and mentioned, Well gather in the State Dining Room for dinner at six. In the meantime, Ill let Mark know youre here. I smiled back at her and nodded, though I had no idea who Mark was. Actually, I had no idea why I had been invited to the White House at all. In fact, my fellow agents thought I had concocted the whole thing. Until I showed them my invitation, that is. A group of musicians were seated to one side and playing classical music while a few couples mingled and worked the crowd. I walked over to the south end of the room where I stepped through the door and looked up and down the long, bright red-carpeted Cross Hall. On the opposite side of the hall was the unique and elliptically shaped Blue Room, which was decorated at this time with a large ornate Christmas tree. I walked across the wide hall and entered the room. As I began to look around, I saw three young ladies standing near the tree. They were dressed in formal gowns and each was holding a fluted champagne glass while giggling and whispering back and forth to each other. As I walked close, one of them turned to me and asked, So, are you a senator or a Secret Service guy or what? She was a tall, attractive girl, though I could tell she was young, only about twenty or so. I could also tell shed had more than one glass of champagne already. Neither, I replied. Im with the Department of the Interior. She looked around the room and told me, Well, you did a good job with the place.
I laughed at her joke, then stepped over and introduced myself, Im Craig Van Essen. Happy New Year. She raised her glass and gazed at me with wanting eyes. Happy New Year, Craig. Im Meagan. I smiled and asked them, What brings the three of you to the White House? A second one spoke up. We were recipients of the Presidents Scholarship. The President always invites the new graduates to the White House on New Years to celebrate. Congratulations on your graduation. She smiled at that and introduced herself. Im Patty. Patty Deangelo. Patty, Meagan, and I chatted for a minute or so. After that, I turned and looked at the third girl, who I could see was very petite but by far the prettiest of the three. She was dressed in an elegant red gown and had on a pearl necklace, which looked lovely against her light brown skin. She saw that I had noticed her and extended her tiny hand. Happy New Year, Mr. Van Essen, she said. Im Raquel Richards. Just then, I heard footsteps coming from behind me and I turned to see a man whom I thought I recognized from the TV news. Craig Van Essen? he asked. I nodded. Im glad you could make it. He held out his hand. Im Mark Westfall, the White House Chief of Staff. We shook hands. Its a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Westfall Please, call me Mark. Okay, Mark. I took a moment to introduce him to Meagan, Patty, and Raquel, and then asked him, Was it you that invited me here tonight? I glanced around and admitted, Im not exactly sure why Im here.
Officially, it was the President that invited you, he explained, though I may have had something to do with it. He turned and waved at an older couple as they passed by, then told me, You and I have some important business to discuss, Craig. Can we go to my office? Of course. He and I once again wished the young ladies a Happy New Year before we excused ourselves. I followed Mark back to the Entrance Hall. There, we headed down a flight of stairs, then out through the Palm Room to the West Wing. From the West Colonnade, we passed security guards and entered a corridor. I followed Mark through the maze of halls until we had reached his large office on the far southwest corner of the wing. He motioned to a cushioned chair near the fireplace. Have a seat, Craig, and make yourself comfortable. Mark sat on a chair opposite me and mentioned, You must be wondering why on earth youve been asked to be here tonight. Right? I nodded. That may have crossed my mind. He sat forward and began to explain, We have a special situation thats come up, and we think youll be able to help us. By we you mean? The President, the Vice-President, and myself, of course. Whats it about? I asked. How can I help? His tone became more serious. First of all, let me explain that weve read the reports of what happened to youto your family, that isin Tokyo. The President and the Vice-President asked me to again convey their deepest sympathy concerning your loss. He added, I offer mine as well. I nodded. Thank you. I remember seeing a bouquet from the President at Jessica and Chandices funerals five months ago, and I knew that was probably arranged by Mark Westfall.
Mark continued, As you know, Craig, the Tokyo earthquake was a world tragedy. In fact, the timing of it has a lot of people wondering. He looked at me, waiting for me to comment. It did seem like quite a coincidence, I told him, especially since the Olympic games had just started. Some people, I suppose, might wonder if the earthquake may have somehow beenmanufactured. He nodded. Correct. In fact, the President is one of those people. I pointed out, To my knowledge, the CIA already has a team investigating that. I happen to know that an extremist group based in Sweden They call themselves Skilja or The Skild, he said, which Im told is Swedish for Distinct or The Separate. Ive read the report on themand so has the President. Do you think theyve invented some way of manufacturing an earthquake? He shook his head. As far as I know, theyre just a paper tiger. I dont think theyd have the money or resources to develop something that Deadly? He nodded. Lets hope not anyway. He informed me, Last week, several members of the Skilja were captured while trying to break into the EU Parliament building in Belgium. I didnt know that. Few people do. He continued, The Skilja are political radicals focused on trying to keep the world from globalizing and uniting. I guess they see the European Union as a problem. What does that have to do with me? He leaned back on the couch and appeared to be in deep thought for a moment. Finally, he asked, What would you think if we sent you, by yourself, on a mission to try to determine if the earthquake was man-made or not? Would you be open to that? Certainly, I replied. But wouldnt you just arrange this through my boss at Langleyor the director?
They cant know about it, Craig. This is too secreteven for them. I looked at him curiously. He explained, You wouldnt be working for the CIA any more, Craig. Youd be working directly for the President himself. That caught me by surprise. You want me to quit the CIA? He nodded. How would that work? Mark leaned forward and asked, Have you ever heard of a position known as The Presidents Agent? I chuckled. Yeah, I guess Ive heard of it, but its justits not real He looked at me with a solemn expression. I cleared my throat. Its real? Again, he nodded. Like I said, youd be working directly for the President. Only he along with the Vice-President and I would be aware of your employment. Interested? I thought for a moment and asked, Why me? Besides your obvious personal stake in this, there are a few other things that make us feel youd be the right person for the position. To be perfectly frank, you come with no strings attached Which is a polite way of saying I have no family, right? I hope that doesnt seem too Its fine. Dont worry about it. Also, youve been described as a man of good judgment. The CIA says that about all of its agents. I smiled and added, Whatever good judgment I may possess comes mostly from the experience gained by having first demonstrated poor judgment. He grinned. And Id be assigned to find out what actually happened in Tokyo? That would be your first mission.
All this had caught me quite by surprise. How long would the President need me? That depends on the voters. Youd be his agent until either his one or two terms are over. He lowered his glasses down onto the end of his nose and continued, After that, Craig, as a reward for a job well done, youd be placed into a high position in industry, finance, or maybe politics No politics for me, thanks. He chuckled at that and had to agree. I told him, If you could promise to get me back into the aerospace industry when Im finished, then Im definitely interested. Consider it done. As he stood and shook my hand, he told me, Im glad to have you on board, Craig, and Im sure the President and Vice-President will feel the same. He stepped over to his desk and used a digital key from his pocket to open a cabinet. From the cabinet he removed a black aluminum attach case. This will be for you, he said. The agents upstairs can hold onto it while were dining. Whatever happens, dont lose it, okay? Okay. What is it? This contains secret codes for your new foreign accounts, plus passports, IDs, website and server passcodesall the usual spy stuff, or so Im told. He added, Youll also be receiving what we call an ICD, which is an Implanted Communication Device. Its a tiny thing that goes under the skin of your auditory canalin your ear, that is. That sounded painful. Whats that used for? Its like a built-in telephone, sort of, and you can record sounds on it, too. He let me know, Its how the President will communicate to you your missions. I nodded. Is that how Ill contact him, too? Actually, no, he replied. For deniability purposes, you can never contact any of us in any way. You can never mention to anyone that you work for the President, either. In fact, after tonight, well probably never see you again. Your intelligence reports will go directly to the
secured web server weve set up for you. He added, The passwords and the information about that are in the attach case. I let all that roll around in my head for a moment, then asked, What about money? Is that? The codes and passwords for that are in the attach case, too. Like I said, Dont lose it. If its money, Ill guard it with my life. He chuckled at that, then told me, A man will be visiting you in your hotel room tomorrow morning to insert the ICD and then test it. Sometime after that, youll hear from the President concerning the details of your first mission. I nodded in agreement. He paused for a moment, then asked, Can I ask you a personal question, Craig, if you dont mind? Ask away. According to your file, you were once part of NASAs astronaut corps. Right? Here we go. Thats correct, Mark. He cleared his throat. Why exactly did you leave? I mean, you spent all that time in training, then As I remembered back, a grin came to my face. Its a long story, I replied, but, basically, an Astronaut named Tom Bennett and I thought wed pull a prank on the Corps Commander, who was, for lack of a better description, an asshole extraordinaire. Apparently, he didnt share the same sense of humor as Tom and I, so you could say it kind of backfired on us. I added, You had to be there. He looked at me in an odd way, then glanced at his watch. Hey, its almost dinner time. Wed better get going or the First Lady will kill us. As I stood to leave, I asked, The people they arrested from Skild; why are they being held? He stopped and turned to me. Have you ever heard of Oberwald?
In fact, I had. I knew that Oberwald was a prison set up primarily for Europes terrorists, and was located in a remote area of southern Switzerland. Ive heard of it. Is that where they are? Yep. Nine of them, anyway. Again, I went to thinking. I knew the authorities in Europe could not interrogate the prisoners without their legal representatives present. After a moment I asked, What if I wanted to be temporarily placed as a prisoner at Oberwald? Could you arrange for that? He shook his head and chuckled. No, I cant do that, Craig. He then looked at me and grinned wryly. But Ill bet our boss can. Lets go meet him. Mark gave me a pat on the back and we headed to the State Dining Room. The New Year, I thought, was starting off with a bang. Little did I know what an understatement that would turn out to be.
-PART III- One week later. Monday, January 25, 2021 Oberwald, Switzerland
Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds. ~Franklin D. Roosevelt
Chapter 3
Well, Oberwald wasnt so bad. It appeared to be a new facility and remarkably clean, though a lot smaller than I had anticipated. My first week as a jailbird went fairly well, though I still hadnt learned as much as Id hoped about the mysterious group, the Skilja. I was placed in a cell with a big Swede named Bjorn Gundersen, one of the groups members. Bjorn looked to be in his early fifties. He was broad shouldered and strong-looking with spikey blondish hair and a long beard. He told me hed spent most of his life in the shipping industry, working on cargo ships. Other than that, he never mentioned anything about his family, his background, or his education, though he seemed to be one of the smarter ones Id met. Maybe the only smart one. Lucky for me, he spoke English, although with a funny accent. When I first arrived, Bjorn warned me that the meals were laced with something. At first, it sounded like he had said laxatives, but then I realized he was saying sedatives, which made more senseexcept for the night they served borscht. I noticed that the prisoners did seem slightly sedated and sleepy most of the time, the only exceptions being our two annoying neighbors in the next cell, Carl and Werner. Id been in two fights so far, both of them with those idiots. In the last fight, I received a black eye and a broken lip from Werner, and from me he received a very sore fist. Hopefully, he learned his lesson. Anyway, I soon discovered that the Skiljas leader had not been captured and was in hiding and still running the groups business. My cellmate, Bjorn, claimed he was not an actual member of the group, which is probably the story Id go with, though he did admit he could relate to the groups core beliefs. According to Bjorn, the Skilja believe that the worlds nations and people groups were separated long ago by the man upstairs, and they were meant to stay separated. Bjorn explained, The Skilja members maintain that all attempts to unite the world in currency, language, and other ways are all acts of defiance in the eyes of God. They also see those attempts as a means of ushering in the reign of antichrist, thus bringing about the end of the world.
I was going to ask how they felt about the Olympics, but I decided to hold off on that. Bjorn continued, Their goal is to put an end to the European Union as well as the United Nations and all entities that promote globalization. For a small group that probably had zero funding and no political friends, I felt they really had their work cut out for themselves, though I kept that to myself, too. As usual, our cell door opened at 7 a.m., and Bjorn and I headed to the mess hall for breakfast along with the other men. Altogether, I counted thirty prisoners, all of whom were in here for committing at least one act of terrorism. Except me, of course. All the violent acts Ive perpetrated were totally legal. While Bjorn and I stood in line for our breakfast, I saw that two of the prisoners were stationed behind the counter and helping to serve meals. One of them, I noticed, looked around and gave Bjorn a subtle thumbs-up signal, to which Bjorn nodded in return. I wasnt sure what that was about, but we were given a bowl of Bircher muesli and a carton of milk. We sat at a table next to Nigel Adams who also spoke English, though with a Brit accent. Over our cereal, Nigel, who was either full of shit or simply pompous, commented that he, Bjorn, and I seemed to be the only educated ones in the facility. In conversation, he asked me, Whats your background, Craig? Youre an educated man, I can tell. Well, I didnt know why he was asking, but I wasnt going to let him or anyone else here know too much about me. I told Nigel, I did a little of this and that. I went to collegebut it was a miracle that I graduated. He smiled politely. Im sure youre being modest. What school did you attend? Oh, just some local colleges. No place youve ever heard of, Im sure. Well, Nigel must have figured he wasnt going to squeeze me for more than that, so he turned to Gundersen and gave it a shot. How about you, Bjorn?
Same as Mr. Van Essen, Bjorn answered. No place youve ever heard of. Why do you ask? Nigel shook his head. Just trying to have a conversation, really. I dont mean to pry, but we chaps are stuck here together, arent we? After I had finished my meal, I stared out through the drab, barred windows on the other side of the mess hall. It was freezing outside and I could see that a light snow was now beginning to fall. I looked over at Bjorn whod just pulled out a deck of cards. I was hoping that Nigel, who Id been told was not a member of the Skilja, would move to another table so I could be free to find out more about Bjorn. The three of us played a few hands of Swedish Rummy, which I soon learned is the same thing as Crazy Eights. Bjorn was lucky and won the first three games. Finally, Nigel excused himself and went to use the toilet. After Nigel left, Bjorn and I decided to play one last hand. While looking down at his cards, he mentioned, I studied Geochemistry at Stockholm University. He then looked up at me and added, After that, I sailed to your side of the sea where I attended Columbia. Really? What did you take while you were at Columbia? He thought about that and laughed to himself. I was young, so I think I spent most of my time taking American girls to bed. We both chuckled at that. He then looked around and whispered, Condensed Matter Physics. Well, that struck me as interesting. Bjorn then looked at me and said nothing, which was my cue to tell him about myself. I leaned forward and said in a low voice, I didnt want Nigel to know this, but I have a degree in Engineering from Texas A&M, and a Masters from the Air Force Institute of Technology. I glanced around and added, I also completed Astronaut Candidate Training at NASA. Bjorn nodded. Very impressive, Mr. Van Essen. I took a few American girls to bed, too.
We both chuckled again. He then told me, I know my reasons for keeping things from our friend Nigel. What are yours? I exhaled deeply and shook my head. Just a feeling really. I guess I dont trust him. He nodded. You and I share the same feeling. He set his last card down and grinned. But not the same luck. I looked at his hand, which was another winner. I guess its not my lucky day. I folded my remaining cards which he shuffled together and then slid back into his pocket. Just then, Nigel came to the table and asked Bjorn, May I borrow your deck of cards, mate? The blokes at the table over there look a bit bored. He pointed his attention to where a few members of the Skilja group looked like they were ready for a nap. Bjorn looked where Nigel was pointing, then turned to me and whispered, See what I mean about the sedatives? He pulled his playing cards from his pocket and began to hand then to Nigel. As Nigel reached to take them, Bjorn pulled back and warned him, If you dont bring these cards back within an hour, Ill have your little nuts cut off. Understandmate? Nigel cleared his throat. Easy, Bjorn. Ill have them right back to you. Dont worry. After Nigel walked away with the deck, Bjorn and I laughed under our breath. After a while, Bjorn lowered his voice and asked me, When you arrived at Oberwald, did the administrator speak with you? I nodded. He told me to behave myself and avoid relationships that involve sex. Bjorn grinned at that, then asked, Did he say anything to you about the Skilja? The correct answer to that was no, but I told Bjorn, He did, but only in conversation. From what I could tell he didnt seem too concerned with the group. I then remembered what Mark Westfall
had said and added, He told me the Skilja were more of a paper tiger than anything, and nothing to be feared. Bjorn chuckled at that and shook his head. He then looked at me with a more serious expression and asked, Tell me, Craig; what do you think about what I told you about their cause? Does it seem silly to you, or? Actually, it did, but I wanted to squeeze him for more information. At the same time I didnt want to appear too eager, so I told him, I understand about the power of God, Bjorn, and I understand what you said about the problems with globalization. I just think its too late to reverse the direction the world has already taken. I tend to agree with that, he said, though if the group had a way of gaining the attention of the world, and in turn the ear of the decision makers, then perhaps mankind would have a chance. The Skilja would only need the correct assets and motivation to accomplish this. Apparently, I had the right cellmate. In fact, I felt my first mission as the Presidents Agent had taken a turn for the better. Now I just needed to find out more about the assets. In a low voice I asked, But youre not actually one of them, right? No, he whispered in reply, but I do sympathize with their cause. I try to offer them advice at times. He leaned forward and added, If there was a non-violent way of achieving their goalswith no bloodshed or destructionI would join them. I dont think it can be done, I said. The world has gone too far. He leaned back and seemed to think about that. After a moment, he told me, Perhaps there is a way, my friend. If you and I were to put our heads together, surely we could come up with a solution. He offered, You should consider working with me on this. I motioned to the prison walls around us. I would, Bjorn, but you have to realize that Oberwald is now our world. He smiled at that, then leaned forward again and whispered, After tonight, the world out there is ours. At that, he motioned to the windows where I turned to see snow gently falling. Join me, he said. There is room for another. I thought about what he was saying. Tonight?
He nodded. It is now or never, my friend. He and I looked each other for a long moment. I wasnt sure what he had planned, but I had a feeling it wasnt going to be anything terribly stupid or desperate. Finally, I told him, Count me in. * * * In the mess hall that night, Bjorn instructed me not to eat or drink anything. Before our mealtime was over, he and I offered our food to the guys seated next to us who gladly traded us for their empty plates. About an hour later, everyone but us began complaining of stomach discomfort and nausea. Soon after that, people were lined up at the toilets to vomit. The guards became increasingly worried about the situation and decided to send all the prisoners back up to their cells. When we got to our jail cell, the two guys next door, Carl and Werner, were both complaining of illness. In a hushed voice Bjorn told them, Weve been poisoned, all of us! While we watched, Bjorn produced a small plastic catsup packet and carefully opened the end of it. Instead of catsup, however, the packet was filled with eight small oval-shaped pills. He held them out and told me, This is the antidote. Take four of them, quickly. Put them under your tongue and let them dissolve. I grabbed the pills and did as he said. Bjorn then took the remaining four pills himself. After that, he opened a second packet of pills and reached over to the next cell. Take four of these, each of you. No more, no lessand be quick about it. Werner, the one that gave me the black eye, looked at Bjorn suspiciously. How do I know this is not the poison? Look at everyone, Bjorn replied, pointing his attention toward the other prisoners moaning in their cells. Weve all been poisoned, you fool! Take those now. Put them under your tongue or you will die! He and Carl looked at each other for a moment, then put the pills in their mouths.
Where did you get those? I asked. And what are they? Bjorn laid down on his bed. Though we are in a prison we still have friends. Now lie down quickly, Van Essen, before you fall and hurt yourself. I looked at my small bed and took his advice. As I felt the last of the medication dissolve, I turned to him and asked, What were those things, anyway? He turned to me and whispered, They are a medicine called Abstryl, a powerful narcotic. In the dose we just took, the medicine should knock us out for a good while. When we wake up, my friend, well either be dead or will have escaped. He smiled and added, Either way, well be free from this place. I thought about that and hoped Id wake up and find myself back home and realize that all this was just a bad dream. But today, I remembered, was not my lucky day.
Chapter 4
All at once, I woke up and began coughing violently while at the same time gasping for air. During this, my eyes had watered and everything was blurred, but I could see enough to tell that I was in the back of a moving vehicle, a van, and that it was still dark outside. I turned onto my side and coughed harder, trying to clear my lungs. A feeling of nausea came over me and, seconds later, I vomited onto the floor. After that, I felt someone patting me on the back. I wiped my eyes and turned to see Bjorn Gundersen looking at me. I caught my breath, then cleared my throat and asked him, Are we dead? He managed a smile. Im afraid, my friend, that that great adventure has eluded usat least for the moment. He asked, How do you feel? I had to think about it. I looked at Bjorn again and realized he was sitting atop an ambulance gurney. From the waist down, I could see he was inside what appeared to be a body bag. I then looked down and was shocked to see that I was lying in one as well. Bjorn saw the look of astonishment on my face and began to laugh. He explained, Our good friend, Axel Thorsenhe pointed to the driver of the vancame up with this idea. Body bags? Bjorn explained, It was clever, really. Posing as a medical examiner, Axel arrived at the prison during all the excitement and found you and I unconscious in our beds. After a careful assessment, he declared us dead. I felt a bump as the van passed over a set of railroad tracks. We then held on to our gurneys as Axel slowed down and navigated a turn. After that, Bjorn continued, Once we were bagged and loaded into the Coroners van, our friend Axel gave each of us a shot to wake us up again. He took a long sip from a thermos and handed it over to me.
I reached with my right arm and took the thermos. As I did, I noticed that the muscle at my shoulder was sore and I figured that was the injection site. A shot of what? I asked. Bjorn reached beside his body bag and grabbed a small empty vial and replied, This is called Noloxone, and I think we each got about 10 mg. He looked at me. We now have nothing to fear, Mr. Van Essen. We have risen from the dead. I asked Bjorn, What about the guys in the next cell, Carl and Werner? Unfortunately for them, they took a different kind of sedative than we didthe kind that you dont wake up from. He grinned wryly and explained, Their deaths made it easier to pass us off as being deceased as well. I nodded at that while trying to suppress my shock. After taking a sip from the thermos, which I discovered was coffee, I turned to the driver and mentioned, Thanks for bringing us back from hell, Axel. We owe you one. He glanced up at the center mirror and nodded his head, so I guessed he understood English. I also guessed that Axel was about thirty or so. He looked lean with brown hair, warm eyes, and a round bearded face. To me, he didnt fit the role of an accomplice in a prison break. He could easily pass as a medical examiner though. Just then, I heard the sound of a European-style police siren and I could tell it was coming from the road ahead. As the car sped by our van, I saw Axel lean forward to watch it in his side mirror. Once he was satisfied that it was not turning around to come after us, he focused his attention back on the road. As he did, he realized too late we were headed into a curve. He hit the brakes hard and turned the wheel sharply, sending the clumsy vehicle into a spin on the icy road. In the back, Bjorn and I were being tossed around. Suddenly, the van slammed violently into a guardrail, sending both Bjorn and myself flying out of our gurneys and body bags and sprawling onto the floor. Finally, the van came to a stop. Bjorn yelled out something in Swedish while we wiggled ourselves out of our warm body bags. The
three of us then went outside to assess the damages. It was still snowing and I noticed that an inch or two had accumulated on the sides of the highway. The road itself looked icy. As I checked the van, I saw that the right rear fender was crushed in and pressing against the tire. Just as Axel arrived to examine the damage, I turned and saw headlights coming our way. I pointed to the fender and told Bjorn, Have Axel pull this out so it doesnt rub on the tire. In the meantime, you and I need to get back in the van. I gestured to our orange prison overalls which made us stand out likewell, like escaped prisoners. He understood that and barked the message to Axel in Swedish. After that, he and I climbed back into the van. From inside, we could feel the vehicle jerking from side to side as Axel pulled at the fender. That stopped as we heard a car pull up next to us. Carefully, Bjorn moved to the console between the two front seats and flipped it open. From inside, he removed two handguns complete with shoulder holsters and spare clips, and handed one to me. I removed the gun and looked it over while listening to Axel and the person in the car sharing a conversation. The handgun was a good old Glock 9 mm, one of my all-time favorites. Behind the drivers seat, Bjorn found two coats and a bag of clothes reserved for us, and we began quietly changing. After a minute or so, I heard the other car drive away and the van began swaying from side to side once again. After we had finished dressing, Bjorn pounded on the side of the van, signaling Axel to give it up. Axel ran to the front of the van and jumped in, then glanced back at Bjorn and me and let us know, Were not too far. At that, he threw the shifter into gear and hit the gas. We could hear the tire rubbing against the fender, and it sounded awful, but at least we didnt have far to go. Smoke was soon rolling out from the wheel well along with the pungent smell of burning rubber. About one minute later, just as we slowed to make a left turn, the tire finally blew. Axel turned and
glanced back at us nervously, then pulled well over to the side of the road. We all climbed out again. I looked around and saw we were close to another railroad track, and there seemed to be a narrow riverbed paralleling it on the far side. Bjorn and Axel discussed things for a moment before Bjorn turned to me. Axel says that our other vehicle is only half a kilometer this way. He pointed down the road. I thought for a moment and suggested, Before we leave, we should move the van so its out of sight. Bjorn agreed. He climbed in and drove the van slowly forward, with the blown rear tire clunking along. He then took a right turn onto a side road where the railroad tracks crossed the highway. There, he parked the vehicle against a high concrete wall where it would be difficult to see. From there, the three of us began trotting down the road while watching both ways for more cars. Soon, we arrived at an area where I saw a large two-story building on the left. A well-lit sign read Hotel Walser and Axel stopped there. After catching our breath for a minute, we followed Axel through the long parking lot to where he stopped at a vehicle, a Volvo XC60. This is the one, Axel told us. He pressed the key to unlock the doors and we piled inthem in the front, me in the back. Wasting no time, Axel backed out of the spot and we headed out. Instead of turning back where we came from, we turned left and continued on the road, which was named Nufenenstrasseor something equally ridiculous. Anyway, the road took us through a narrow valley before climbing steeply up the ridge of a mountain. My ears popped as we drove higher. We then began winding back and forth through sharp, hairpin turns. After about five miles of that, Bjorn turned around and let me know, Were almost there, Craig. Almost where? I asked. Were not staying anywhere near here are we?
Bjorn grinned. Just as he was about to answer that, a vehicle appeared from behind a curve ahead and sped past us. Bjorn and I both turned quickly to see if it was a police car. Just as it was about to disappear behind another curve, I saw its brake lights come on and the vehicle came to an abrupt stop. Bjorn saw that too and said something to Axel. As we rounded the next sharp turn, Axel flipped our lights off and slowed down. After his eyes had adjusted, he sped up for a moment, then took an abrupt right turn. I looked and saw that we were now heading down a steep, narrow service road, which descended into a vast, treeless valley below. Behind us, I watched as the other cars headlights drove past the service road entrance and continued along Nufenenstrasse. Or was it Nufenstrasse? Anyway, my ears popped again as we descended further. After another mile or two, we arrived at a small deserted parking area and stopped there. The snow had stopped falling and the sky was beginning to clear. Low in the west, the moons white light illuminated everything around us. As we climbed out of the car and headed out of the parking area, I saw a large frozen lake at the bottom of the valley below. Axel gestured to the lake and let me know, This is Griessee. Well, that didnt sound too good. Bjorn turned to me and explained, That, I guess, is the name of the lake. Lake Griessee. That did not help much, but I followed them down to the lake anyway. As we walked closer, I saw that a high concrete dam, about a thousand feet wide, had been built along the north side of the lake with a walkway spanning the length of it. The frozen lake was about a half- mile long and perhaps half as wide. The moonlight glistened across its slate-colored surface while a light wind blew silvery snow about like dust. As we proceeded across the walkway, I let Bjorn and Axel know, This is really fascinating, guys. Im so glad we picked this spot for our escape. Bjorn seemed to enjoy keeping me in the dark. After a moment, he stopped and pointed to a steep-sided Alpine mountain on the opposite
side of the lake. Do you see the base of that mountain, Mr. Van Essen? Do you know what that is? I looked and shook my head. The Matterhorn? He laughed out loud and told me, That, my friend, is Italy. I looked at the mountain for a moment. I always thought it was shaped more like a boot. He laughed at that one too, then gave me a firm pat on the back and continued walking. As we drew closer to the end of the walkway I asked, Is this the plan, Bjorn? Were going to walk to Italy? As he stepped from the walkway onto the frozen lake he turned to me. No, Mr. Van Essen. That would be almost impossible from here. Axel nodded in agreement. Bjorn added, Besides, I think wed freeze our dicks off if we tried. At that, I nodded in agreement. He and Axel then walked around a corner and gestured me to follow them. As I rounded the corner I drew a startled breath. Before me was an airplane. Bjorn grinned widely. I think it would be much better to fly, dont you? I began to laugh as I studied the plane. This is an old Republic Seabee, isnt it? Axel was impressed by that. You know your planes. I looked at the small aircraft and informed him, I was once a pilot. I walked around the odd-looking craft while Bjorn and Axel went about removing the tie-downs and window covers. The retractable gears, I saw, had been fitted with skis, which was something I had never seen on one of these before. The Seabee was an amphibious plane, so the bottom of the fuselage was designed with a hull like a boat complete with a small rudder in the rear. This would
allow the plane to land on water. With the gear lowered, it could land on a standard runwayor, as in this case, on ice. Who landed this here? I asked. Axel turned to me and raised his hand proudly. Bjorn let me know, Axel is not an experienced pilot. He thought for a moment and asked, Would you be able to fly a plane like this? I looked at him and saw he was serious. Before answering, I walked around the plane again while looking over the broad wings, the rear prop, and the ailerons. I opened the left-side door and climbed in. Theres only one way to find out, I answered. Hop in. After we were all seated, I took a few minutes to orient myself. I fastened my seat belt and turned to Axel. I always wanted to fly a plane. He smiled nervously, no doubt wondering if I was joking or not. I made a few adjustments, then turned the key, flipped on the ignition, and pressed the starter switch. Slowly, the propeller began spinning and the engine sputtered for a moment, then died. The temperature was probably only around twenty degrees, so I knew this was going to take a minute. I made a few more adjustments and tried a second time. Again, the engine sputtered for a moment before it died. Bjorn leaned forward from the back seat and informed me, There is no contingency plan, Craig. If this thing doesnt start, we may well end up walking to Italy. But you said wed freeze our dicks off. Just get this thing running. I explained, So you know, Bjorn, this thing is about 75 years old. It takes a lot of foreplay to get her juices going. I wasnt sure that he understood that, but the plane seemed to. As I hit the starter switch again, the engine popped, backfired, and missed a few cylinders for a few seconds, then suddenly roared to life as a thick cloud of dark smoke rolled out from her exhaust pipes. I let the engine warm for a few minutes while I familiarized myself with the controls and watched the exhaust gas temperature gauges. The
fuel tanks were three-quarters full, so I assumed that Axel had filled up nearby before landing here. I turned and looked back at Bjorn, who was tightening his seat belt. I spoke loudly over the sound of the motor. I think shes ready now. Whats our destination, Mr. Gundersen? South, he replied. Stay as low as you canand no lights! Axel pointed to the ADF box and gave me a thumbs-up, letting me know that our destination coordinates were already set. After another minute, I brought the rpms up and we began sliding across the ice. Once I had the plane positioned into the wind, I pushed the throttle lever all the way forward and we started gaining speed. At once, the plane began rumbling and vibrating as we moved along and the wings began shaking wildly. The noise level inside soon became almost deafening. I looked ahead, but with all the vibration and no lights to guide me, I knew it would be difficult to gauge exactly where the ice ended and where the rocky shoreline began. After what seemed like a long time, we finally approached the speed where I could pull up. I glanced over at Axel for a moment. By the look on his face it seemed he was either terrified or was having a seizure. At this point, the entire plane was juddering and pounding over the ice like crazy. I gave it another few seconds for more speed, then another few seconds just to mess with Axel. I then pulled back gently on the control. The vibration stopped at once, my cue that we were airborne. None of this was particularly scary for me, but if it had been, this is the part where Id relax my sphincters. I exhaled deeply and glanced over at Axel again. He turned and gave me a nod of approval, though he looked flushed. His expression told me he was still clinching his butt cheeks. I was sure that flying here and landing on that frozen lake must have been a harrowing experience for him. I slapped Axels arm and let him know, So far, this is the best prison escape Ive ever been on. I gave him a big grin. While he processed that, I continued climbing to a comfortably low altitude of about two-thousand feet, then swung south after clearing the mountain. After that, I leveled off and turned again to Bjorn. Welcome to Italy, Mr. Gundersen. How far south are we heading?
Our destination, he replied, is just beyond Lake Como. Its a small lake, about the size of the one we just leftthough not frozen. Its called Lago di Annone. At that, Axel passed me a map which had the flight route highlighted. I flipped on a small light and looked over the map for a minute, then told them, From what I can gauge, we should reach our destination in about forty-five minutes or so. If we dont slam into a mountain, I thought. Hey, its the Alps, right? Bjorn leaned forward again and asked me, Do you think youll be okay landing this thing? I smiled. Its a little late to ask, but Im sure well be all right. He nodded. To further comfort him I turned and added, I think weve been zipped into enough body bags for one day.
-PART IV- Tuesday, January 26, 2021 Rome, Italy
Wisdom oft times consists of knowing what to do next. ~Herbert Hoover
Chapter 5
With the help of the remaining moonlight as well as a light wind and clear skies, our landing on the small lake in northern Italy went fairly wellother than the fact that I had made a slight miscalculation on our approach altitude. We had spotted Lake Como from the air, which honestly would have been hard to miss. We followed it straight to little Lago di Annone. As I made my approach and eased off the throttle to touch down, the plane slowed faster than I had predicted and we dropped about ten feet onto the frigid water. Unfortunately, that was about nine feet more than I was expecting. Besides jarring our spinal columns, the left pontoon tore off along with part of the wing itself, which almost caused us to capsize. As soon as it happened, Bjorn and Axel jumped up and hung themselves out of the right side door to balance the plane while I scooted to the right- side seat and brought us to shore. I was just waiting for Axel or Bjorn to make a cute comment like, Hey, nice landing, or Whered you learn to fly? To my surprise, however, no one said a word. All this, I suppose, would have been more frightening if we werent escaped convicts and our adrenaline levels werent off the charts. Apparently, when you have risen from the dead and feel lucky just to be alive, little things like crash landings and broken wings dont seem like such a big deal. Anyway, the train ride from Como to Rome went much smoother. We traveled first to the city of Milan where we each enjoyed some terrific cappuccino before changing trains. From there, we headed to Rome, arriving at the Roma Termini railway station just before 11 a.m. According to Bjorn, we would be able to relax in the sprawling city without looking over our shoulders constantly. Nonetheless, he and Axel stopped at an old-style barber shop where they had their beards shaved off and their hair cut short. After that, they bought baseball caps and sunglasses from street vendors just to be sure they were not recognized.
As for myself, a pair of sunglasses sufficedespecially after seeing how stupid Bjorn and Axel looked. I was not sure what arrangements Mark Westfall or the President had made for my incarceration, but I doubted they were monitoring things too closely from Washington. If they were, they would probably be shocked to find that I had taken part in a jailbreak and was now on the lam. Either way, the authorities here in Europe surely knew Id been planted at Oberwald and they probably wouldnt be too worried about finding me. Until I had a chance to gather more information from Bjorn Gundersen, I hoped they were not too worried about finding him, either. After our disguises were completed, Axel gave us each a new passport, which looked pretty authentic. He also gave each of us a wad of money, about 3000 euros, along with keys to separate apartments and directions to each. As I took my key from Axel, he gave me a piece of advice, Try to keep away from the policeand stay off the The grid? I guessed. Yes, yes. The grid. No computers and no phones, please. He looked at Bjorn and me and smiled. Id hate to see you wind up back at that awful prison. Next time, they might wonder if I am really a medical examiner. We both chuckled at that and Bjorn assured him, Dont worry, my friend. There wont be a next time. Axel nodded. Your apartments are both located on quiet streets, though not far from Piazza Navona. The Piazza, I knew, was close to the Pantheon. It was also one of Romes more popular attractions for visitors and a lively spot for street performers, vendors, and pickpockets. Axel continued, Try to stay at the apartments so I can find you. In a low voice, he added, Tjuren is putting together a new plan for the group and will probably want your advice. Bjorn thought about that, then leaned close to let me know, Tjuren is the leader of the Skilja. His name means The Bull in Swedish.
The Bull? Is he someone youre sure you can trust, or? He smiled at that. I dont know. He turned to Axel and asked, Axel, my friend, do you think this Tjuren fellow is a man we can trust? Axel seemed to find that amusing. He turned to me and answered, Only if hes not drinkin. He and Bjorn chuckled at that. Well, I couldnt wait to meet this guy. Maybe Ill buy him a drink. Bjorn informed me, His actual name is Amol. Amol Thorsen, and he is my good friend. He then gestured to Axel and added, He is also Axels father. Well, that surprised me. I wondered what it would be like to be the son of an international terrorist. My dad, on the extreme contrary, had been a legal advisor for the CIA for almost twenty years. Though when you really think about it Tjuren is not actually here in Rome, Axel informed me, but I assume he will be in contact with us before long. He explained, Right now, it would be too dangerous for Bjorn to travel, especially to Sweden, so the two of you may be here for some time. Well, Daddy can forget that drink then. Still, I hoped I would have some opportunities to find out more about the Skiljaand especially about their assets that Bjorn had mentioned. The Presidents mission for me was to determine whether the Tokyo earthquake was a natural disaster or somehow manmade. So far, the Skilja were the only lead I had, and their mighty warlord, Tjuren, just might hold the information I was looking for. After thanking Axel and ensuring him of our trust, however wavering that may be, Bjorn and I headed in the direction of the nearest bus station. Before we had gone far, Bjorn looked over his shoulder and saw that Axel was walking in the opposite direction. He quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me into the alcove at the entrance of a bookstore. From that spot, he peered back and watched to see where Axel was heading. We must follow him, he whispered to me. I looked through the store window and saw an elderly man inside sitting behind the counter. He was watching us and seemed concerned.
Follow him where? To his apartment? Without taking his eyes off Axel he replied, We would be wise to know where hes headed, dont you think? I agree. What happened to trust? After a moment, Bjorn and I emerged from our hiding spot and began following Axel, though from a good distance. Now and then, Axel would glance back over his shoulder, but Bjorn and I were quick and managed to remain unseen. At one point, Axel surprised us by turning suddenly and retracing his steps. He did this for a short distance before turning back again and continuing on his way. This, I knew, was an old but effective technique to assure that you are not being followed. Fortunately for Bjorn and me, we were able to duck into the entrance of a restaurant before being sighted. We continued following Axel for a few blocks along Via Torino until he came to a stop in front of a set of wide wooden doors. There, he took a moment to look around. Satisfied that no one was watching, he used a key to open one of the doors and slipped in. From behind a high staircase, we watched the door for a few minutes before walking back the way we came to the bus stop at Via Nazionale. While waiting for the next bus, I asked Bjorn, So, do we head to our apartments now? Do you think were safe? He considered that for a moment and then let me know, Yes, I think we can trust young Axel. How about his father? Now that Axel isnt around you can tell me the truth. He nodded. Amol Thorsen and I have known each other since we were children. Though he and I do not always agree, we have always managed to maintain a degree of respect for each other. He looked away and added, Also, he is married to my sister. Oh. So Axel is your nephew? He let out a short grunt. Not quite, he replied. From what I understand, Axels mother was a ships whore. He looked at me and clarified that. A prostitute on a cargo ship.
Just then, our bus pulled up and Bjorn and I boarded. The ride took us west for about ten minutes, stopping several times along the way. Soon on the left, I recognized Piazza Venezia and the inimitable Altare della Patria, which is often referred to by foreigners as the wedding cake. We also passed some ancient ruins, some of which I realized were actually apartments buildings, before reaching a magnificent church where we turned north. After a few hundred feet, the bus pulled over. I recognized from the directions Axel had given me that this was my stop. Bjorn and I stepped off the bus and followed a maze of narrow streets until we arrived at my apartment on Via della Posta Vecchia. Across from the apartment was a small outdoor caf with about a dozen tables and white plastic chairs. Bjorn and I entered through the large black double doors, which opened into a receiving room fronting a stairwell entrance. I checked my directions and found that my room was located on the third floor. I also noticed there was no elevator. Go up and take a look, Bjorn suggested. Ill wait here. I headed up the narrow staircase to the third floor. I tried the key on my door, which worked, and I left the door open while I stepped in to look around. The apartment itself was old, I could tell, but looked as though it had been renovated and refurnished recently. The living room featured a couch and a leather recliner which both faced a large TV mounted on the far wall. The kitchen was small, as is typical for Europe, and featured bright red appliances and cabinets. The bathroom, too, was microscopic, but would do. Across from the kitchen, a brick and mortar archway opened to the bedroom, which consisted of one large bed along with a clothes hamper and a narrow closet. The temperature outside was now almost sixty degrees, so I took off my jacket and hung it in the closet. As I stepped out of the bedroom, I heard the sound of voices coming from the hall. Right away, I could tell that they were my brand of people: Americans. As I left the apartment I encountered them, a young couple who were preparing to head downstairs. The young man, who looked to be about thirty or so, nodded at me and switched to Italian: Buongiorno. Good morning, I replied.
The girl, who seemed much younger, looked at me. You must be an American, right? I nodded. Im visiting from Virginia. How about you two? Im currently a sailor in the Navy, the young man replied, but from New Jersey originally. He looked at the girl and asked, Where are you from again, Paige? She gave him a frown. I told you last night, Im from Brooklyn. She smiled at me and asked, Do you have a name? Its Craig, and its nice to meet you, Paige. The young man introduced himself as Mike. As he and I shook hands, he offered, Paige and I will be at the plaza tonight, somewhere near the south corner. Come and join us if youd like. Ill let you buy me a drink, Paige joked. I smiled. I dont know what my plans are, but Ill join you there if I can. From the bottom of the stairs we headed out to the street where Mike and Paige waved goodbye. I saw that Bjorn had walked over to the small caf and was checking their menu. He spotted me and began walking up the road toward the plaza. As I joined him, I asked, Did you want to grab a bite from that caf? He shook his head. The waiter was kind enough to point out a grocery store up this way. Id prefer to pick up a few things there, then head to my apartment. Before we reached the plaza, we found the grocery. From the outside, it looked like a hole in the wall. Once inside, however, I was surprised how huge the place actually was. I first went to the wine section and picked out a few Italian reds. These were dirt cheap compared to what I would pay back home. After that, I grabbed some table grapes, a few African oranges, and a selection of olives. From the deli, I found some of the bare essentials I knew Id need, such as a tub of marinated mozzarella cheese, a box of crackers, and a jar of pickled herring. After that, I grabbed a few items from the toiletry section and I was set.
Bjorn noticed my selections and nodded in approval. I saw that he had made some similar choices including, of course, the red wines and the olives. Once we were done shopping, Bjorn and I cut across the south end of Piazza Navona, which was crowded with tourists. From there, we followed Axels directions to a street named Via del Governo Vecchio. After walking one block, we arrived at Bjorns apartment. The doorway looked much like mine, though the street was busier with pedestrians and vendors everywhere. Next to Bjorns apartment was a pizzeria with outdoor seating. I got a whiff of the enticing aroma rolling out of its doors and felt my stomach growl. Bjorn used his key on the door and the two of us went inside. As I stepped in, I was surprised to find that this was the actual apartment, and there were no stairs or other units accessible from this doorway. Other than that, the apartment seemed similar to mine in size and amenities. Bjorn walked through the place quickly and then began putting his groceries away. Do we have any plans for today? I asked. I was hoping that Bjorn and I would have a chance to talk about things. Like earthquakes for example. Bjorn drew a weary breath and let me know, I think Ive done about enough for one day, my friend. Well, that was an understatementespecially when you thought about everything that had transpired since we woke up in body bags. He continued, Im going to snack on a few things and then try to get some sleep. He suggested, Perhaps you should go home and do the same. I think I will, I replied, though I planned to try some pizza from next door first. Plus I wanted to walk over to the Pantheon. We should hear from Tjuren within a few days, he said. Im not sure of your plans, but perhaps he will be able to help you. I nodded.
I should warn you, though: Tjuren will almost certainly try to persuade you to join his group, the Skilja, before he offers to assist you further. He smiled and added, If you refuse, do not be surprised if he then demands to be compensated for engineering your escape from Oberwald. I had already concluded that this Tjuren guy was a real bastard. It was Bjorn Gundersen, however, that I had yet to figure out.
Chapter 6
As I stepped out of Bjorns apartment, I had an instant craving for fresh baked pizza. I went straight to the small restaurant next door and sat myself in a corner. Once there, I ordered a Pizza Margherita and a glass of Chianti. While waiting for my meal, I kept an eye on Bjorns door to see if he had other plans for this evening. I also thought about what he had told me about Tjuren, and wondered if he was being honest with me about him and his son, Axel. The three of them, Bjorn, Tjuren, and Axel knew little about me and so far had asked few questions. Naturally, I had come up with a cover story for why I was at Oberwald. I was sure that Tjuren would ask about that, plus a few other things if I offered to join the Skilja. Its hard to cover every track, especially these days with everything being computerized and digitalized, and I knew that if Tjuren dug deep enough in the right places, he might find something linking me to my previous employment. And that, of course, would be the end of Craig Van Essen. After finishing my pizza and Chianti, which hit the spot, I headed back to my apartment building where I went upstairs to my room and put away the groceries. I looked over at my bed for a moment but felt it was too early for sleep, so I grabbed my jacket from the closet and went back downstairs. I decided to take a walk through the nearby city square of Piazza Navona, which I knew was one of Rome's liveliest spots. In the center of the square, I stopped at the famous Fountain of the Four Rivers, which was surrounded by tourists, then walked from there to the northern end of the plaza where I strolled past another famous landmark, the Neptune Fountain. Across from the fountain, I spotted a row of artists and vendors with their products on display. One of the vendors was a slender and attractive woman who looked about my age, maybe younger. As I glanced at her, our eyes met and she smiled warmly. I didnt want to appear prudish, so I made my way over to her vending stand, which featured paintings and photographs of the plaza and the fountains, as well as a selection of cheap jewelry and watches.
She greeted me in accented English, so I figured she knew how to spot an American. While I took a moment to look at a black sports watch, my mind was busy thinking of a way to start a conversation. From the corner of my eye, I noticed she was now smiling at another guy near the fountain, and I turned to see him smiling back at her. Having discovered her game, I decided to cancel my romantic plans for her. Nonetheless, I went ahead and purchased the watch anyway. After forking out eighty euros, I asked her for walking directions to the Pantheon. Though I couldnt quite understand her reply, I thanked her and began walking in the general direction shed pointed. I walked south past more vendors until I reached a pedestrian corridor that connected to a main road on the other side. I followed this before heading through a few narrow alleys and past grand churches and buildings until finally arriving in front of the ancient and magnificent Pantheon. Admission was free, which surprised me, so I walked through its marble columned portico and into the main building. As soon as I stepped inside, I felt the temperature drop a few degrees. I looked up to see the oculus or great eye, an opening at the top of the dome originally intended to allow the smoke from offerings to escape. The Pantheon was originally built as a temple to the pagan gods before becoming a Catholic church. I also knew that it was the burial place of numerous kings and dignitaries, including Raphael, the great artist of the High Renaissance. I stood in the center of the rotunda and took a moment to consider how many people had come here and stood at this same spot over the past two thousand years. As I thought about it, I remembered that during our vacation to Rome my wife and daughter had stood here themselves. I went back outside and wandered the quaint and narrow roads of Rome, which was one of my favorite things to do here. The fragrant aromas of baked goods, Italian cooking, and grilled meats were always tempting. Before long, it was becoming dark and I could feel the temperature dropping quickly. I zipped my jacket and began heading back in the direction of my apartment. When I reached Piazza Navona, I saw the crowds of tourists had now found seats at the numerous outdoor bars and restaurants positioned along the east side of the plaza, and there were street
performers working the crowd along with numerous musicians and bands playing for tips. When I approached the southeast corner, which was close to my apartment, I spotted the young American couple I had met earlier, Mike and Paige. They spotted me, too. Paige waved to me excitedly and directed me to a chair beside her at a small table. As I greeted them and sat, I saw that a small street band was setting up and were busily preparing their guitars, amplifiers, and microphones. I couldnt help but notice the lead singer, who was a rather shapely young woman. She looked fairly attractive, I suppose, if you like Italian supermodel types. She had long black hair that looked just right with her black leather skirt, long legs, and high-heel boots. Try not to stare too hard, Paige advised me. Youll get cross- eyed. What? I was just admiring thethe Moor fountain over there. She gave me a smirk. Its a historical landmark. She laughed under her breath. Im pretty sure you were studying another Italian landmark. She showed me her empty mug. Wanna buy me a beer? I waved a waiter over. I wasnt sure what Mikes relationship with Paige was, but I doubted that he would mind my contributing to her delinquency. I asked her, How old are you, anyway? She rolled her eyes. Why does every guy think they have to ask me that? Uhso we dont go to jail? Shes eighteen, Mike assured me. That was the first thing I checked, too. Paige let out a deep breath. As the waiter made his way to our table, I read what was printed on his t-shirt and chuckled to myself, which Mike seemed to notice.
After taking our order for three large beers the waiter proudly showed Mike his shirt, which read: Se non ti piace il nostro servizio, si prega di abbassare i vostri standard. After the waiter stepped away, Mike leaned over the table and asked me, What did his shirt say, Craig? Could you read that? I dont know much Italian, I replied, but I think it said something like: If you don't like our service, please lower your standards. He chuckled at that and let me know, My standards are pretty low already. He then glanced over at Paige and quickly added, Except with women. Good recovery, Mike. The waiter returned with our order and the three of us drank and chatted for a while. I learned that Paige and Mike had met only last night at a nearby club. I also learned that Mike was leaving tonight for his boat, a Navy ship, which would be sailing out at the crack of dawn. While we chatted, I noticed that Paige was subtly shifting the focus of her attention from Mike, who she knew was as good as gone, to me, who was old enough to be heruncle. I looked at Paige while she sipped her beer and saw that she had pretty brown hair and a cute face with full makeup, but I knew I wasnt about to lower my standards to that of a teenager. Just then, the band began playing and I turned to see the black- haired beauty strumming a guitar as she began singing. As I studied the girl, I realized that she was probably only eighteen or so herself. For her, I thought, I would make a one-time exception. Paige interrupted my thoughts and asked me, How can she dress like that? Its freezing, and shes wearing a miniskirt. Thats why shes moving her hips all over like thatso she can stay warm. I added, Thats how you can tell shes a professional. She grunted at that. A professional what? Anyway, while the band played, the three of us talked more and I could tell we enjoyed each others company. Above us, the moon cast its light over the plaza, creating a festive feeling to the otherwise frigid
night. I noticed that our beers had emptied themselves and I ordered another round. Paige was becoming friendlier with me as the evening rolled on, and I sensed that Mike didnt care. Before long, while I watched my new favorite singer moving around and keeping warm, I felt Paiges hand on my leg, and it was inching straight for my middle part. Mike was focused on the singer, so I leaned close to Paiges ear and whispered, Youre a pretty girl, Paige, and I like you, but youre simply too young for me. I took her hand from my loins and slapped it playfully. She giggled at that, and went back to nursing her beer. Before long, the band took a break and Mike got up to leave a tip on their collection vase, which was set prominently at center stage. He then came back to the table and told us, I have to head back to my ship now. If Im late, theyll kill me. He added, Im already in enough trouble as it is. Trouble for what? Paige asked. Mike shook his head and made no reply to that. He then mentioned, It was great meeting you Craig. Sorry I have to run. As we shook hands, I thought about Mike for a second. He seemed like a sharp-thinker, and he and I seemed to have a few things in common. I looked him in the eye and told him, When youre ready to leave the Navy, I want you to look me up. If youre good, you should be able find me and, if youre interested, I might be able to help you out with finding a job in the private sector. Sounds great. What kind of business are you in, Craig? Right now, Ive got a temporary thing going, I said, but I hope to be back in the aerospace industry before too long. Wow. Ill definitely take you up on that offer. Thanks. Its Craig Van Essen, right? I nodded at that and mentioned, You never told me your last name, Mike. Its Brennan.
Paige guzzled down the rest of her beer and grabbed her backpack as we all got up to leave. She tugged at Mikes shoulder and I overheard her ask him, Where am I supposed to stay tonight? Mike looked at her, as though he had not thought about that. OhI He glanced at me for a moment, and then reached for his wallet and told her, Maybe theres a hotel near here, or What about your apartment? I asked. Mike looked at me and appeared concerned. That was ours only for one night, he explained, and the new people probably moved in already. I glanced at Mikes thin-looking wallet and suggested, Paige can stay with me tonightI looked at herif she doesnt mind sleeping on the couch. Paige lit up. Great! Thats perfect! At that, Mike seemed relieved and slid his wallet back into his pocket. The three of us then headed to my apartment, which was only a block away. Once there, I walked up the stairs and left the door open for Paige who needed a few minutes to say good bye to Mike. Later, she arrived at the apartment and I showed her the couch which I had set up with pillows and blankets. She looked at the couch for a moment and then offered, Are you sure you dont want to share the bed? She smiled coyly. Most of the apartments lights were out, though the white moonlight was creeping in through the windows. I studied Paige for a moment, who obviously wanted a man tonight, and noticed that she looked attractive in the way the faint moonlight fell upon her face and glistened on her hair. As she stood there, she looked down and began unbuttoning her shirt. Though I was half-tempted to help her with the rest of the buttons, I held my hand up. Stop! Paige looked up at me, somewhat surprised. Though I had been in mourning for a while and hadnt been with a woman during all that time, something in my mind told me that the
next woman Id bed after my wife wasnt going to be a deprived teenager. I stepped over to her and held her shoulders while I kissed her head. I dont want to be your sex friend, I told her, but Id like to be your friend. Can we do that? She seemed embarrassed, I could tell, but she shrugged and answered, I guess so. Do I have a choice? Actually, no. That doesnt usually work between guys and girls. Well, she had a point there. I thought about that for a moment and told her, It does if youre working for me. I explained, Im here in Rome on business, and I could use an assistant. Interested in a job? She studied me for a moment and could see that I was serious. Exactly what kind of business are you in, Craig? If you take the job, youll need to start calling me Mr. Van Essenespecially if were in public. Okay? Uhokay. I work for the government as an independent contractor. Im usually hired to analyze international security issues. She thought about that. So, what, youre a spy? I laughed at that, perhaps too hard. A spy? Oh, God no. I just study groups or people and report on my findings. She looked at me with a puckered brow. Sounds a lot like espionage to me, butwhatever. How much do I get paid? For now, youll be working for room and board. If you turn out to be a good assistant, well discuss things further. Paige looked as if she was considering this. Well, since you didnt try to fuck me, Mr. Van Essen, I guess I can trust you. At least for tonight. We both smiled at that, and she stepped over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Besides, she said, you only live once, right? If you do it right, I replied, once is enough.
Chapter 7
Wednesday, January 27, 2021
I had left my bedroom window open only an inch, but that was enough to cool the entire room, which was great. It was also enough to allow the noise from the street below to wake me several times during the night, which was not so great. As I lay there half-asleep, I could tell that the early morning light had arrived and had begun to shine over the city. Soon, I detected the distinct aroma of cappuccino as it drifted through the air from every restaurant, coffee shop, and kitchen in Rome. I also noticed the faint sound of a woman breathing beside me, and I could feel the warmth of her body against my back, which felt good. A quiet battle was being waged between my conscious mind, which thought I had had enough rest, and my subconscious mind, which felt I could use another few minutes of sleep. Just then, the sound of a moped buzzing through the narrow road below put an end to the battle. As one of my eyes popped open, it became clear to me that I was not alone. I slowly turned to see that young Paige ONeill had crawled into my bed during the night and was sound asleep beside me. Somehow, I wasnt entirely surprised. I slid quietly out of the bed and headed to the bathroom. There, I performed my usual preventative maintenance program of shaving, showering, and brushing. I then returned to the bedroom again to find Paige still sleeping. I dressed quietly and went downstairs in search of a much needed cappuccino. When I reached the street, I looked up and saw the sky was overcast and could feel the air was damp and heavy. It was a drab-looking morning, but I was glad to see that the caf across from my apartment was open for business. A small crowd of coffee drinkers were gathered around, so I headed straight there. I waited in line for a few minutes until a stout-looking middle-aged woman took my order. She wore a nametag that told me her name was Myrna, and she looked like she could use some caffeine herself. I
forked over three euros, and she quickly whipped up a small, steaming cup of heaven. I took a good whiff, then started sipping. In that same moment, the whole city of Rome became instantly more beautiful and even the people around me seemed slightly better looking. Except for Myrna. As I stood there enjoying my drink and my surroundings, I was surprised to see Bjorn Gundersen walking out of the entrance of my apartment and heading up the street. I gulped the rest of my cappuccino and went after him. As I caught up with him, he turned and greeted me, Ah, there you are, Mr. Van Essen! He stopped to pat me on the back and said, I see youve met a young lady. He pointed his thumb up to my apartment and grinned. Oh God, she must have answered the door. I tried to explain, Uhshe and I arent actually involved in any way, Bjorn, just so you know Its all right, my friend, he assured me. This is Rome, the city of love, correct? Actually, I think thats Paris. I tried again to explain, I just dont want you to think that the girl and I have something going, you know what I mean? All right. I understand. But I think you are doing better than me. I slept by myself last nightand my apartment was freezing. He poked me and added, Im sure you were warm, though. Okay, it was time to change topics. What brings you to this neck of the woods, Bjorn? He glanced around for a second, as though he was looking for trees and bushes, so I realized that choice of phrase didnt translate too well. I rephrased the question, Why did you come here? Is everything all right? Oh, yes, everything seems to be all right, he replied. I wanted you to know that I found a message in my apartment. It was sent by Tjuren, of course, and it seems he wants me to meet with one of his contacts this morning.
Where is the meeting? He pointed in the direction of Piazza Navona. There is a caf up ahead at the plaza: Caff Barocco. According to his message, I am to go there at 7:30 a.m. and wait for the contact to find me. I see. I glanced at my watch, and saw that it was 7:05 already. I asked, Is this good news? He shook his head. Not exactly, he replied. Though it is to be expected. Im sure Tjuren will want some form of compensation for aiding in my escape. What would he want from you? Nothing Id be willing to provide, but it would be an insult not to meet with his contact. I have nothing to give Tjuren, other than my friendship and my thanks. I nodded at that and asked, Is there anything I can do? He thought about that for a moment and soon came up with an idea. At the caf, perhaps you can sit at a nearby table and observe, if you dont mind. He looked at me and suggested, If you bring your young girlfriend along, the two of you will appear as tourists or lovers. She isnt my girlfriend, Bjorn, or my lover, but Im sure shell be glad to come along. Thank you, my friend. I will see you therebut remember to act as though you dont know me. Ill try to remember. I left Bjorn and headed back to my apartment where I walked in and found Paige dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, looking in the refrigerator. Get dressed, I told her. We have a job to do and we need to be there in ten minutes. She turned and looked at me in surprise. Its only, like, seven oclock. What are we going to do? Were going to a caf for breakfast where well act like were tourists. While were there, I want to observe a meeting between an associate of mine and a contact. Can you handle that? Sure, she replied. Is your associate a spy, too?
I let out a breath. Look, Paige, if I were a spy, Id simply tell you instead of No you wouldnt. If you did, you wouldnt be much of a spy, would you? Okay, she had a point. Look, I dont have time to argue. Just throw on some clothes so we can leave, all right? She grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom. While she was in there, I went to the bedroom and took my gun and holster from the closet. I slipped the holster over my shoulder, fastened it, and then took a moment to perform cursory inspection of the weapon. Once done, I put my jacket back on and waited for Paige. After a few minutes, she emerged from the bathroom dressed in black stretch pants and a grey hoodie. I didnt have time for makeup, she told me. Do I look all right? You look fine, I lied. Lets get going. She followed me down the stairs and outside, where I began walking briskly up the road to the plaza. I turned to see Paige about thirty feet behind me, so I slowed down and waited for her. Once she caught up, I reached for her hand and we began walking side by side. I noticed she was smiling, so I explained, Just so you know, were posing as lovers, which is why were holding hands. So, it would probably be good if we stopped and kissed for a while, like, for show, right? Dont push it, Paige. We dont have to be that convincing. After wed walked further, she asked me, Are you married? Im a widower. My wife passed away about five months ago. She stopped and looked at me for a moment, then all at once gave me a hug. Im sorry, Craig. Dont worry about it. Now lets go. Within minutes, she and I found Caff Barocco, and we sat ourselves at a small table facing the plaza. A waiter came over and I ordered cappuccinos for both of us, along with cornettos, which is
what some Italians call croissants. My last cappuccino was rushed, so I planned to nurse this one. While Paige and I waited in the cool of the morning, I could see the shadows on the buildings across from us slowly receding as the sun rose higher. I put on my sunglasses and looked around. Vendors, I noticed, were setting up shop, preparing for another day of business. Groups of pigeons wandered about the plaza while a few brave ones ventured close to the caf, looking for crumbs. After a minute or so, Paige turned to me and asked, So, am I working as your assistant right now, or does that start later? As long as youre awake, I told her, youre on the clock. Really? I looked at her and continued, Speaking of which: when its time to sleep, you need to stay on the couch. Understand? I couldnt sleep on that awful thing. Why? Because it was uncomfortable?or because a man was available in the next room? She seemed think about that, then told me, A little of both, I guess. At least she was being honest. Dont climb into my bed again, or youre fired. Understand? She rolled her eyes. Yes, Craig. Its Mr. Van Essen, remember? Just then, the waiter appeared with our breakfast. At the same time, I spotted Bjorn as he approached the caf. Thats him, I whispered to Paige. My associate. She nodded and whispered back, He looks like a spy. I shook my head. It was going to be a long day, I could tell. After serving Paige and I, the waiter went over to Bjorns table and took his order, which sounded like biscotti and a cup of espresso. I had no idea how long it would be before Tjurens contact arrived, but I told Paige to go slow with our tiny meal.
After a few minutes, the waiter delivered Bjorns order, then stopped to ask Paige and me if there was anything else we would like. I requested a biscotti for Paige, just in case the contact person was late. I mentioned to Paige, I could spend an hour trying to eat one of those, if I had to. What are they, anyway? A biscotti is a really hard cookie, though you could also use one to drive a nail into concrete. I warned her, Dont try to bite into one, or you could chip a tooth. You have to soak them in your coffee first. Just then, I saw her eyes dart to the right and I turned to see a woman approaching Bjorns table. From the corner of my eye, I could see she was wearing a wide scarf around her neck and a suede vest over a sweater along with black denim pants and knee-high walking boots. She had long brown hair, I could tell, but her face was mostly hidden by a wide brimmed felt hat and huge sunglasses. The waiter returned with our biscotti, then stepped over to Bjorns table again. I heard the woman greet Bjorn in English before ordering an espresso in Italian. I was not sure yet, but from her English I guessed that she was American, though with a faint European accent. While Paige soaked her nail driver, I repositioned myself to have a better look. I saw that the woman had removed her sunglasses, revealing a young, pretty face. Behind the hat, scarf, and winter clothes, I could tell she was an attractive lady. Youre going to go cross-eyed again, Paige whispered. I turned my attention to my drink, and took a few sips while I listened. After chatting for a moment, the woman explained that she had a message to deliver, and pulled a small envelope from her large purse and set it on the table. She also pulled out a cell phone and placed it beside the envelope. Whats the phone for? I heard him ask. I have no idea, she replied. She then made it clear to Bjorn that she did not know the contents of the message, the purpose of the phone, nor the identity of the sender. Im simply a messenger, I heard her say, and I was asked to deliver the envelope and phone to
you. After you read the message, you are to tell me either yes or no and nothing elseand then I am to leave. Bjorn glanced at the envelope and phone. He then mentioned to her, Feel free to order breakfast. I think Id enjoy the company of such an attractive young lady. Im afraid I must be leaving soon, she told him, but thank you. Could you please read the message and give me your answer?" Bjorn persisted, Perhaps dinner tonight? She smiled. Please. I need you to tell me whether your answer is yes or no. Very well, then. I watched discretely as Bjorn tore open the envelope, pulled out a short note, and read it to himself. When he had finished, I saw him draw an exasperated breath as he tucked the note back into the envelope. After a long moment, he finally replied, That bastard. He then looked over at the woman and said, Tell him my answer is no. I watched as the woman stood from the table. She smiled politely and said, Grazie e arrivederci Thank you and goodbye. She turned and walked away. I looked at Paige and whispered, Can you follow her without being seen? She splashed down the rest of her cappuccino and nodded. Im on it. Paige waited until the woman was well away before she stood from her chair and started after her. I gave Bjorn a minute, and then asked, What did the bastard say? He shook his head. Tjuren is making demands that he knows I cannot He stopped for a moment and appeared to be in deep thought. He then slammed his fist on the table and yelled something in Swedish, which I assumed was an obscenity. At that, the waiter looked at us and began heading over. Bjorn then turned to me with fire in his eyes and told me, Go find that woman!
Chapter 8
The lady messenger was headed across the plaza. With one eye on her, I pulled out a fifty euro note and handed it to the waiter. I told him, Mantenere la gratuit. Keep the tip. I then headed after her. A light drizzle had begun, so I reached back and unzipped the hood from the neck of my jacket and pulled it over my head. At the other side of the plaza, I spotted Paige and could tell she was trying to appear inconspicuous as she followed our target. When Paige turned and saw me following, she noticed the hood on my head and pulled hers up as well. I noticed the woman had glanced over her shoulder a time or two, but hadnt yet performed any of the usual maneuvers Id expect a pro to use. This meant she was either an amateur and didnt realize she was being tailed, or she was a pro and wanted us to know where she was going. I was really hoping she was an amateur. Soon, she entered a narrow corridor on the west side of the plaza beside the church of Sant'Agnese. Paige stopped there and crouched down while pretending to tie her shoe. I walked quickly through a field of vendors and tourists until I reached the other side. Once there, I peered carefully around the corner of the corridor. Paige stepped beside me. There she is, she whispered, pointing at the woman. The two of us watched as she reached the road at the end of the corridor were she looked around for a moment. She then turned right and continued walking. Ill take it from here, I told Paige, and Ill see you back at the apartment. Bullshit. We should both follow her in case one of us loses her. She looked at me and smirked. You probably just want her phone number anyway.
What? At that point, I didnt have time to argue, which I knew would be futile anyway. Lets just find where shes going. Well split up, and Ill go first. Understand? Before Paige could argue with that, I headed down the corridor and soon reached the far end. I stepped beside a caf table and glanced around the corner where I could see our target about two hundred feet ahead of us. I signaled Paige to come quickly. Just as I was about to step out onto the road, I looked and saw that the woman had stopped suddenly and turned around. I froze where I was and signaled Paige to wait. Patrons of the small caf had stopped sipping their espressos and were gawking at Paige and I from under their umbrellas, no doubt wondering what we were up to. The lady messenger didnt seem to notice any of this and continued walking. I waited a moment before I stepped out from behind the corner and began following her again. While she chose to walk in the street, I kept to the sidewalk on the left, which provided plenty of cover with all the cafs, mopeds, and big potted plants along the way. Before long, she came to an intersection where she stopped for a moment. I quickly ducked behind a parked car where I was able to observe her through the vehicles windows. As she began walking again, a gust of wind came and blew her hat from her head. I watched as the hat was carried by the wind across the small intersection and into the path of a motorized scooter. Before the woman had time to react, the scooter came zooming around the corner. The rider seemed to see the hat and tried to swerve around it. Nonetheless, he was unable to avoid running it over. The woman seemed dumbstruck for a moment, then produced an umbrella from her purse. She opened the umbrella, then raised it over her head and continued walking. There were few hiding places around, so I waited a minute. Once she was well ahead, I crossed the intersection and stood at a vending stand, watching her from the corner of my eye. From the main road, she turned right at a pedestrian walkway, and then left at another narrow road. As I started after her again, I noticed Paige strolling up the opposite side of the road. She looked over at me and shrugged, signaling that she had lost sight of the target.
I pointed to the road on the left and Paige headed straight there, stopping at the corner to tie her shoe again and looking down the road as she did so. After a moment, she stood and hid herself behind the corner while waving me over. I walked out onto the road and picked up the womans hat, brushing the mud from it with my hand. I then walked quickly to where Paige was hiding and stood next to her. She whispered to me, I think your girlfriend reached her apartment. Look. Cautiously, I peered around the corner with one eye. Halfway up the road, I saw our target remove a key from a potted plant, then use it to unlock a door. After looking around and seeing no one, she placed the key back in its hiding spot and entered the building, closing the door behind her. At this point, I was fairly certain that our target was an amateur. After a moment, I told Paige to follow me and we began walking casually down the narrow road. When we were halfway to the apartment door, we stopped and stood beside a row of parked scooters where we pretended to be engaged in conversation. I kept one eye on the womans apartment and the other on the upstairs windows, checking for any sign of movement. After a few minutes, Paige whispered, Have you seen anything yet? I shook my head. Im going in. If I dont come back or signal you within ten minutes, youll need to get out of hereand dont go back to the apartment. Are you trying to get rid of me? she asked. I gave her a look. Im trying to protect you. If I wanted to get rid of you I wouldnt have hired you as my assistant. I walked over to the potted plant and quickly found the key. With it, I opened the door to the apartment building and went in. The receiving room was poorly lit, and I could see there was no elevator. I could also see a row of small bronze letterboxes built into the wall at the far end of the room. I walked over to the boxes and saw that eight of them had the names of residents printed on their labels, while the remaining two were blank. The blank ones, for now, were my primary suspects. One
of those apartments, 2-C, was on the second floor while the other, apartment 3-A, was on the third. With the womans hat in my hand, I headed up the stairs while I unzipped my jacket and pulled the hood from my head. When I reached the second floor, I walked as quietly as possible to the door of the first suspect apartment. Just like the receiving room downstairs, the hallway was poorly lit. I positioned myself low to the floor and looked for clues that the woman had been here, but saw nothing. I headed upstairs. Outside of apartment 3-A, I crouched low and studied the floor. It was difficult to see anything, so I positioned myself in a way that allowed the faint light from the end of the hall to reflect across the floor. After a few seconds, I found what I was looking for. A drop of water. I fixed my hair quickly and then knocked. After a moment or two, I noticed a shadow moving beneath the door as she approached. Chi ? she said. Who is it? I cleared my throat. I brought you your hat, maam. What? You left your hat in the street, maam, and Ive brought it to you. I heard a lock turn and she opened the door, which was her first mistake. I was a complete stranger, and though I wasnt here to hurt anyone, she didnt know that. As she opened the door a few inches, I noticed the security chain had not been latched, which was her second mistake. I held up the hat for her to see while wearing a big, friendly grin. Oh, my goodness, she said, noticing the hat. She then looked up at me and smiled. I cant believe you brought this to me. At that, she opened the door all the way, which, of course, was her third mistake. I stepped forward and quickly dismissed with the smiles and pleasantry. I told her firmly, I need to talk to you about the message you just delivered.
Her smile disappeared too, and she seemed at once shocked. Quickly, I pushed my way through the door and closed it behind me. In a low voice I assured her, Im not here to hurt you, maam, but I have a few questions that I need to ask. I directed her attention to a chair. Please, sit down. She was stunned by this intrusion, I could tell, but she sat in the chair while I remained standing in front of her. Who are you? she asked. Did you follow me here? Her hands, I noticed, were trembling as she clutched her hat. I carefully moved my left hand into my pant pocket, which opened my jacket enough to allow her to see my holster. As her eyes fixed on that, I told her, Im a government agent. That was true, sort of. I then told her, You may be in danger, maam, and Im here to protect you. Well, that wasnt necessarily truebut it sounded good. I crouched down to where our eyes were level, then assured her, You can trust me. That, of course, was a lie. What kind of agent are you? she asked. Well, that was a fair question. I certainly wasnt about to tell her I was the Presidents Agent, so I thought quickly and came up with a good one: Im working with Interpol, maam, under an intergovernmental commission to track down a group of dangerous terrorists. I asked, Do you know the man you met with at the caf minutes ago? She seemed speechless for a moment, and finally told me, II dont know him at all! I was still crouched down, and as I looked into her green eyes I could see that she was either telling me the truth or she was an excellent liar. She continued, I was told toto just deliver a letter and a phone to himbut I have no idea what its all about. Her lower lip began to curl up as she told me, I dont know what any of this is about, I swear! At that, tears began to fall from her eyes and she covered her face with her hat. Oh God. What have I done?! I stood and went over to her refrigerator. Inside, I found a cold bottle of Perrier which I opened and brought to her. While she sipped,
I stepped over to her window and looked down. On the street below I spotted young Paige and I tapped at the window. When she looked up, I waved to her and signaled that everything was okay. She gave me a thumbs up, blew me a kiss, and began walking away. Who are you signaling to? the woman asked. That was the rest of my team, I told her. I signaled them that were okay here so they can stand down. Goodness. How many people have been watching me? I ignored that and sat on an ottoman facing her. I studied her for a moment and asked, What can you tell me about yourself? She seemed caught off guard by that. She wiped her eyes and replied, Im sure you know everything already. I shook my head. Actually, we discovered you only recently. We dont even know your name. She looked at me in doubt and let me know, My name is Michelle Fontaine, and Im an American. Where in America do you live? New York City. I nodded. What are you doing in Rome, Michelle? Im under contract with Cambrelli-Milan. I was here for a shoot. Is that, like, a modeling agency, or? She rolled her eyes. Yes, it is. Well, excuse me. I looked at her for a moment and had little doubt that she could be a model. I then looked at her Perrier and asked, Can I have a sip, if you dont mind? She handed me the bottle, and I noticed shed stopped trembling. Its hot in here, I said, wiping my forehead. May I take off my jacket for a few minutes? Of course. I told her, Im wearing a holsterwhich sounds nicer than saying, Im carrying a loaded gun.and I dont want to frighten you.
Its okay, she said. I spotted the gun as soon as you came in. I removed my jacket and hung it on a hook near the door. I then sat back down and told her, Im sorry that I had to barge in here like that, but we had so little information on you that we werent sure if you were a terrorist or Of course Im not, she said. I despise violence. Me too, which is why Im trying to nail these guys. I asked, How did you get mixed up in this? She drew a weary breath and let me know, Its a long story. Well, I was in no hurry and I could look at her pretty face and jade- green eyes all day. Take your time. She began, Girls in my occupation normally work under visas, as I am doing here in Rome. I knew I had to get out of modeling, and one day one of the producers came to me. He introduced me to a seemingly nice man who he thought could help me get into broadcasting. What about modeling? I asked. Why would you quit that? Look at me, she said, gesturing to herself. Im thirty already, which is well past the retirement age for models. I did as she said and looked her over. I think youre quite lovely, Miss Fontaine. And that was an understatement. At first she seemed surprised by that comment, and then embarrassed. She waved her hand at me and smiled widely. Oh, you dont know anything. She then continued with her story, Anyway, this seemingly nice man turned out to be not so nice at all. He appeared to know the broadcasting business though, and supposedly had connections with the BBC and the American networks. At first, it seemed that he sincerely wanted to help me. Soon, however, I learned that he was only interested in helping himself. He wanted favors first, right? Yes, she replied. Initially, I thought he might be interested in, you know She looked at me. Sexual favors?
Yes. Thank you. She took a breath and went on, I made it clear to him that that sort of thing was completely out of the question. As it turns out, all he wanted was for me to run simple errands for him, which I agreed to do. What kind of errands? Like what I did today, she replied. Delivering messages to people. I also did other things, such as opening accounts at banks, checking safe-deposit boxes, and mailing things. I never knew anything about what I was dealing with, and I never asked. What about the broadcasting jobs? What happened to that? Well, Nigel kept putting that off and stalling until I finally Did you say Nigel? Yes. Thats his name. Nigel Adams. I wondered if that was a coincidence. I asked Michelle, Can you describe him for me? Of course. Hes about your height, six foot, and about your age, which Im guessing to be around mid-forties Forty-four. She smiled at that and continued, Hes Caucasian and has very short receding blond hair, though its partly grey, a bit of a hook nose Sounds familiar. Does your Nigel have a British accent, by chance? She seemed surprised by that. He does, in fact. Do you know him? He and I may have crossed paths. Really? Where? In prison, actually, but I wasnt going to tell her that. Rather than answer her question, I told her, Im starving. Oh. Can I get you? Can I take you to lunch, Michelle?
She glanced at my gun. If I say no, are you going to shoot me? I might. She smiled. Then in that case, Id better go change. As she headed to her bedroom, I asked, If you had to pack your things, would it take long? She turned and looked at me curiously. Everything I have fits into one suitcase. Why? Maybe youd better start packing.
Chapter 9
Michelle was right, and everything she had really did fit into one suitcase. Of course, the suitcase weighed around 250 pounds, but it was still less than I expectedespecially considering shes a fashion model. She and I left her apartment and headed north, which I knew would take us away from Bjorn Gundersen, Axel Thorsen, and, of course, Paige ONeill. Right now, I felt like I had a small chance with Michelle, like maybe one in fifty. But if she found out that I was sharing my apartment with a trampy little eighteen-year-old, those odds would probably drop to about one in a billion. I had explained to Michelle that her apartment was no longer safe and that she had unwittingly become involved with a group of international terrorists. I wanted to protect her, so I convinced her to relocate to a different part of the city until I came up with a better plan. That way, I could keep in touch with her while I learned more about Bjorn and Axel, as well as my old prison pal, Nigel. Plus, I wanted her to myself. Anyway, she had changed into a clingy dark grey dress, a nice black leather jacket, and strappy heels which, to me, looked too high to be wearablethough she walked like she was born in them. Her long legs were hard for any guy to ignore. Including me. Is this a date? she asked, smiling. I think soif thats what youd like. Id guess Id like it to be a date. Well, that made two of us. I was in the middle of an important mission and I wasnt about to fall in love or start anything serious, but I found her interesting nonetheless. I guess I believed her backstory, tooat least what I had heard so far. I wanted to get to know her better just to be certain she was everything she said she was. Its just smart to make sure a person isnt an axe murderer before you start sticking your neck out for them, right?
Michelle and I continued chatting while walking along her quaint street, and I noticed the drizzle had stopped and there were more people out than earlier. I was pulling Michelles suitcase behind me which was equipped with wheels, and I was glad for that. Especially since shed apparently packed her lead brick collection. I was also glad when I spotted a taxi parked at the end of the street. As we approached the taxi, a black Mercedes SUV, the driver hopped out and helped me load the heavy bag into the rear compartment. Luckily, he understood enough English to know what I wanted. I handed him a hundred euro note and told him to take us to a nice hotel, five stars, and preferably near the Vatican or Castel Sant'Angelo. These locations, I knew, would put Michelle on the other side of the river, which was far enough from Nigel but easy for me to get to. Plus, there would be plenty of things for her to see and do there while I was busy with my other mission, which I had almost forgotten about. The driver told me about a nice place, the Gran Maria on Via del Gianicolo, which was only about a thousand feet from Saint Peters Square in Vatican City. Its expensive, he told me, and then rubbed his fingers together in case I somehow did not understand that. Perfetto, I told him. Perfect. After we climbed in, the driver pulled out of the parking area and took a left onto a busy four-lane road paralleling the Tiber. Like all Italian taxi drivers, he floored it as soon as he could. Before long, we flew past Ponte Sant'Angelo, the iconic pedestrian bridge which connects to Castel Sant'Angelo. In the distance, I could see the dome of Saint Peters Basilica. At the next bridge, we turned right and headed out of Old Rome and into the Vatican District, which, to me, looked just as old. Within minutes, we arrived at the Gran Maria where we turned into the circle drive and pulled up to the entrance. The hotel had an impressive entrance surrounded by vast gardens, fountains, and modern sculptures. A valet appeared at once and carefully removed Michelles brick collection from the trunk while she and I entered the lobby, which seemed massive enough to fly a plane around in.
On the way to the check-in desk, I spotted an ATM and excused myself while Michelle helped herself to a complimentary glass of juice at a side table. With two transactions, I quickly withdrew four thousand euros from my Swiss account, which still had a balance of around two million dollars. I stuffed the cash in my pocket and headed to the desk. Michelle was speaking to the clerk in French, which sounded incredibly sexy. The clerks nametag, I noticed, read Lucia. I also noticed that she was rather attractive herself, and I figured that if things did not work out with What type of room did you have in mind, Craig? Michelle asked me. I asked Lucia, Do you have a room available with a view of the Basilica? She checked her computer and let me know, in English, Yes sir, and those are premium rooms, which are quite comfortable. Thats what I want, I told her, and then handed her three one hundred euro notes. This is for you to keep, Lucia, for yourself. I explained, Im paying cash and have no identification. Is that okay? I gazed into her pretty eyes and my sixth sense told me that she would go for it. She looked at me for a moment, then glanced at the three hundred euros. Thats not a problem, sir. See? Anyway, I paid for a couple of days and was offered a glass of chilled champagne, which I accepted. When our check-in was finished, I discretely handed Michelle a folded stack of bills, about two thousand euros. Whats this? Thats for your expenses. They have a spa here that you might enjoy, and a gym. She glanced at the wad for a moment. Thank you, Craig, but this is really not necessary. I have Dont worry about it, I insisted. First and foremost I want you to be safe, but I also want you to be comfortable while youre here. Okay?
She shrugged and dropped the bills into her purse, then turned to me. I saw you looking at Lucia. Do you think shes pretty? How did she spot that? Who? Oh, the clerk? I turned to look back at the desk, then lied, Honestly, Michelle, I didnt even notice her. She studied me for a moment, then let me know, You can come up and have a quick look at the room if you like. I was hoping she would say exactly that. I relieved the valet of Michelles luggage, tipped him, and followed her to the elevator. After we got in, she cleared her throat, and I thought I heard her softly say, This is one of the places where Id like to get laid. Uhwhat did you say? I said, This is one of the nicest places Ive ever stayed. Oh. Yeah, its beautiful. I hope you dont think Im the kind of woman that brings men to her room. She turned to me and asked, You dont think that of me, do you? Of course not. She made no reply to that, so I took the opportunity to lie further, I hope you dont think Im scheming to get you in bed, either. I just find you attractive and enjoy being with you. Youre probably lying, she said, but since you paid for the room, which was quite generous by the way, I just thought youd like to have a look. The view must be magnificent. Im sure it is. She seemed to be in thought for a moment and then asked me, You arent married, are you? No. She glanced at my ring finger. My wedding band, of course, was gone, but the skin where the ring had been still looked pale. Are you sure? I wouldnt lie to you about that, Michelle. Im a widower.
Oh. I could tell she was about to say something like the usual Im sorry, or maybe ask about what happened, but she stopped herself. She did, however, look at me in a subtle way that told me I might be one step closer, which was good. This was my current mission within a mission and I was sure the President would approve. He seemed like that kind of guy. She and I soon arrived at the room, and I think we were both impressed. The dcor featured modern furnishings, a cool-looking glassed-in bathroom, and huge close-up gallery prints of Michelangelos Sistine Chapel paintings. From the balcony, we could see the dome of the great basilica nearby as well as the hotels immense private gardens below, which seemed like an oasis in the midst of the great city. The sun was beginning to peek out from behind the clouds and it was turning into a beautiful day in more ways than one. This place is beautiful, she said. Thank you. I smiled and nodded. Now, how about that lunch you promised me? Im famished. The sun is coming out, I told her, and it looks like a nice day. I know a decent courtyard bistro that we could walk to from here. I think youd enjoy it. Right now, Craig, I could eat out of a trough. Lets go. From the hotel, we crossed the street and headed through sunlit roads paved with old porphyry stones until we reached Via della Conciliazione, the main thoroughfare which leads directly into Saint Paters Square. Our destination, La Veranda, was located to our right, and I escorted Michelle into the lobby. After being welcomed by the matre d', I requested a table for two in the grand courtyard and we were escorted there. Our table was located under a shade tree and covered by and a wide umbrella and also positioned near a running fountain. After being seated, Michelle removed her sunglasses, revealing her lovely green eyes. She took a look around. This is beautiful. How did you know about this place?
Its pretty famous, I told her, though it isnt. In truth, my late wife had discovered La Veranda, and she and I had shared a memorable candlelit dinner here. This was during our one trip to Romethough I wasnt going to tell Michelle about that. I had mourned Jessica long enough, and I thought coming here would be a mentally healthy way for me to put final closure on that relationship. Plus, I wanted to impress Michelle. After a few minutes, our waiter arrived wearing a white long sleeve shirt and black dress pants. He handed each of us a large menu and set out a basket of warm bread, letting us know that it was from the Roscioli bakery, wherever that is. Michelle nibbled at some of that while we both decided on the same entrees: a brandade of cod and mixed salad, followed by a course of simple risotto with seafood. I also ordered a bottle of something called Est! Est! Est! Falesco 2018 for no other reason than that it had an interesting name. It has been my experience that by the third glass they all start to taste like fermented grapes anyway. The sun was fully out and it was beginning to warm up, though Michelle and I were not about to take off our jackets. I noticed a few wintering birds, warblers mostly, flying from tree to tree. They were watching us in hopes that we would drop some crumbs of Roscioli bread on the ground, or maybe our wallets. The waiter soon delivered our wine and poured us each an ounce. Michelle studied it while swirling it around in her glass for a moment to stir the bouquet. She then smelled it deeply before tasting. She did this so naturally that I could tell she understood a few things about etiquette. This also told me she might be slightly out of my league, though I felt I could fake it enough to get by. Maybe, if I was lucky, she preferred men who were a little rough around the edges. At the moment, I was an escaped convict, a fugitive with a fake passport, and I was carrying a concealed, loaded, and unlicensed semi-automatic weapon. All that, I figured, made me about as rough-edged as you get. Michelle took another sip and asked, What kind of agent did you say you were?
Actually, I couldnt remember what lie I had told her, so I replied, Im the kind of agent who believes your story, and wants to be sure youre kept safe. She seemed to doubt that. Are you a secret agent? I let out a laugh. A secret agent? No, of course not. I took a quick sip of wine and changed subjects, Tell me about your career as a model. That sounds more fascinating than what I do. She smiled at my evasion. I dont know about fascinating, but do I enjoy traveling. Modeling provides that. I swirled my wine around in its glass and told her, A famous person once said, I love to travel. Its a way of meeting new people, learning new cultures, and opening the gates of new cities. Who was that? Genghis Khan. She laughed at that and continued, Modeling has been a lot of fun, I admit, and Im fortunate to have made many friends and to have been successful in a difficult industry. She took another sniff of her wine, then added, But Im also fortunate to know when its time to get out. I nodded. Tell me more about Nigel Adams. Im wonderingwhy did you continue working for him? She turned away for a moment and appeared to be in deep thought. She then looked back at me and answered that, He was a man full of hopes and promises and I suppose I was nave. I believed him, which was foolish of me. I was determined to get out of modeling and I wanted a career with more Future? She nodded at that, then looked at me and confided, I was also afraid. Afraid of what? She drew a breath and told me, The more I knew him, the more I realized he could make trouble for people if he wanted to. She leaned back in her chair and explained, He was always cordial with me, of
course, but I listened to how he spoke to others and I knew he could threaten people and use extortion tactics if he chose to. She added, He could have ruined me, professionally, or made it hard for me to get a visa, or Or worse, right? She looked at me and nodded, though subtly. At that moment, our waiter arrived with our first course. After he had set out our meal and left, I poured some more wine into our glasses. In a low voice, I told Michelle, One last thing and we can change subjects She was about to grab a fork, but stopped herself and smiled at me politely. I continued, Youve been dealing with some dangerous people, Michelle. I want you to stay off the grid for a while. That means no phone calls, no computers, no Facebook or Tweetsnone of that, okay? She looked into my eyes and held my hand for a moment, which I was not expecting. She then leaned close and whispered, Thank you for protecting me, Craig. I feel safe with you. As we looked into each others eyes, I felt a faint connection, and I was sure she did, too. I gave her hand a squeeze, kissed it, then smiled and let her know, Now, Miss Fontaine, you may eat your lunch. She laughed. While she and I enjoyed our meal, I took a moment to ask, So, what part of New York City are you from? Gracefully, she dabbed her mouth with her napkin and replied, I have an apartment on the upper east side. Its on Lexington and 46 th . Nice. She nodded at that and added, My agency provides it. Lucky you. Thats close to Grand Central Station, right? She seemed surprised at that. Yes, actually, its only a block away. Have you lived in the city?
I shook my head. No. Ive just been here and there. A bit of everywhere, I suppose. She looked at me as if in doubt. Youre going to be a hard one to figure out, Craig. Well, she was right about that. By the end of lunch, I realized that we had drank the whole bottle of Est! Est! Est! whatever, and my head was spinning slightly. I thanked our waiter as I paid our bill in cash and left him a decent tip. Maybe too decent. Once outside, I spotted a street vendor, an elderly woman peddling flowers from a bucket. As we passed by her, I slid a stack of euro coins into her hand and selected a red rose. Grazie, the woman said to me with an almost toothless smile. I handed the rose to Michelle, who smelled it. Mmm. Thank you, Craig. How nice. Im glad you like it. Do you mind if I hold your hand while we walk? Is that for the purpose of my protection? I nodded. Partly. She thought about it. I dont even know your last name. Van Essen. She looked at me, then held her hand out and asked, Am I safe with you, Mr. Van Essen? She probably wasnt, but I didnt want to scare her off. I wont let anything bad happen to you, if thats what youre wondering. Im trusting you. Well, I appreciated that, though I knew better than to trust myself. We walked hand in hand for a while and soon arrived at the same narrow road we had taken on the way here. A group of children were now playing in the street, kicking a soccer ball back and forth. As we approached, the ball rolled past one of them and was coming straight toward Michelle. As she stopped, I put my foot forward in front of her,
caught the ball with toe of my shoe, then flipped it into the air and landed it into my hands. As I returned the ball to the children, I turned to Michelle and mentioned, See how I protect you? My hero. Now I know Im safe. We both smiled at that, then continued our walk through the quaint streets of old Rome. We spent time chatting about things and making small talk, which was a good way for us to get to know each other. As we walked, Michelle asked, So, how many times have you been to Rome? Just once before. She paused for a moment but could not resist asking, Were you with someone then, or? I was here with my wife and daughter. She stopped walking. Oh I looked at Michelle and let her know, My daughter, Chandis, and her mother were both killed last year. They died within minutes of each other in the Tokyo earthquake. During the Olympics? I nodded. Oh my. I just Its all right, I told her, and then took a moment to explain, Ill always miss them, of course, but its been over five months. At this point, Ive decided Im done with mourning and am now ready to go on with my life. She looked at me for a second, and then gave me a warm hug. After that, we continued walking, though it became noticeably quieter. Part of me was wishing I had waited to tell her about Jessica and Chandis, while the other part was glad it was out in the open. Before long, we found our way back to the hotel gardens and we decided to stroll amongst the beautifully landscaped flowers and trees for a few minutes. I pointed out a group of sparrows I saw drinking
water from one of the fountains, and we watched them for a minute or so. From there, we walked further into the garden and soon came upon a life-size modern sculpture depicting a nude couple in embrace. It was a beautiful work of art, I thought, or maybe it was just the feeling of romance in the air. I noticed the woman in the figure appeared to be leaning back, almost as though attempting to avoid the mans advances. If you look at it, Michelle observed, its almost like hes attacking her, It looks that way, but if you look closely you can see shes wearing a smileand nothing else. Like, she wants him, but doesnt want to be too? I nodded. Thats what it looks like. She studied the sculpture for another moment, then told me, Hold me like that for a minuteso I can see how it feels. Well, I liked where this was going. All right. But well have to take our clothes off to get the full effect. She giggled at that one, either due to the wine or because I am so charming and witty. She then moved closer and I held her in my arms and leaned her back. As I did so, I bent forward and kissed her gently on the cheek. After that, I lifted her so we were upright again and asked, How did that feel? It was okay, she answered, but you were rightwell have to try it with our clothes off. See why I love art? Well need to go someplace where we can be alone. I agree. She pointed to the fountain behind me. I feel like those guys are watching us. I turned to see a line of sparrows at the fountain and they were all looking straight at us. Those little perverts. She smiled at my comment, then glanced over at the hotel and appeared to be in thought.
I dont want to impose on you, I told her, which, of course, was a lie. I can take a cab back to my apartment, if you You could do that, she said, or you could just follow me. She smiled and touched the rose to my cheek. But do whatever you like. At that, she leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth, then turned and headed in the direction of the hotel. I watched her for a moment as she strutted away. My head was spinning even more at this point and it seemed as though the temperature had suddenly become warmer. Though it may have been a stretch, I decided right then that learning more about Michelle Fontaine was a new and essential element of my mission. Also, as an experienced agent and spy I knew how important it was to always follow every lead wherever it may take you. I followed her to the hotel.
Chapter 10
Ive come to learn that real men desire only two things: danger and toys. For this reason, they usually seek after women, which are, in all certainty, the most dangerous playthings of all. I entered the hotel and spotted the desk clerk, Lucia, as she crossed the lobby. Now that she was out from behind her desk I could see she was not quite as trim and attractive as I had originally thought. Or maybe I was comparing her to Michelle. Anyway, she noticed me and seemed to tell I was in a hurry. Is everything all right, Mr. Van Essen? I smiled and nodded to her as I continued walking. Just then, a thought came to me and I stopped and asked, Who do I see about having some champagne sent up to Miss Fontaines room? She smiled. I think I can take care of that for you. Any particular champagne? Better make it the good stuffon iceand pronto. I turned and hurried to the elevator. I was a man on a mission. Literally. Once upstairs, I went to Michelles door and knocked. Who is it? In jest, I replied, I have a special delivery package for a Michelle Fontaine. As I spoke, the door across the hall opened and a young couple began to step out of their room, each of them wheeling a small suitcase behind them. Michelle replied, Im looking through the peephole and I dont see a package. I turned and smiled politely at the couple, then told Michelle, You cant see it from the peephole. Let me in and Ill show it to you. Whatever it is, it must be very small.
Apparently, the young couple must have understood English as I heard both of them giggle under their breath while they headed down the hall. Its notlook, just let me in, okay? I tapped on the door again and told her, I ordered champagne for us. Chilled? Yes. Now open the door. After a few seconds I heard the door click. As it began to open, I pushed my way in. Once inside, I decided to take a chance and act the role of the tough guy. I smiled in a way that shed know I was playing, then quickly grabbed her by the scarf around her neck and forced her up against a wall. As the door closed behind us, I stared into her eyes for a moment, then looked at her lips and began to kiss them while my grip loosed from her scarf. I moved my hand down her back and forced her waist close to mine. I could tell she was still unsure if I was angry with her or just playing around. In fact, she was probably thinking about calling security. I can have that effect on women. After a few minutes, I removed my jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. Michelle stepped over to me and we embraced again. I thought about being gentler with her, but since things were going the way I wanted, I stuck with being rough. With one hand I grasped the hair at the back of her head and ran my nails across her neck while we kissed. She seemed to respond well to that, so I pushed her up against a side table and sat her on top of it as I leaned over her. You seem very rough, she told me. Maybe I shouldnt have opened the door. She was right about that. Perhaps I shouldnt have invited you up to my room, either. I hardly know you. She was right about that, too. She looked into my eyes. But I can tell that youd never hurt anyone.
Well, two out of three wasnt bad. I was wearing my holster and soon noticed her fingers running over the knurled grips of my handgun while we kissed. I whispered into her ear, The gun and holster Im wearingthey turn you on, dont they? She did not reply verbally to that, but looked at me in an impish way that answered the question. After a moment she pushed me back, then stood from the side table and asked, What about what Im wearing?she gestured to her clothesIs this a turn on for you? I looked her over. Nope. I dont like it. You dont? What is it you dont like? I pointed to her scarf. To start with, I dont like that thing. She slowly unwrapped it from her neck and tossed it over the foot of the bed. That was easy. I pointed to her vest. I dont like that, either. She slipped out of the vest and smiled at me in a sexy way before dropping it to the floor. I wondered how far I could go with this. The dress has to go. She smiled again while I watched her reach behind herself and pulled down the zipper. She then slowly removed her arms from the sleeves and then slid the dress over her hips in an extremely seductive way before dropping it to the floor and kicking it aside. I was really enjoying this. What about my bra? she asked. It was a beautiful black lacy thing with bright red silk sown into it and, honestly, the nicest looking bra I had ever seen on a woman. I hate it. A few seconds later, that was on the floor, too. She stood before me wearing only expensive-looking black lace panties and high heels. I had never seen a woman more beautiful, and I knew this would be a night to remember. Well, afternoon, anyway. My heart felt like a drum beating hard in my chest. I was breathing pretty hard, too. In fact, everything seemed pretty hard, including
What about my shoes? she asked. I looked at her strappy high heels while she stood there, posing for me like a model. Actually, she was a model. The shoes, I thought, were sexy and made her long legs appear even longer. I like those, I said, so I guess they can stay. Just then, there was a knock on the door and I told her, I think our champagne just arrived. You take care of that, she said as she stepped into the bathroom. I checked the peephole, then quickly removed my gun and holster and set them aside before opening the door. The smiling delivery guy wheeled in a small cart with two fluted glasses, a covered tray of hors d'oeuvres, and, of course, the champagne, which was nestled in a bucket of crushed ice. I tipped him and pushed him out the door. Michelle heard the bottle pop open and came out of the bathroom. She was dressed apropos, in my opinion, still wearing only her black panties and heels. She stood for me while the golden light radiating from the window and blinds cast shadows which rolled over the curves of her body. She watched me while I poured champagne and said, You can be nice when you want. I handed her the champagne. She took a small sip and then set the glass down. Noticing my shoulder holster was missing, she mentioned, I see youre unarmed. I stepped close to her and ran my fingers down the side of her neck and over the top of her shoulder. I let her know, I always carry more than one weapon. She smiled at that and glanced down. I see that youre pointing it at me. She kissed my neck, then asked, Are you planning to be rough? Well, I didnt really have a detailed plan, but I nodded. She drew herself closer and whispered into my ear, Be nice. I wasnt sure whether she meant for me to be nice, which I could do, or if being rough would be nice, so I asked, You want me to be gentle?
She looked at me and nodded, then put her lips close to mine. Almost at once, we melted into each others arms and began to kiss. My hands ran over the skin of her back, which felt like satin to touch. I held her even closer and could tell she liked being naked in the arms of a fully clothed man, but that wasnt going to last much longer. I stepped back for a moment and began unbuttoning my shirt. Help me with these, I told her, gesturing to the rest of the buttons. She smiled coyly and grabbed me by the belt, which she began to unbuckle. As I removed my shirt and threw it aside, my pants fell to the floor. Wasting no time, I kicked those aside and quickly took off my socks and underwear. We then held each other again. Holding Michelle in my arms and kissing her was beautiful, but after a few minutes of that I felt we were ready for the next step in our relationship. At least I was. I picked her up and held her in my arms, then carried her to the bed. With one arm, I yanked the sheets aside and then lowered her onto the mattress. I then climbed in next to her and began kissing the side of her face, then her neck, and then, of course, her breasts. As I did this, my right hand began to remove her panties and she helped me by lowering them the rest of the way and then off. Michelle had a thing for concealed weapons. She soon found mine and began playing with it while I continued caressing her. After a minute or so, I couldnt wait anymore and found myself positioned on top of her. As we made love, I noticed that my senses becoming heightened and more selective. While all my aches and pains seemed to vanish, other things were becoming more noticeable, such as the fragrance of her perfume, which I liked. I also became aware of a soft amber light now filling the room from the lowering sun. I noticed her subtle gasps as I moved within her as well as the silky feel of her hair as I held her head in my hand. I was only faintly aware of the heels of her shoes as they occasionally dug into my back. She heard me wince and asked, Did I hurt you? I didnt want to complain, so I grinned and replied, Right now, Michelle, you could hit me with a crowbar and I wouldnt feel it.
She glanced around for a moment as though she was looking for a crowbar, then relaxed again. After a few minutes, I felt her muscles begin to tighten. After gasping for a few breaths of air, she began kissing my face until I was finished, too. Mission accomplished. Both of us were breathing hard and we took a minute to allow our brains to restart. As I rested my head on her chest I could hear her heart pounding and noticed her skin was wet with sweat. Once we had caught our breath, I repositioned myself beside her and she turned to face me, smiling. The sun was now low in the sky, and the reddish light glowed through the window and cast itself subtly upon her pretty skin. I looked at her body for a long moment, then her face, and soon found myself gazing again into her jade-green eyes. What had just happened between us, I knew, was somehow special, and I had a feeling in my heart that this was just the beginning. I was hoping she felt that way too.
Chapter 11
I think sex is an important, beautiful, and integral part of life. Its at the very core of the human experience and one of our most basic and primal connections with nature. And I always go along with nature. Michelle and I spent the next hour or so talking while lying in bed, and I managed to do most of the listening while she did most of the talking. This worked well for me since I was more interested in her than myself and I was curious to learn all I could about this woman. Also, almost everything I would say about me would have to be a lie. Its not an ethical dilemma or anything; I just have a hard time remembering which version of what bullshit I told who, and it can be exhausting trying to keep track of it all. I need to come up with a system. After a while she asked me, Isnt your team going to wonder what happened to you? Right now, my entire team consisted of one person: Paige ONeill, who was probably only wondering whether I had gotten laid or not. Theyll survive without me for a few hours, I told Michelle. Ill just explain that I had to pin down a witness. She giggled at that and asked, Shouldnt you call your supervisor or something? Id like you to stay here with me, but I dont want you to get in trouble. I dont actually have a direct supervisor, I told her, which was true if you dont count the President of the United States. Most of the team, including myself, arent carrying phones or using computers on this mission. I took the opportunity to tell her, You need to take the same precautions. The moment you use your phone or check your email or glance at a social media sitetheyll be able to locate you. Whos they? They are the people youre involved with, Michelle, including the person you gave the message to. These are dangerous people, and I want to protect you from them.
She seemed to think about that for a moment. How do I know they werent trying to protect me from you? Perhaps youre the dangerous one. She had a point there, however convoluted, so to settle the issue I rolled on top of her and held her wrists down firmly on the mattress. Youre right, I said. I am dangerous and I want to hurt you. I think you just want to fuck me again. Maybe. Definitely. If I open my legs will you promise not to hurt me? I kissed her and smiled. Ill make no such promise. * * * After we had finished round two, I felt dehydrated and vitamin depleted. I pulled myself to my feet and brought the tray of hors d'oeuvres and the champagne to the bed. Once she and I had refueled ourselves with fluids and vital nutrients, we both passed out.
Chapter 12
Thursday, January 28, 2021
At around 5:00 a.m., I woke up fully rested and full of vim and vigor, though I could see that Michelle was still out cold. Quietly, I scooted out of the bed and grabbed my clothes, then took a pad of stationary from the desk and stepped into the bathroom where I wrote her a brief message:
Miss Fontaine, You looked so comfortable that I could not bring myself to wake you. Ive gone to check in at work and hope to return soon. In the meantime, remember to be careful and keep a low profile. I look forward to seeing you again and hearing your pretty voice. Amore, Craig
Confident that I was the only Craig she knew, I left the note next to the sink. I then dressed myself and slithered out the front door without a peep. At the front desk I ordered a cab, which arrived quickly. Fifty euros and ten minutes later I was back at my apartment where I found Paige asleep in my bed. Normally this would be a no-no, but since I hadnt been home there was no reason for her to sleep on the couch. At least she hadnt dragged some guy from the Piazza to the apartment. I could tell that Paige was a bit on the promiscuous side. But then, who was I to judge, right? I was craving a cappuccino, so I headed back downstairs and went straight to the caf across from my apartment, which was already open for business. It was still dark, and I noticed the full moon was low in
the western sky and casting an eerie white light over the small square fronting the caf. I ordered one cappuccino for myself and one to go for my team, who I intended to wake up soon. Outside the caf, I sat at a table and looked up at the stars in the sky, contemplating things while sipping my drink. I thought about Michelle Fontaine and hoped that she wouldnt be hurt that I had left without saying goodbye. For her own safety, I thought, it might be best if she headed back to the states. Hopefully, Id be able to meet up with her again over there. I also thought about young Paige ONeill, and wondered if I was putting her in danger by involving her as my assistant. I considered sending her on her way, too. Finally, I thought about Bjorn Gundersen, and wondered what was in the message he had received from Michelle. The next part of my mission would be to find out what I could about that. I finished my cappuccino, which hit the spot, then went back upstairs to the apartment. Once there, I made no effort to be quiet. After removing my jacket and holster I went to the bedroom. As I entered, I saw Paige crack one eye open and glance over at me. In a groggy voice she mumbled, Sorry, but I couldnt sleep on that awful couch. Its okay, I said. Here, I brought you a cappuccino. She opened her eye again as I approached with the drink. At that, she sat up in the bed and allowed the bed sheet to fall, revealing her small bare breasts. I let her know, Youre supposed to be my professional assistant, so you need to cover up. Paige pulled the sheet back over her chest and shrugged. She then took the drink from my hands and asked, So, did you get what you were after? Uhwhat do you mean? Like, did you fuck her?
I gave her a stern look. Look, Paige, lets get this straight from the start: were not to involve ourselves or comment on each others personal lives in any way, okay? Lets keep it professional. Paige took a sip of the drink and muttered, Then you did fuck her. She looked up at me and shrugged, then added, Thats my professional opinion. I sat at the foot of the bed and tried to remember, for the life of me, why I had hired this girl. Just then, I heard a loud knock at the door. I stood and told Paige, Get dressed, quick, and whoever this is: dont say anythingespecially about the girl. Quietly, I went to the door. Through the peephole, I could see it was Bjorn Gundersen and I let him in at once. As Bjorn entered, he removed his scarf and unzipped his jacket as though he planned to be here for a while. Right away he looked at me and asked, Did you find the girl? I spoke with her for a moment or two, I replied, but she managed to slip away. Soshes gone? I nodded. Did she know what was in the message? She swore to me that she was instructed only to deliver the note and the phone. She said she had no idea who you were or what the message was aboutand I believed her. I added, I have an idea, though, who might have put her up to it. As I spoke, Bjorn heard a noise from the bedroom and peered around the corner just in time to see Paiges breasts as she pulled a sweater over her head. He then turned to me and grinned. Now that wed both had a good look at Paiges tits, I closed the bedroom door and asked Bjorn, What did the message actually say? You seemed troubled about it, to say the least. He sat himself on the couch and I took a chair facing him. He then rubbed his forehead for a moment and explained, I know the location of certainassets. Assets that the Skilja would like to get their hands
on. He looked at me and added, Tjuren, their leader, is demanding that I provide him the location of these items. Have you tried to contact him? He shook his head. No. That would be too dangerous right now. He leaned back on the couch and explained, He and I had an agreement: that we would destroy everything to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. I hesitated, but then took a shot, What is it you were going to destroy? He studied me for a moment, then replied, It would be better, my friend, that you never know. I nodded, though I disagreed. Just then, the bedroom door opened and Paige stepped out. I didnt want her to be in on this conversation so I asked, Could you do us a favor and run to the caf for a couple of coffees? I held out a fifty euro note. She grabbed the bill and winked at me. Sure thing, Mr. Van Essen. At that, she put on her coat and went out the door. Bjorn and I smiled at that and then went back to conversing. I asked him, Whatever the assets are, why dont you just destroy them yourself? I fully intend to, he replied. He then looked at me with remorseful eyes and confided, I should have done so when I had the chance, before I wound up in Oberwald. In fact, I regret that I ever created such a monstrous Just then, the cell phone in his pocket chimed and he pulled it out. As he read the incoming text message, he stood from the couch and appeared suddenly filled with rage. He squeezed the phone in his hand as he reread the message and I saw his face turning red. The bastards! he yelled. What is it?
He looked at me. They have my sister, Ella. He glanced at the text again and explained, almost in disbelief, They are holding her until I tell them the location. Shes been kidnapped? He seemed not to hear me and muttered to himself, I will kill him for this. He then held the phone up for me to see and replied, Shes being held hostage, and they are giving me twenty-four hours to comply with their demands. I didnt bother to ask Or what? but I had a fairly good idea.
Chapter 13
After reading the text message again, Bjorn looked like he was going to crush the phone in his hand. Suddenly, it rang, startling both of us. Bjorn looked at me, and I nodded. Reluctantly, he answered the call. He listened for a moment before asking, Ella? Is that you? He then began speaking in Swedish. I could tell it was his sister on the line, and Bjorn appeared frustrated and concerned as he spoke. After about thirty seconds, the call ended while Bjorn was mid-sentence. Bjorn appeared distraught and looked at his phone for a moment before turning to me. They have Ella, he said, and she is here, in Italy. Where? In Rome? She told me they lured her into coming here to see me, but when she arrived in Rome she was met by a man who took her somewhere north of hereand now she is being held captive. He looked away and added, She sounded terrified. He was about to throw the phone across the room when I yelled, Wait! He held himself from throwing it and looked back at me. We might need that to find them, I said, and then made a suggestion, For your sisters sake, maybe you should just tell them where the items are hidden. He seemed to consider that for a brief moment, but then shook his head. No. Never. I decided to take a chance and offered, If you tell me the location, Ill go and destroywhatever it is. He drew a breath and looked me in the eye. Im sorry, my friend, but I can trust no one with that knowledge, save myself. Besides, the bastards might not release poor Ella if they learned that we did such a thing.
So far, Bjorn had confided that he alone knew the location of certain assets, and that they were not only something that he regretted creating, but also something monstrous. Apparently, Mark Westfall and his friends at the White House had been right about the Skilja all along. Unfortunately, they didnt know enough about Bjorn Gundersen. Tjuren, obviously, was the Skiljas leader, while Bjorn, it turns out, was probably the brains of the organization. From what I could tell, he was the creative force behind the group and, if my suspicions were correct, he may have come up with a way to initiate an earthquake. I thought about all this for a moment, then told Bjorn, I might know the identity of the man that your sister met here in Rome. Who is it? Bjorn demanded. Tell me, so I can kill him after Ive cut his nuts off. I studied Bjorn for a few seconds and could easily picture him doing that. I let him know, Yesterday, when I questioned the woman, she described the man who sent her to give you the message and the phone. According to her, the mans name was Nigel. Bjorn seemed surprised by that and sat back down. I continued, She described Nigel as tall, about six-foot, Caucasian, and around my age. She also mentioned that he had short hair, a bit of a hook nose, and a Brit accent. That sounds like our friend from Oberwaldthat prick. He thought for a moment and then asked, How would he have escaped? Perhaps Nigel has the same friends we have, I replied. And maybe hes working for your brother-in-law, Tjuren. Bjorns face grew redder now, and I could see a vein bulging on his forehead. When I find Nigel, he muttered, I will slit his throat and feed him to the dogs. He seemed to ponder the situation for a moment, then stood and told me, Grab your gun and holster. We have a friend to visit. Well, I had a good idea who that might be: our soon-to-be ex-friend Axel Thorsen.
As Bjorn and I hurried out of the apartment, we passed my soon-to- be ex-assistant, Paige, as she headed up the stairs with our coffees. To her credit, she said nothing as we rushed by, which told me she had the capacity to know when to shut upunlike some women I have known. This mission was becoming too dangerous to have her around and I planned to send her packing as soon as I got back. The second we stepped out of the building, Bjorn began heading east. As we walked along at a fast pace, I said to him, I assume were heading to Axels apartment. We are, he replied. And you can also assume that hell be surprised to see us. I nodded in agreement as we continued heading east. Bjorn, I could tell, was in no mood for chit-chat and I wondered what he had in mind for poor Axel. Whatever it was, I was sure the kid would soon be wishing he had left us in Oberwald and was back home in Sweden. I had packed my handgun per Bjorns suggestion, plus Id had a nice cappuccino earlierso I was ready for practically anything. As far as I was concerned, I was happy to be involved with anyone or anything that had to do with the assets, and the sooner I located them, the sooner this mission would be over. If my suspicions were correct and it all had something to do with a machine or device that could start an earthquakelike the one that leveled much of Tokyo last summerthen locating all the devices and putting the Skilja behind bars would accomplish several goals: For one, the death of my wife and daughter would be avenged, as well as the hundreds of others that died with them. Besides that, finding and destroying the devices would prevent future terrorist plots, which was the only real purpose for such a thing. I felt sure that if I played my cards right everything would fall into my hands, God willing. Ahead, the predawn light began to slowly brighten the sky as the stars faded one by one into the day. As we walked past the Pantheon, I broke the silence by asking, Sowhats our plan for when we get there? He continued walking in silence for a moment or two before he finally answered, I just hope the little fucker is still there. He then
glanced at me and mentioned, Axel has a handgun, so well need to take possession of that right away. I nodded. And then? And then well negotiate with his father. As I thought about things, it occurred to me that Bjorn might try to take Axel hostage. That would be the most effective way to negotiate a trade for his sister and was probably the course of action I would take in such a situation. We had an advantage, of course, since Tjuren was unaware that the two of us knew the location of Axels apartment. After another ten minutes or so, we reached Via Torino and went straight to the apartment. Bjorn pounded loudly on the door several times before we heard a voice from inside. What? Who is it? Its us, Bjorn replied. Open the door, Axel. A long moment passed until we finally heard the lock click. As soon as the door began to open, Bjorn pushed it the rest of the way and we both walked in. Bjorn looked at Axel, who wed obviously woken up, and asked, Are you alone? Is anyone else here? Its just me here, Axel replied as he rubbed his eyes. How did you know where I? Never mind that, Bjorn interrupted. Where is your gun? Quickly! Axels eyes turned and glanced in the direction of his bedroom. I have it hidden. Why do you? Before he could finish, I headed straight to the bedroom where I found his gun, a Glock 9 mm, hidden in the first place I looked: under his pillow. As I came out of the room I held the weapon out for Bjorn to see. He turned to Axel and asked, Do you have any other weapons? Axel seemed confused by all this, but managed to answer, No. All I have is the handgun. Why? Whats wrong?
Something urgent has come up, Bjorn said. I need you to contact your father for meright now. Axel appeared surprised. He hesitated, then told Bjorn, Its too early. Hes still asleep, Im sure. He glanced at me, noticing his gun in my hand as I slid the safety lever back and forth. Whats so urgent that it cant? You will contact Tjuren right now! Bjorn demanded. And dont argue with me again or I will cut your tongue out. Axel seemed shocked by that and his face flushed as he stepped back. His eyes then began to dart around the room as I moved closer to the door, which was the only exit. Finally, he went to a small desk where he sat and turned on his tablet. His fingers were trembling as he worked the touchscreen. I asked Axel, How do you know that your communication wont be traced? Without looking from the screen he informed me, This is going through three dummy computers on two continents. It would be almost impossible to traceeven for an expert. Bjorn peered over Axels shoulder as the young man video-phoned his father, Amol Thorsen, a.k.a. Tjuren. After a minute, the call was answered and I saw the image of an older, bearded man as he appeared on the screen. Axel and Tjuren looked at each other for a moment before Axel finally spoke. God morgon, he said to his father. Good morning. Indeed, Tjuren replied. Where are you? Axel let him know, Im at my apartment in Rome. Do you realize what time it is? Bjorn stooped down so Tjuren could see him on his screen and then told him, Its time you and I had a talk, Amol. Tjuren was obviously surprised. Bjorn. What are you doing there? Bjorn turned to me and reached out his hand for Axels gun, which I gave to him. Tjuren watched in horror as Bjorn placed the barrel of
the gun against Axels head. I came here to blow your sons brains out, thats what Im doing here. Stop! Tjuren cried. Are you mad? Take the gun away from his head at once. Why are you? Ill count to five, my friend, and if you dont tell me where you have Ella, Ill pull the trigger. He began counting, One. Your sister? Ella? I have no idea Two. Bjorn, please, I dont know where Ella is. You must believe me. Three. Stop! For Gods sake, Bjorn, put the gun down and explain yourself! Four. I watched as tears began to run down from Tjurens eyes, and also Axels. Tjuren begged Bjorn, Please, Bjornnot my son! Oh God, please no! He took a breath and told Bjorn, Ill kill myself right here for you to see. Just dont hurt Axel, I beg you. Well, I didnt know Tjuren at all, but he seemed like he meant it. I was convinced that if he knew anything about Bjorns sister being held hostage, he would have come out with it right there. Bjorn stopped counting and demanded, Tell me about Nigel. Tjuren seemed shocked to hear that. Nigel? He pleaded, Please, Bjorn, can you just put the gun down and Ill explain everything I know. Bjorn stared into the screen for a long moment, then lowered the gun. Tjuren drew a deep sigh. Thank you Bjorn. Dont thank me yet, Amol. Bjorn grabbed a chair and sat down beside Axel. I want you to tell me everything you know about the bastard. And if you leave anything outhe waved the gun in front of the camerawell, this thing might go off and hurt someone. He glanced at Axel and then looked back at the screen.
Tjuren wiped his eyes for a moment and then began, His name is Adams. Nigel Adams. He came to me after you were arrested and convinced me that he believed in our cause. And you believed him? He was veryconvincing, and he Tell me you did not take him into the fold, Bjorn said. Slowly, Tjurens eyes looked down. ImIm afraid I did, my friend. Then you are a fool. Tjuren nodded and continued, Nigel told me he had important connections in England and Scotland and elsewhere. He knew important people who believed what you and I believe. He convinced me and the others that he could Describe him to me, Bjorn demanded. Heswell, hes from London. Hes tall, I suppose, and has a large nose like a hawk. Bjorn glanced back at me for a moment and we both nodded. He then turned back to Tjuren. Did you tell him about my invention, Amol? Please, I pray that no one knows He knew already, Tjuren explained. When he came to me, he seemed to know all about the devices, and about you. He then began to add, He also seemed to know about what wed done Im not alone here, Bjorn interrupted. I brought Van Essen with me and hes right here, so be careful what you say. Van Essen? What is he doing there? Ill ask the questions, Bjorn replied firmly. Tell me, how did Nigel escape from Oberwald? Did you help him? Tjuren seemed confused. Oberwald? I dont know anything about that. Was he there? He was, Bjorn replied, and now the son-of-a-bitch is in Italy, which brings me to the topic of my sister
Tjuren assured Bjorn, I told you, my friend, and you must believe me, I know nothing about my dear Ella except that I havent seen her for some time. If you had been a decent husband, Amol, perhaps she Please, Bjorn, Tjuren pleaded, dont open old wounds especially in front of Axel. Right now I need to know why you are asking about her. Tell me what is going on so I can help. Bjorn paused for a moment and then asked, Did you send Ella to Rome to see me? No, of course not. Why do you? Then it was your friend Nigel that lured her here. To Rome? For what reason? Bjorn exhaled slowly and replied, Im afraid he wants the location of the devices, Amol, and to force my hand hes taken Ella as a hostage. Right now, to my knowledge, theyre somewhere north of Just then, the phone in Bjorns pocket began to ring. He pulled it out and looked at the screen for a moment. After the forth ring, he turned to me as he answered the call and asked, Who is this? Bjorn stood from his chair as he listened to the caller before he asked, Is this Nigel? As the caller replied, Bjorn made eye contact with me and nodded. He then told Nigel, If you harm one hair on her head, you bastard, Ill cut your tiny balls off and feed them to you before He stopped speaking and listened for a long moment until the call ended. As Bjorn slid the phone back into his pocket I asked, Where is he? From the tablet, I heard Tjurens voice asking, Who was it, Bjorn? Was it Nigel? Bjorn stepped into the cameras view and looked at Tjuren. It was him, Bjorn replied, and he has poor Ella. Tjuren, I could tell, was concerned and seemed unsure what to say. Finally, he told Bjorn, Im sorry, my friend. Ill do whatever it takes to help you get her back.
Bjorn snorted. Youve already screwed things up enough, havent you? Im sorry, I Bjorn stooped down close to the screen. And you should be sorry, you imbecile. He then put his face even closer and told Tjuren, If anything happens to Ella, I promise Ill slit your throat after youve watched me strangle your son. Please, Bjorn, dont And this, Bjorn said, is for bringing Nigel Adams upon us. At that, he swung the back of his powerful hand against the side of Axels head, sending him flying out of his chair and sprawling across the floor. Quickly, Bjorn grabbed the tablet and aimed it down at Axel, allowing Tjuren to see his son laying on the floor, trembling and in tears as a trickle of blood ran from the side of his mouth. Bjorn then dropped the tablet and stormed out of the apartment.
Chapter 14
I left poor Axel lying on the floor, bleeding, and hurried to catch up with Bjorn, who was marching at a fast pace. I walked alongside him and decided to hold off on questions until hed had time to cool off. Within minutes, the two of us arrived at a bus stop just as a city bus pulled up. We were the only ones there, and Bjorn signaled the driver to go on. As the bus pulled away, Bjorn turned to me and said, These bastards dont realize what theyre dealing with. I liked where he was going with this, so I kept my mouth shut and waited for more. Bjorn seemed deep in thought for a while, then turned to me again and mentioned, Our friend Nigel will pay for this with his lifeand will get nothing from me. Finally, I spoke up, Im here to help, Bjorn, if you need me. He studied me for a moment and sighed deeply. Right now, he confided, you may be the only one I can trust. Am I good or what? He continued, Nigel has demanded that I meet him tonight at midnight. Wheres the meeting place? In the village of Manarola, which I believe isperhaps three hours north of here by train. That sounded familiar. I asked, Manarola is one of the Cinque Terre villages, right? He nodded. Nigel demands that I arrive on the train connecting from La Spezia at 11:12 p.m.and no earlier. I knew that the Cinque Terre, or Five Lands, consisted of five coastal villages located along a rugged but scenic portion of the Italian Riviera, and La Spezia was the city nearest them.
Bjorn looked at me. I would ask you to join me, my friend, but Im afraid it will be too dangerous for Im going. Bjorn seemed to think about that for a few seconds, then grinned as he patted me on the shoulder. Right then, from the corner of my eye, I spotted movement on the street behind us. I turned just in time to see a young woman as she ducked behind a staircase. Paige. Bjorn could tell that Id seen something and turned. What is it? he asked. Is it Axel? I shook my head. Are we being followed? I thought I saw At that moment, Paige peered out from behind the stairs. Bjorn saw her too and said to me, It appears your little girlfriend has been keeping tabs on you. It appears so. I sighed heavily as I waved to Paige, signaling her to come join us. Why would she be following us? That was a good question. Shes just an innocent girl, I told him, an American, and she had nowhere to stay. Soshe chose to stay with you? I nodded. As Paige began walking toward us, I thought about letting Bjorn believe that she and I were lovers. Can she be trusted? I shrugged. I think so, but I dont want her involved in any of Of course not, Bjorn said. As Paige approached us and stopped, I asked her, Did you think we werent going to see you?
She shrugged and played dumb. I dont know. Why were you following us? Well, you guys left in a hurry. I guess I wanted to see what was so important. Bjorn and I glanced at each other for a moment and I told him, This exquisite young lady is Paige, who Im sure you remember from my apartment. Paige smiled at the compliment. Its good to see you again, Bjorn told her as he shook her hand gently. You shouldnt follow people like that, not without their knowing. The smile left Paiges face. Im sorry. Bjorn looked into her eyes for a moment and asked, Who do you work for? Paige seemed unsure how to answer that, but finally told him, I dont work for anyone, Mister. Why do you ask? Bjorn studied her again. I have trust issues. Join the club, honey. Paige patted him playfully on the arm. I dont trust you, either. At that, the two of them looked into each others eyes for a long moment. Finally, a grin spread over both their faces as they began to accept each other for what they were: total strangers with nothing in common. Paige asked, So, where are you guys headed, anyway? I glanced over at Bjorn who told her, It would be better, young lady, if you dont know too much about us. Well, you dont have to worry about that. I dont even know your name. Bjorn forced a smile. Lets keep it that way. Just then, another bus pulled up and Bjorn told me, I think we should head back to your apartment and put together a plan.
At that, the three of us climbed in and sat near the front, and Paige cozied up close to me. She whispered into my ear and asked, Do you really think Im exquisite? I whispered back, Lets keep it professional, okay? This is just an act. She gave me a wink and kissed me on the cheek. Bjorn noticed her PDA and laughed under his breath. The bus took us west along the same route Bjorn and I had taken on Thursday. We again passed Piazza Venezia and the Wedding Cake before reaching the large church where we turned north. Minutes later, we arrived at our stop where we got off the bus. From there, we walked through a maze of narrow streets until we reached my apartment on Via della Posta Vecchia. Once upstairs, Paige headed to the micro-bathroom to shower while Bjorn and I seated ourselves in the living room. It was still early, about eight a.m., though it felt later than that. Bjorn let out a breath and told me, I need to find a way to rescue Ella without putting her in danger. He looked over at me. Any ideas? I thought about that and told him, One of us should go ahead on an earlier train and report back on the situation. I asked, Did Nigel tell you where the meeting would take place? He did. I am to arrive at Manarola by train at 11:12. From there, I am to take the coastal trail heading to Riomaggiore, which is the next village to the south. He assured me that by midnight we would meet. Bjorn sat forward in his chair and asked me, Why do you think he picked such a strange location? Its the perfect spot. During the day the trails connecting the Cinque Terra villages are filled with tourists. At midnight, however, no one would be around, and Nigel would be able to see you approaching from a good distance. Im sure hell be taking every precaution. He will be, I agreed. Nigel knows that one side of the trail consists of a steep vertical wall with impossible terrain, while the other
side is a steep cliff dropping straight into the Mediterranean. There will be no police or surveillance around and no way for you to escape. I see. Bjorn rested his head in his hands for a moment. I added, Nigel will probably enter the trail at Riomaggiore and head toward Manarola, meeting you in the middle as you come from the other direction. Just then, Paige appeared from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Im done, she informed us and headed to the bedroom. Bjorn looked up to see her and then asked me, Perhaps the girl should go there ahead of us to check things out. She could I dont want her involved, I told him. Bjorn reminded me, She already is involved. Not really. She knows nothing. Shes just a Who knows what she may have overheard while we were inside Axels apartment, right? No. He ignored that and continued, Besides, were not asking her to do anything dangerous. Well just put her on the noon train from Roma Termini and ask to report what she sees on the trail. Whats wrong with that? From the bedroom, Paige emerged still wrapped in a towel. She looked at me and asked, Yeah. Whats wrong with that? She then turned to Bjorn and asked, You want me to go where? Bjorn looked at me and took my silence as a cue to proceed. We are thinking of sending you on a train to check out a location for us. When do I leave? Go get dressed, he told her, and close that door. I dont want you listening in on us, understand? Paige sneered at that and spun around, then headed to the bedroom and shut the door firmly. Bjorn and I smiled at that and he told me, Im sorry about that.
Its okay, but why dont I just go ahead and take the train there now? I can report back to you if I see anything unusual. He shook his head. Im sure Nigel will be armed, and he wont be alone in this. Well need to make things even. I want you on that train with me, my friend, and youll be armed. As I thought about that, he added, If you think this will be too dangerous for you, I can Im going, I said. If it werent for you, Id be at Oberwald eating borscht for the next ten years. He smiled. If they let you live that long. At that moment, Paige stepped out of the bedroom fully dressed and brushing her hair. I wasnt listening this time, she told us. Did I miss anything? Bjorn and I glanced at each other for a second. I then turned to Paige and explained, We have a small favor to ask of you, and its okay if you say no. Were thinking of sending you on the noon train from here to a small village called Riomaggiore, about three or four hours north of here. She shrugged. Sounds okay with me. Whats in Riomaggiore? Ill explain the details later but we may need you to check out a walking trail connecting that village and a neighboring one called Manarola. Bjorn spoke up, Well let you know what to look for, and if you see anythinghe held up his cellI want you to text me. Paige looked at the phone. Is that the phone the messenger lady gave you yesterday? It is. Why do you ask? Paige stepped over and took the phone from Bjorn. She turned it over and looked at the back of it for a moment, then pressed the sides carefully and popped the rear panel off. What are you doing? Bjorn demanded. If you break that, I wont be able to
Dont get your panties all in a twist, Paige told him. I know what Im doing. That didnt make it through the translation channels too well, so Bjorn looked at me. Just give her a minute, I told him. She isnt going to break anything. Right, Paige? Paige smirked and commented, You guys have, like, serious trust issues, dont you? She then turned to Bjorn and held out the phone while pointing to the battery. See this? Bjorn looked. Thats the battery. The top parts the battery, she told him. Whats that thing connected to the bottom of it? While Bjorn studied the phone, I got up to take a look. Attached along the lower section of the battery was a small device made of clear plastic. It also had a thin wire coming out of it that wrapped around part of the battery housing. I knew at once what it was, but I let Paige explain. Its a friggin homing beacon, Paige told Bjorn. Whoever gave you this phone wants to keep tabs on you. He shook his head in disgust. It seems everyone does. After studying the tiny device for another moment, he asked her, How did you know this? How did you know to look? My mom works in the court system, Paige explained. People on parole are sometimes given phones like and have to carry them everywhere. This way, their officer can keep track of where theyve been, when they were there, and for how long. Plus they can call the parolee on it at anytime. Bjorn considered that for a moment, then told her, Remove that damned thing and flush it down the toilet, or just Before you do that, I said, maybe we can use it to our advantage. How is that?
I turned and asked Paige. These things are also tracking transmitters, right? Right. And whoever planted it wont be looking for a pretty young girl to be carrying it, will they? Paige smiled and then asked, Whos they? Never mind that. I turned to Bjorn and continued, We can replace the battery in the phone with a regular one and send Paige to Manarola with this. He considered that and asked, How will that help us? I pointed to the tiny device. These things work by crowdsourcing; sending a ping to other similar phones that come near it. That way, whoever planted this thing will be able to determine its approximate whereabouts on a map. Bjorn seemed to understand this and asked, And what if there are no similar phones near it? Then they can use a directional antenna to locate the phones tracking transmitter. Paige seemed confused and asked, How does that work? A directional antenna, or radio direction finder can be used to determine where a radio signal is originating. In this case, someone could use such a device to find where this transmission is coming from. I added, If someone is using a directional antenna, youll be able to tell. How would I tell? Well, theyll be carrying a small device, which you probably wont notice, but you wont be able to miss the big H-shaped antenna connected to it. She thought about that. So, what if I spot someone walking around with one of those? Then youd shut off your transmitter.
To that Bjorn added, And try to follow that personthis time without being seen. I considered that and nodded in agreement. Just dont put yourself in danger, I said, and remember, Paige, you do not have to do this. Im going, she replied. She looked at Bjorn and me for a moment before asking, Are these people you guys are dealing with, like, dangerous or something? I looked her in the eye. Extremely. Bjorn told her, Its very risky, and perhaps youre too young for I said Im going, Paige insisted. I just want to know what Ill be dealing with when I get there. We dont really know, I told her. At that, Bjorn stood and turned to Paige. He seemed to be searching for the right words for a moment, then finally told her, My dear girl; it is true. We dont know what to expect. He smiled, then placed his hand on her shoulder and added, That is why we are sending you first.
Chapter 15
To her left, the light of the afternoon sun shimmered brilliantly over the sea as the train continued its way up the Mediterranean coast. Paige ONeill looked into her makeup mirror for a moment, then leaned back in her first class seat and rested her tired eyes. So far, the trip had been uneventful but still pleasant. No one was seated next to her, which she liked, and the steward had brought her a small bottle of wine to go with her lunchand hadnt asked to check her id. Things wouldnt be so comfortable once she reached the Cinque Terre, she knew, but for now she was enjoying herself. As she relaxed, Paige thought about her new friend and boss, Craig Van Essen. She wasnt sure, but she figured he was probably some kind of spy or intelligence agent. She was attracted to him despite their obvious age difference, and wished she had been able to seduce him like other men shed encountered. Nonetheless, she respected him for resisting her numerous flirtations, including her climbing in bed with him. She also thought about Craigs mysterious friend, who seemed somewhat angry and distraught. He was a foreigner, she could tell, and an intelligent, powerful man, but she was glad that she knew little about himand was intent to keep it that way, at least for now. In fact, she appreciated that neither Craig nor his friend had revealed much about what they were involved in or what exactly was going to take place tonight in the small village of Manarola. The less I know, she thought, the better. As she considered these things, she felt the train begin to slow down. Soon, it came to a stop at a large station. A sign outside told her that this was the city of Pisa, which she knew was the home of the famous leaning tower. A number of passengers disembarked here while only one person, a young man, got on. As he entered and walked up the aisle of her section, Paige took the opportunity to look him over. She guessed he was about thirty or so, and noticed that he was tall and had rugged handsome features. She hoped he would ask to sit next to her.
If nothing else, she thought, at least Id have someone to talk to. The man walked to the front of the car, then turned back. At her aisle, he stopped and gestured to the seat beside her. E 'questo posto? Uhwhat? He switched to English. Is this seat taken? Oh. No, it isnt. Pleasesit down. Thanks. Paige nodded. The man smiled politely, then directed his attention to his tablet as he began to read. My name is Paige, by the way. He turned to her. Im Jay, he said, then focused back on his tablet. So much for someone to talk to, she thought. Soon, the train started moving again and passed slowly over a wide river, then picked up speed. Paige looked out the window for a few minutes, then leaned her seat all the way back and let herself relax. Later, she awoke as the train began coming to a stop and was surprised to find that she had dozed off. The steward gestured to her, letting her know this was La Spezia, her stop. Jay had already grabbed his things and was headed for the exit. Paige yawned and stretched for a moment, then removed her backpack from under her seat. After that, she put on her jacket and hat and headed out. As she exited the train, she made her way through the crowds of tourists, many of whom were in groups. She saw Jay walk ahead to the regional train depot and figured, like herself, hed be taking the short ride to one of the Cinque Terre villages. Paige stood back from the tracks and took a look around. The clock at the station told her it was 3:27 p.m. Behind her, she saw a young couple with backpacks photographing themselves using their cell phone. She noticed two men in blue uniforms who were busy carting
boxes of freight from the train to a nearby truck. Ahead, she saw a tour guide leading his small group in the direction of the depot. As the tour group moved on, Paige spotted a young man leaning against a wall. He was wearing a worn brown leather jacket with its sleeves cut off to show off his tattooed arms. His spiked black hair was shaved short on the sides and he was wearing sunglasses. She looked closer and could tell he was staring down at a small handheld device and seemed to be aiming it from one direction to another. While Paige began walking toward him, he pointed the device in her direction and looked up at her for a moment. It was then that she noticed the large H-shaped antenna and knew at once what it was: a radio direction finderand he had it locked on her signal. Discretely, Paige reached into her pocket and felt around until she located the small transmitter that shed removed from Craigs partners cellphone. She slid the transmitters micro-switch to the off position. After that, she took a moment to check her makeup with her small mirror and began heading toward the young man. At first, he was focused on the indicator screen of the device and hadnt noticed Paige as she walked up and stood next to him. Hello? He was startled by that and looked up at her. Paige smiled warmly. Hey, I like your jacket. He smiled. She wondered if he understood English. Do you have a cigarette? she asked. Im dying for a smoke. He shook his head. I dont smoke, but they sell cigarettes inside the station. He gestured to the building behind him. She noticed an accent and asked, You sound like youre from England. London. She nodded as she brushed her hair back with her hand. They wont sell cigarettes to me, she told him. I guess you have to be twenty-one to buy smokes in Italy.
He looked at her for a moment and explained, Id buy you some, but I need to keep an eye on this thing. He pointed to the device. What is that? Its, uha cell phone reception finder, he replied. I work for the phone company. She knew that he was lying, but smiled and told him, Ill watch it for you while you go to the store for me, okay? At that she pulled out her wallet and held out a twenty euro note. He held up his hand, refusing the money. Its okay, Ill buy. He handed her the device and instructed her, Just point this at the train and watch to see if the red light comes on. All right? Paige smiled. I think I can handle that. Umokay. Ill be right back. She smiled. Whats your name, anyway? They call me Logan. Thanks, Logan. As he stepped through the door of the station, Paige turned and watched him through the front window as he headed toward the sundries store inside. Once hed gone far enough, she quickly folded and lowered the large antenna. She then began walking away from the main station and toward the regional train depot. After a few steps, she broke into a run. She reached the train in a matter of seconds, then ducked into a line of tourists who were waiting to board. Just as she was about to enter the train car, she turned and saw Logan running in her direction. Quickly, Paige pushed past two woman and made her way to the front of the car. The two women and some others yelled in anger at her, but she ignored that and moved forward to the next car. From his seat, Jay watched as Paige ran down the aisle. He could see she was out of breath and seemed to be running from someone. As Paige ducked into a lavatory, Jay stood and turned to see Logan as he stepped onto the train. He could see that Logan was winded too, and was apparently looking for Paige.
Jay stepped to the front of the car and stood outside the lavatory while Logan searched the train car. In desperation, Logan called out to the passengers, Did anyone see a young girl come running in here? Anyone? The two women whod been pushed aside directed his attention to the forward car, and he quickly made his way there. He began checking each seat and all the luggage closets until he arrived at the lavatory where Jay stood. Anyone in there? Logan asked Jay. Im looking for a thieving little bitch who just stole something from me. Thats my wife in there, Jay told him. Now get the hell out of here. Your wife, eh? Whats she look like? Jay stepped forward and looked down at Logan, who took a step back. Its none of your business what she looks like, Jay said. Now get out of here before I break your face. Logan turned and looked at the other passengers for a moment as if considering his options. He then turned and headed away, continuing to search through the rest of the car until the train was about to pull out. Finally, he stepped to the door and held up his middle finger at Jay and shouted, Fuck you, asshole. At that, Jay began to head toward him just as he jumped off and ran away. Before Jay reached the door, it automatically closed and the train began moving forward. He let out a breath and smiled at the other passengers, all of whom seemed to be staring at him in awe. As the train picked up speed, he went to the door of the lavatory and knocked. Its okay, Paige. Hes gone. A moment later, she opened the door and peered out to see Jay. Its you! she said, smiling. I was wondering who my hero was. She then stood on her toes and gave him a kiss. Thank you, Jay. At that, all the passengers in the car broke into applause. Embarrassed, Paige followed Jay to his seat and sat next to him.
After a moment, Jay turned to Paige and asked, What was with that guy anyway? What did he want with you? She shook her head. If I told you, you wouldnt believe me. Try me. All right, here goes. She looked into his eyes and told him, Im a spy. Jay seemed to consider that for a second and then laughed. Yeah, right. Paige shrugged. I knew you wouldnt believe me. She then asked him, What about you? Whats your story? Im on vacation. By yourself? Thats pathetic, isnt it? Whats with that? He shook his head. If I told you, you wouldnt believe me. Paige smiled. Shut up and tell me. He hesitated for a moment and then confided, I was traveling with my girlfriend until yesterday. What happened? She ditched me. Why? Well, she met another guy while we were in Rome, and Its okay, Paige said. At least everything worked out. He looked at her. What do you mean? Well, you found me, didnt you? Jay laughed at that. He then looked at her for a moment and asked, How old are you, Paige? She reached over and slapped his shoulder. Why does everyone think they need to ask me that? Uh Im old enough to make you forget all about your dimwit ex- girlfriend. Hows that?
He laughed again. Howd you know she was a dimwit? Duh! She left you didnt she? She then changed subjects and asked, Which one of the Cinque Terre villages are you going to? Tell me its Riomaggiore. Jay shrugged. Im not sure yet, but I was thinking about Get off at Riomaggiore with me. I need to check the coastal trail between there and Manarola. Check it for what? Its spy stuff. Just hang with me, okay? I need a body guard. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, Ill make it worth your while. At that, she smiled coyly as she rubbed his arm for a moment and then put her hand in his.
Chapter 16
Paige and Jay chatted for a few minutes, then got off at the first Cinque Terra village, Riomaggiore. From there, they headed straight for the coastal trail. This place is beautiful, Paige said, observing the colorful old houses built one on top of the other against the steep coastal mountains. She squeezed Jays hand and let him know, Im glad you came with me. Did I have a choice? Paige slapped him on the shoulder, then pointed ahead. Theres the trail. Via dell Amore. The Way of Love, he translated. After climbing a set of stairs, they rounded a turn where they saw the Mediterranean glimmering before them. Look at that, Paige said. Its so blue, isnt it? Jay nodded in agreement, then looked at Paige and grinned. Im almost glad I came. Playfully, she slapped him on the arm again. You dont know how lucky you are. She took him by the hand again and they proceeded along the trail. What are we looking for, anywayif I may ask? No, you may not ask, Paige replied. But since you did, my job is just to report anything suspicious. Like what? A nuclear bomb or a? Let me worry about that. Your job is to be my bodyguardand bodyguards dont ask too many questions. Who do you supposedly work for? The CIA or something? Paige stopped walking and looked up at him. That sounded suspiciously like another question. Sorry.
Give me your cell phone. Okay, boss. Jay pulled out his phone and handed it to her. Who are you calling? She tapped on the screen for a moment and then told him, Headquaters. You mean? Langley. He laughed. At this point, Jay wasnt sure whether Paige was serious or not, and wasnt sure whether he wanted to know. As Bjorn answered, Paige looked over at Jay and held her finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. Are you there yet? Bjorn asked her. Im on the trail between Riomaggiore and Manarola right now. Good. I see you found a new battery for your phone. Yes. What have you found so far? There were other people, mostly tourists, walking the trail. Paige glanced around to be sure no one could hear, then told Bjorn, I found one of those radio things with the big antenna you guys told me about. Where did you see it? Last time I saw it, it was in my backpack. What? How did you? Never mind that. The important thing is that people are already looking for youand I think thats a bad sign, right? Bjorn made no reply. Paige continued, Im heading to Manarola now, and Ill call again if I see anything else. She then thought for a moment and asked, Hows Mr. Van Essen? Hes fine. Why?
I just wanted to be sure you havent poisoned him or something. You have issues, remember? Bjorn let out a laugh. My dear girl, right now you and Mr. Van Essen are the only two people in the world I feel I can trust. Good. Keep it that way. Again, Bjorn made no reply, so she told him, Its almost five oclock. Ill contact you again at seven sharp unless I have something to report in the meantime. Thank you, Paige, and be careful. Of course, she replied. Im just a tourist, right? What could happen? Bjorn laughed again and ended the call. After that, Paige took a moment to delete the call record from the phone and set the alarm to sound at seven. She then entered some more information into the phone and handed it back to Jay. Everything all right back in Virginia? Paige thought she detected a hint of sarcasm in his question, but replied, Just the usual spy stuff that youre not supposed to ask aboutbodyguard. Jay laughed under his breath. Sorry. After that, the two continued walking north while taking time to admire the scenic beauty around them. Soon, they arrived at a place where a rest stop was being constructed at the side of the trail. There, Paige and Jay stopped and stood at an overlook positioned atop a sheer cliff. They looked out at the rocky coastline and crystalline waters of the Italian Riviera to the west, and the jagged mountainside with countless small terraced vineyards to the east. I love this place, Paige commented. Jay took a deep breath of fresh air and agreed, It is beautiful. Paige put her arms around Jays neck and looked up at him. I dont know your last name. Cavanagh, he replied. Its Jay Cavanagh.
How about me, Mr. Cavanagh? Do you think Im beautiful, too? He gazed into her pretty brown eyes for a long moment and reached his arm around her thin waist. You are, he told her. He then pulled her close and kissed her lips. Just then, a neatly dressed young man approached them. He said to Jay in a loud voice, Excuse me, sir, but I need to talk to this girl. Jay released Paige and turned to the man. Who the hell are you, and what do you want? The man ignored that and pulled a cell phone from his jacket. As Jay moved toward him, the man stepped back and spoke into the phone, Logan, listen, its Finn. I think I found the girl. At that, he held the phone up and pointed the camera at Paige. Logan was on the other end of the call and saw Paige on his screen. Thats her! he shouted. Thats the little bitch! Finn looked up at Jay, who stood several inches over him and told him, Step aside. I need to search that girls backpack. Understand? Youre not searching anything, Jay told him, and if you dont like that, Ill break your jaw. He moved further forward and added, Understand? Finn tried taking a step to the right, but Jay blocked him. Get out of my way, bud, or Ill In a blur of motion, Jay landed his fist solidly into Finns jaw with a quick right jab. Finn fell back and onto the ground, but scrambled to his feet after retrieving a short knife, a dagger, from a sheath on his leg. Finn rubbed his jaw for a few seconds, then jumped at Jay and swung the knife at his face. Before he could react, Jay felt the blade of the dagger slice above his right eye. By then, a small crowd of tourists had gathered, and a few of them screamed as they saw a thin stream of blood run down over Jays face. While Jay held his hand over the gash, Fin lunged forward again, this time swinging the knife toward Jays waist. Jay moved quickly and dodged the attempt, then swung his leg firmly into Finns groin.
Finn dropped to his knees for a moment in obvious pain. After a few seconds, however, a fresh dose of adrenaline hit him and he managed to leap to his feet again, swinging wildly at Jay. Jay stood between the attacker and Paige, who had her back to the rail and a rocky hundred foot drop behind that. Finn swung forward again and yelled to Paige, Just toss me the backpack, you little thief! Toss it to me and Ill let you go! Paige pulled the backpack from her shoulders and threw it to him. While keeping one eye on Jay, Finn bent down to check the contents. Just then, Paige heard a dull thunk. She looked to see that Finn had fallen forward and seemed to be lying unconscious beside her backpack. Behind Finn was an older woman proudly holding a piece of wood from the construction site. Run! the woman told Paige and Jay. Get out of here before he wakes up. Jay looked at Paige in amazement, and then turned to the woman. Thanks, maam. She waived the board and smiled widely. Dont mention it. Quickly, Jay knelt beside Finn and took the knife from his hand. He also saw his cell phone on the ground and grabbed that too, along with the backpack. He then looked up at Paige. Oh baby, Paige said to him, youre cut pretty badand bleeding! Dont worry. Ill get it stitched up later. He glanced back at Finn, who seemed to be waking up. Right now, I think we need to get out of here. The group of tourists stepped aside as he and Paige darted from the scene and headed back down the trail in the same direction theyd come. After a minute or so, they slowed to a fast walk. As he caught his breath, Jay held up the dagger for a moment and prepared to toss it into the sea.
Wait! Paige cried. We might need that. Jay stopped himself and handed the knife to Paige. This is a rather dangerous job you have. She nodded. Is it always like this? I dont know, she replied as she slid the blade into her backpack. This is only my second day.
Chapter 17
A dazzling full moon hung like an ancient lantern in the night sky. I looked down to see my shadow casting itself sharply upon the walkway which seemed to glow in the silvery light. Just as Nigel Adams had instructed, Bjorn and I had arrived at the village of Manarola on the 11:15 train. We were now heading from the station to the rendezvous point, which was somewhere on the walking trail connecting Manarola with the next Cinque Terre village, Riomaggiore. As we arrived at the trailhead, we found a sign posted across the entrance between two traffic cones, indicating that the trail was closed. As he kicked the cones and the sign aside, Bjorn turned to me and mentioned, This is Nigels work, no doubt, to make certain we are alone. Im sure there is a similar sign on the other end as well. As we began walking, a frigid gust blew in from the sea, chilling us. I zipped my jacket all the way to my neck and saw Bjorn do the same. Soon, we encountered a descending stairway and I felt the cold steel barrel of my handgun slapping against my crotch. I expected that Nigel would not be working alone tonight, and that he knew enough to have us searched when we arrived. From my experience, guys dont usually check another guys private parts too carefully in a pat-down. In fact, I was counting on it. I was also hoping they wouldnt find the dagger tucked into the sock on my right inner ankle, either. My assistant, Paige, had come across the thing and had enough foresight to leave it hidden for Bjorn and me to find at the train stop in Riomaggiore. Arriving at a meeting like this while carrying two weapons would be a gamble, I knew, but I also knew it might help level the playing field if we pulled it off. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, Bjorns phone rang. He looked at the screen and let me know, Its your girlfriend. In a low voice he answered the phone. Have you seen anything?
Bjorn listened to Paige for a moment, then told her, Youve done well, young lady, and were thankful. Now, I want you to get out of here as quickly as possible. He listened again for a moment, and I heard him tell her, Good. Stay with him for now and dont let anyone see you until you head to the train station tomorrow. Before ending the call, he added, And dont call this phone again. Bjorn stopped to erase the call record and let me know, I think your girlfriend may have found a new lover. Well, that didnt surprise me one bit. What else did she say? She said she spotted a woman being escorted by three men, and they entered the trail from the other end. Was it your sister? She said she couldnt see the womans face. I thought about that and asked, Where was Paige calling from? He began walking again and told me, She and her new boyfriend found a room for the night. He glanced back at me and added, She said she is nursing a knife wound he received earlier. She was probably nursing more than that, I thought. As we walked along in silence, I took a moment to try to mentally put everything into perspective. I actually learned this practice during my CIA training, but I never really tried it until now. The main objective in my mission, of course, was to find out who, if anyone, had the blueprints for a device that could artificially initiate an earthquakelike the earthquake that killed my wife and daughter in Tokyo. So far, it seemed that Bjorn Gundersen might be that person. It also seemed that Nigel Adams, like me, was after the same thing. Obviously, he was trying to obtain the same information as meonly by using a more drastic technique. I knew that it was important to keep Bjorn alive, at least for now. Nigel and his friends, however, were dispensable. As far as I was concerned, so was Bjorns sister.
While I was contemplating all this, it occurred to me that I might not make it through tonights little get-together. To be truthful, after losing Jessica and Chandis, a small part of me was ready to go. Another part of me, however, was willing to try to start a new lifeand hopefully a life that included Michelle Fontaine, though I knew that would be asking for too much. Im not into payback, or what my old criminal science teacher referred to as the retribution cycle, but I knew one thing: if I was going down tonight, I wasnt going alone. If revenge ended up being the only card I had left to play, then I was ready to play it. As we continued along the trail, I heard the sound of footsteps and turned to see a guy following about eighty feet behind us. In the moonlight, I could tell that he had a ski mask covering his face and was dressed all in black. Somehow, he didnt strike me as a tourist. We soon rounded a curve in the trail and encountered a second guy. He was a big fellow and I could tell right away he was heavy into two sports: weightlifting and bodybuilding. Like the first guy, hed also picked all black attire for the occasion, including a ski mask. The big one held his hand up, signaling Bjorn and I to stop. We stopped. As the other guy closed in behind us, the big one turned and gave a short whistle to someone ahead on the trail, who I hoped would be our old prison buddy, Nigel. I just love reunions. Anyway, the big fellow looked at the two of us and asked, Which one of you is Bjorn? I am, Bjorn replied. He looked at me and asked Bjorn, Who the hell is this? My bodyguard, Bjorn told him. Is there a problem with that? He let that roll around in his head for a moment and I began to suspect he wasnt the sharpest tool in the shed. I guess its hard to find good help these days. He gestured to the guy behind us who gave Bjorn and me a shove. After that, he instructed us, Off with the jackets, gentlemen.
Well, it was chilly out, but Bjorn and I complied and handed over the jackets. After theyd searched them and found nothing aside from Bjorns cell phone, the big guy had an epiphany and asked, Are you guys carrying? I crossed my fingers and told him, No. This was the truth, sort of, since I wasnt actually carrying anything, so to speak. If hed asked if I had any weapons in my possession, then I would have been forced to fib. The body-builder barked an order to his partner behind us, Search him, Finn. Its always good to put a name to the face. Finn nudged me in the back and told me, Raise your hands. As I did, he started patting me down. I noticed that both these guys had Brit accents, so I guessed Nigel had brought in cheap labor from mother England. This made sense, I guess, especially considering Italys complicated labor laws. In the meantime, the big guy started frisking Bjorn, who wasnt as polite and accommodating as me, and thats when a few nasty things started happening at once. While the big guy tried to get Bjorn to raise his arms, Bjorn became impatient and told him, I dont have any weapons, you damned fool! Take me to my sisternow! He then did something unexpected and started calling out, Ella! Are you there, Ella? While that was going on, another unexpected thing occurred. As Finn was busy frisking me, he happened to run his hand all the way up my leg. Well I, for one, didnt like being fondled like that. At the same time, I doubted Finn was expecting to find a gun stuffed into my underwear, so I guess it was an equally awkward moment for both of us. Since the jig was up, I figured it was time to play my ace card. While I reached into my undies to whip out my weaponmy gun, that is Finn grabbed me and managed to pull me to the ground. In an instant, he wrapped his arm around my neck and began choking me while yelling to the big guy, Hes got a gun!
I tried thrashing from side to side, but Finns arm stayed locked around my throat. With all my strength, I managed to raise my right leg high enough to where I could grab the dagger. Quickly, I yanked it from my sock and swung the point of the blade over my shoulder and right into Finns eye. He let out a piercing scream which almost deafened my right ear. At once, he released me and held his hand to his eye. This gave me the chance to spin around and jab the blade into him again, this time into his left chest. While he gasped for air, I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him from the ground. With a little help from adrenaline, I lifted him up over the railing and pushed. I watched as he tumbled down the side of the jagged cliff to the rocky coast below. I really dont like being fondled. That done, I turned to see that the big fellow now had Bjorn in a headlock. As he turned my way, I threw the knife right at his open mouth, landing the sharp blade in the back of his throat. The shock of that caused him to release Bjorn, who wrestled out of his grip. We watched him gagging with the handle of a dagger sticking out of his mouth. Without hesitation, Bjorn slammed the knife with the back of his hand, forcing the blade through his vertebrae until the point of the blade could be seen coming out the back of his neck. At that, the big fellow dropped like a rock, though he continued twitching and jerking on the ground. Just then, Bjorn and I heard a womans voice in the distance. Bjorn! Help! As I pulled out my gun, Bjorn cautioned me, Be careful with that, my friend. He then called out, Ella! Im here! and began running in her direction. I followed behind Bjorn and saw a man step out from under a rock overhang which partially covered the trail up ahead. As he moved into the moonlight, I could see he had a gun held to a womans head and she was struggling to free herself. Stop! he shouted to us, and Bjorn and I stopped in our tracks. Bjorn called to him, Put the gun down, you bastard. Ill give you what you want.
At that, the man stepped out further until the light of the moon fell upon his face. Nigel Adams. The prick. Step back, Nigel ordered us, still holding the end of the guns silencer to Ellas head. I dont want anyone else getting Just then, the woman stooped down and thrust her elbow into Nigels stomach. I watched as he bent over in pain. Nonetheless, he managed to reach down and grab Ella by the arm. As the two wrestled, I heard the sound of a gunshot. Bjorn seemed paralyzed for a moment, then he and I watched in horror as Ella fell from Nigels arms to the ground. Nigel looked down at the woman for a moment and seemed in shock over what had just happened. He then looked at the smoking gun in his hand before his eyes raised and met with Bjorns. Oh God. ImIm sorry! Bjorn ignored the apology and began running toward him. In an instant, Nigel spun around and headed down the trail at a full sprint. I raised my gun to shoot, but Bjorns body was in the line of fire. As Bjorn reached Ella and knelt, I saw I had a clear shot. Ahead on the trail, Nigel was about to round a turn. I aimed and fired. The 9 mm bullet hit flesh, I could tell, and Nigel grabbed his buttocks and fell to the dirt. Before I could get another shot, however, he managed to jump to his feet again, then scrambled around the curve and out of sight. I ran over to where Ella lay and saw that Bjorn had placed her head onto his lap. I knelt beside her and could tell she was an attractive woman with short blonde hair and pretty facial features. She appeared to be resting, though I had a feeling she was already gone from this world. In the stark moonlight I watched her chest for signs of breathing but saw nothing. I wanted to ask Bjorn how I could help, but he seemed to be somewhat in shock, which was understandable. After a long moment, he looked away and turned Ellas head to one side for me to observe. I leaned forward to take a look, and saw right away that much of the right side of her skull was missing, as were part of her brains.
Bjorn turned her head back as it was and looked at me with eyes that seemed dead to the world. Go get that bastard, he told me, and bring me his head. We both need to leave, I told him. Come with me, Bjorn. We cant stay here with all these...uh. He seemed deep in thought for a moment, then explained, Where I am going, my friend, you cannot follow. Tears then began to fall from his eyes, and he lowered his head and began to weep. I wasnt sure just what he meant when he said that, but as an escaped fugitive I didnt think it was a good idea to stick around with all the dead bodies lying everywhere. I mean, wed have some serious explaining to do if we were caught. I walked back to where the big fellow was lying and grabbed our jackets from the railing. Just then, I looked to the north and saw a couple of flashlight beams slicing through the darkness and could make out the figures of uniformed police coming down the trail. One of the beams shined against the rock wall beside me and I ducked quickly. From there, I stayed low for a few seconds, then darted back to where Bjorn was seated with Ella. I whispered, The cops are on the way! We need to leave, like, now! Bjorn managed to pull himself together. Quickly, he gave his sister a final kiss, then set her head gently onto the ground and climbed to his feet. This way, I said in a low voice, and the two of us started running as fast as we could to the south. Apparently, I was in better running shape than Bjorn Gundersen and before long I was hundreds of feet ahead of him. Ahead to my left, I spotted a faint footpath leading off from the main trail and up the hillside. I figured there was a good chance that more cops might be headed this way from the other end, so I changed course and took off up the hill. As I reached the halfway point of the slope, I looked back and saw Gundersen. He glanced up at me for a second, then continued running along the main trail. I thought of following after him, but then caught
sight of a flashlight beam coming from behind him. I turned and sprinted the rest of the way up the hill. At the top, I found a wide concrete platform, which appeared to be part of a ventilation system for the train tunnel below. From that vantage point, I could see the trail and most things around me fairly well, though I felt it would be difficult for anyone to see me. After Id rested and caught my breath, I pulled out Bjorns phone from his jacket and entered a code to redial the last call. A man answered, and sounded like hed just woke up. Uhhello? Can I speak with Paige, please? Whos this? Her employer. There was silence for a moment before Paige came on the line, Craig? Paige, are you okay? Are you somewhere safe? I am now. How about you and your friend? Did your meeting, or whatever it was, go all right? It went better than I expected, I told her, but listen: I want you to leave for Rome in the morning. I just got here. Youll need to be on the 7:30 train, I said, and you might want to disguise yourself a bitjust to be safe. Uhall right. What about? Ill meet you at the Roma Termini station at noon. Right. Is it, like, okay if my friend comes with me? I thought about that. I guess so, but youre flying out of Rome at 2:20 p.m. I am? To where? To JFK. Youre going home. What? Why? I just
Its become far too dangerous for you to be here, Paige. I need to get you out of Italy, ASAP. She seemed concerned about that. But what about working for you? Am I still? Dont worry. Youre still employed. For how long? I thought about that. Until Im dead or you quitwhichever comes first. Well, try not to die, okay? At least for my sake. Okay. Dont quit, either. Quit? Are you kidding? I love this! I chuckled at that and asked, You didnt tell your friend about your job did you? No. Her No didnt sound too convincing. What did you tell him? You didnt let him know about He knows Im a spy. A spy? I drew an exhausted breath and reminded her, Were analysts, Paige. You cant go around telling people were spies understand? Well, he totally saved my life, like, twice. I heard her turn from the phone and say to her friend, Its my boss. He says Im an analyst and not a spy. In the background I heard her friends response. Yeah, right. I let out another long breath. Look, Paige, well talk about this on the way to the airport. In the meantime, try keeping your mouth shut. Yes, Mr. Van Essen. I paused for a moment, then told her, Ill see you at the station. In the meantime, be safe. At that, I ended the call and looked down the hill. On the trail below I now spotted two cops walking at a fast pace while searching
with their flashlights. I ducked down and crept back from the edge of the concrete. By now, of course, theyd discovered the slaughterhouse Gundersen and I had left behind and I figured it wouldnt be long before they had helicopters combing these hills. In the center of the ventilation system I spotted a thin manhole cover. I crept over to it and slowly pried it open, being careful not to make a sound. I then took a peek inside and saw a short vertical ladder descending onto what looked like a large cable tray below, with a service platform alongside it. I climbed in and pulled the cover back over the hole as I went down the ladder. There was light reflecting from the train tunnel below, and it was a lot warmer here than it was outside. Still, I was glad Id brought the jackets. I rolled Bjorns thick jacket into a makeshift pillow, then lay on the platform covering myself with mine. It would be an hour or two before the trains started rolling through and I figured it would be a good time to get some rest. I closed my eyes and pictured the lovely Michelle Fontaine and wondered if she had thought of me today. For her own protection, I had to convince her to head back to the States for a while, at least until this whole thing blew over. I then considered Nigel Adams. He was probably pretty pissed at me right now, and I would be too if someone had shot me in the ass. I wondered who he worked for, what his intensions were, and how he had found out about Bjorn Gundersens little secrets. I thought about Bjorn, too, and could only guess where he might be right now. I also wondered what he meant when he muttered, Where Im going you cannot follow. Hopefully, he wasnt going into hiding before I had the chance to find where hed hidwhatever it is hes got hidden. I also thought about my young assistant, Paige ONeill, and I was glad she had a new man in her lifeat least for one night. And that brought me back to thinking once again about Michelle Fontaine. I admit, I was intrigued by her and I couldnt keep her out of my mind. In truth, I wondered if it was too soon to start feeling that way about someone. I also wondered if it wasnt a bad idea to even start anything serious with someone right now. Id just begun working
on missions for the President, and who knows where Ill be next week, or the week after that, or if Ill even live that long. Nonetheless, I felt she was fascinating and beautiful. I wanted to see her again. I wanted to look into her eyes and hear her voice. I wanted her in my lifeand for a lot longer than just one night.
Chapter 18
Friday, January 29, 2021
To most, the stale scent of a passenger train, along with the endless rumble and rocking, can be nauseating. And Bjorn Gundersen was no exception to this. He felt exhausted, having caught only a few minutes of sleep since he left Riomaggiore. He was out of his medications and, as a result, his thinking was a bit off. His pills would calm his nerves. They would help him to control himself and behave more predictably. They would also keep him out of trouble. Now, he thought, was not the time for any damned pills. Outside, a light drizzle had begun to fall and Gundersen saw dark and ominous clouds blotting out the sun. A chill filled the air. Combined with the dampness, he could feel the cold all the way to his bones. He knew that Van Essen had grabbed his jacket, which also had his cell phone. He trusted that Craig had sense enough to destroy the items or move them as far as possible from the crime scene. He pulled a thin blanket up around his shoulders, which exposed his blood-stained pants. Looking down and seeing that, his mind went to poor Ella, who had been his only sister and his last living relative. His heart grew heavy. Soon, his thoughts turned to his three adversaries: Nigel Adams, Tjuren, and Axel Thorsen. He thought about what theyd done. He thought of how he and Ella had been both betrayed by them. He thought about what he now had to do. What theyd forced him to do. At that, his heart grew cold. They would all pay, he thought. And with their blood. He glanced over at the passenger seated across the aisle. He was an older man and appeared to be asleep. He was also wearing a wristwatch, and Gundersen could see it was almost eleven in the morning.
Just then, the old mans eyes opened and he looked at Gundersen. The man glared down at Gundersens blood stained pants and a look of disgust came over his face. Gundersen lowered the blanket over his legs and glared back with piercing eyes until the old man turned away. Minutes later, the train came to a stop at Genoas Stazione Pricipe, and Gundersen disembarked carrying only his blanket. From the train, he headed directly to a mens lavatory. There, he went to one of the sinks and tried blotting Ellas blood from his pants using the blanket and cold water from the faucet. As he worked at this, he felt his heart burning with rage. Thoughts came to him, terrible thoughts, and he tried to push them from his mind. The world will pay, he thought. After a minute or so, a young man entered the bathroom. He was in his early twenties, Gundersen observed, and tall and lanky-looking. He had on jacket, a ball cap, and a tattered backpack, and wore his long hair in a braided ponytail. The young man glanced at Gundersen as he walked past, and saw the blood stains. That time of the month, huh? he joked. Gundersen could detect an American accent. He looked up at him. What was that? That time of the month, he repeated. You know, like youre havin a period? He grinned. Whatever it is, it looks pretty gross, dude. As the young man turned and stepped toward one of the urinals, Gundersen leaped forward and grabbed him hard by his ponytail and yanked. With his ample strength, he pulled the young man backward, then gripped the front of his jacket. He then spun him around and thrust him solidly against the urinal. Do you think thats funny? Gundersen demanded. The young man was in shock, and his mouth trembled but no words came out.
What if I was covered in your blood right now? Would that be funny? ImIm sorry dude. Im just totally I could kill you right here, you sniveling bastard. I didnt mean anything negative, like Just then, another man entered the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks as he spotted Gundersen holding the young man over the urinal. He recognized the fury in Gundersens eyes and the look of terror on the young mans face. Quickly, he spun around and went back out the door. Gundersen looked back into the young mans eyes and saw his pupils narrowing. His face, he saw, had become white and his body shook with terror. Gundersen drew a deep breath, then loosened his grip and lowered the young man back to the floor. While still looking into his eyes, Gundersen told him, Forgive me. Ive had a bad day so far. Still partly in shock, the young man managed a faint smile and a stunted laugh. Just then, his smartwatch lit up and beeped. You have a phone? Gundersen asked. Give it to me. The young man looked down at his smartwatch, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. With trembling hands, he handed it over. Gundersen took the phone and ordered him, Wait right there. He then tapped at the screen a few times and placed a call. On the other end, Isak Olstrom set down a dripping ladle and answered his cell. Who the hell is this? he asked. Is that any way to greet your only friend? Gundersen asked. Its me, you old fool. Bjorn? Where are you? My God, where have you been? He told Olstrom, Im at Stazione Pricipe right now, in Genoa. I assume youre on the Agnes Ann. Am I right? Where else would I be?
And the ship is here, right? She is being loaded here at Porto di Voltri as I speak. Excellent. Is everything? I need you to drop what youre doing and come for me, Gundersen told him. Uhokay. Gundersen glanced over at the young man, then lowered his voice and told Olstrom, Ill need to be smuggled past the guards. Can you handle that? Olstrom laughed. Youre asking an old pirate if he can smuggle one man past a couple of Italians? Please, Bjorn, give me a little credit. Ill be waiting out front, Gundersen said. Tell no one I am here and be sure you are not followed. Can you tell me whats going? Ill explain everything when you get here. At that, Gundersen ended the call, then deleted the record of it from the phone. He then turned back to the young man, who hadnt budged from the spot in front of the urinal. Gundersen could see that hed wet himself during the ordeal. He pulled a couple of Euro notes from his pocket, two hundreds, and handed the bills to the young man along with his phone. Are you going to be okay? he asked. The young man nodded nervously as he grabbed the money and the phone. Can I go now? Gundersen looked him in the eye. You may go, but do me a favor. Okay, what? Dont mention a word about me to anyone. Yeah, like, no problem, man. You never saw me. Understand?
Totally. As the young man stepped past him and pushed the door to leave, Gundersen let him know, If you mention a word of this, Ill track you down and cut your throat. The young man looked at Gundersen, then nodded and darted out. Gundersen went back to cleaning the blood from his pants for another minute or so, then headed from the bathroom to the front of the large station. Once outside, he spotted a long bench positioned under an awning. There, he sat alone and waited for Isak Olstrom. As the minutes passed, Gundersen looked around and saw a few nearby shops including a liquor store, a souvenir shop, and a newsstand. After a while, he noticed himself shivering, so he stood and walked over to the liquor store. There, he went inside to warm himself until Olstrom arrived. As he wandered through the rows and shelves of bottles, his eyes fell upon a bottle of American bourbon from the state of Kentucky. This, he remembered, was his favorite poison before hed quit drinking. He thought about it for a long moment, then turned and walked away. As he reached the door, however, he thought again and went back to the shelf, grabbed the bottle, paid the young girl at the counter, and headed back outside to the bench. The drizzle had now turned to a light rain, and Gundersen felt the damp cold creeping into his bones once again. He looked around to be sure no one was watching, then reached into the paper bag and opened the bottle. Discretely, he raised the bourbon to his lips and drew a long sip. The alcohol burned his throat as it went down, and he thought it seemed much stronger than he remembered. A few sips later, he began to feel his bones warming. After what seemed to him like a long while, Isak Olstrom pulled up driving a white Nissan cargo van. Gundersen climbed in. He first adjusted the heater, then looked over at Olstrom and noticed his long beard had become greyer since hed last seen him. His hair, too, looked unkempt and his belly was hanging over his lap. You look like hell, my friend, Bjorn said. Youve aged ten years. He smiled, then handed his old friend the bottle.
Olstrom took the bottle, opened it, and drew a long swig. Its good to see you too. Gundersen made no reply. Olstrom studied the bottle. American booze? When did you start drinking again? Gundersen ignored that too and asked, What took you so long to get here? I was freezing to death. Olstrom sealed the bottle and placed it into the console, then put the gear selector in drive and pulled away from the curb. Your old partner showed up just as I was about to leave. I didnt Tjuren? Olstrom looked at him. Thats your partner, right? Hes at the ship? The Agnes Ann? Hes on board as we speak, along with his idiot son Does he know Im here? I told him nothing, Bjorn. I told no one you are here, not even the Captain. Bergstedt is still Captain, right? Olstrom nodded. Last I heardunless theres been a mutiny since I left. Gundersen thought about things while Olstrom drove. After a minute, he grabbed the bourbon from the console and took another swig. He then wiped his mouth and told Olstrom, Pull over for a moment, my friend. Olstrom pulled the van to the side of the road and stopped. Call the Captain, Gundersen told him. Tell Bergstedt to arrest Tjuren and Axel. Olstrom looked Gundersen in disbelief. What? Why? You heard me, Gundersen replied, and then explained, Tjuren is no longer to be trusted. He is now our enemyand an enemy of the Skilja.
Olstrom hesitated for a moment, then pulled out his cell phone. He looked at the face of the phone for a moment, then turned and looked again at Gundersen. Can you tell me first what is? Im afraid Tjuren has betrayed all of us, my friend. He has been playing us for fools. He pointed to his blood-stained pants. This is the blood of my poor sister. Ella? Gundersen nodded. Tjuren is responsible for her death. He leaned back in his seat and continued, He also conspired to have many of our brothers and I arrested and imprisoned. I alone escaped and must stop him before he exposes us all. He has become a monster. He handed the bottle to Olstrom. Olstrom considered what Gundersen had said and asked, Why would hewhat would make him do this? The son-ofa-bitch wants the devises. Do you mean your? Yes, Gundersen replied. They are both on board, correct? Olstrom nodded. Of course. They are exactly as you left them. Gundersen thought for a moment and commented, Tjuren is here to steal them, Im sure. Olstrom nodded in agreement. Gundersen looked at his old friend and asked, How did he know to look in the Agnes Ann? Isak Olstrom took a long swig of the bourbon, then replied, I can assure you, Bjorn, I dont know. Perhaps you should ask Tjuren that question. I intend to. Gundersen pointed at Olstroms phone and told him, Call Captain Bergstedt. Olstrom tapped at the screen for a moment, then handed the phone to Gundersen. Gundersen spoke with the Captain for a few minutes. By the end of the conversation, Captain Peter Bergstedt had assured Gundersen that
Tjuren and Axel would be placed in custody at once and held until he arrived. Dont let either of them near a phone, a computer, or anything. Do you hear me? Aye aye, Mr. Gundersen, Bergstedt replied. May I ask, sir, what? Ill explain later, Peter. Just take their things and lock them up until I arrive. There was a long pause before Peter Bergstedt finally answered, Aye aye. At that, Gundersen ended the call. What did he say? Olstrom asked. He said, Aye aye. Olstrom nodded at that, then asked, What is to become of Tjuren? He will be making a wish, I am sure. What do you mean? Gundersen turned to Olstrom and told him, He will soon wish he had never been born.
Chapter 19
Isak Olstrom arrived at the security checkpoint. He rolled down his window and waved his ID at the guards. One of the guards pulled his hood over his head and approached the van. After scanning Olstroms ID badge, he looked inside the van for a moment and asked, Where did you go? You were only gone a few minutes. I needed some kitchen supplies. Like what? the guard asked. I dont see anything up here. Olstrom pulled the half-empty bottle of bourbon from the console. I needed some cooking sherry. He smiled at the guard and offered him the bottle. Get that away from me! the guard sneered. You smell like a drunken pig. You shouldnt be driving. Let me get to my ship and I wont be driving anymore. The guard glared at him for a moment. Wait here. As he turned and walked back to the guardhouse, Olstrom heard him mutter, Filthy Swede. Olstrom watched as the first guard discussed the situation with his co-worker, and then made a call on his phone. After a minute or so, the guard returned to the van. I spoke with your Captain, a Mr. Bergstedt, and he is very unpleased. Did you tell him you were leaving the shipyard? Olstrom shook his head. Hes a busy man. So am I, the guard replied. In fact, if I had more time I would have you arrested. He leaned closer and looked into Isak Olstroms eyes. Do you know how much that would cost you? Olstrom drew a deep breath, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills. He rolled them tightly and set them inconspicuously on the edge of the door as he looked away. The guard placed his hand over the bills, then quickly pocketed them. He told Olstrom, Go straight to your ship and report to your Captainand dont let me see your face again.
Olstrom gave the guard a one-finger salute as he hit the gas and drove into the shipyard. After he was well away, he tapped on a sliding door between the seats, signaling Gundersen. After a few seconds, Gundersen slid the door open and wiggled his way out through the small opening. You stupid bastard, he told Olstrom. I couldnt breathe in thereand you had to keep taunting that damned guard. He wanted a bribe, Olstrom explained. What could I do? Gundersen crawled over the console and climbed into his seat. You could have kept your mouth shut, you old fool, he replied. You could have been arrested and Id have been stuck in here. The rest of the ride was mostly quiet. Olstrom reported to Gundersen which of the crew were trusted Skilja members and which were not. He drove slowly endless past rows of shipping containers until they finally arrived at Porto di Voltri, where the Agnes Ann was moored. Ahead, Gundersen could see the ship, a German-built 250 foot cargo vessel. Olstrom turned onto the slip, dropping Gundersen at the ships boarding ramp. There, he was met by Captain Bergstedt who escorted him aboard. Do you have them? Gundersen asked the Captain. Yes sir, Peter Bergstedt answered. We took their belongings, as you ordered, and placed them in an empty twenty-foot container. Is it locked? Bergstedt nodded. I also have a guard posted. Ill take you there now. Gundersen followed the Captain through a maze of corridors, then out to the cargo area. Once there, Bergstedt led Gundersen to a solitary container, set aside from the others. There, the Captain took a moment to introduce Gundersen to one of the ships security guards, Gustav, who was a chubby young man with narrow eyes and a dark red birthmark covering much of the left side of his face. After briefly acknowledging Gustav, Gundersen turned and asked Bergstedt in a low voice, The guardis he one of us?
Bergstedt nodded. He is. Gundersen studied the young man for a brief moment and saw that he was carrying a sidearm, a large knife, and what appeared to be a Taser. He asked Gustav, Do you know who I am, son? Uhyoure Bjorn Gundersen, and you own this ship. Gundersen nodded. Are the prisoners tied up? No, but I could Find some rope, son, and have someone help you bind their arms and legs. After that, tie them to the far wall of the container. Aye, sir. And remove their clothes. Gustav glanced over at Bergstedt for a second, who gave him a nod. He then looked back at Gundersen. Aye. And dont tell them Im here, Gundersen added. I want that to be a surprise. As Gundersen and Bergstedt stepped away, Bergstedt asked in a low voice, Can you tell me what this is about, Bjorn? The crew will soon be asking and IllIll need answers. Gundersen glanced back at the container and let Bergstedt know, This, Im afraid, is the dissolution of a partnership. He slapped the Captain on the arm and told him, Take me to my quarters. Ill explain everything tonight. The ship is leaving within the hour. Will you be sailing with us? Unless someone stops me. At that, Bierstadt took a deep breath and led him upstairs to his quarters. After having his personal items cleared from the room, he asked Gundersen, Is there anything else? Yes, Peter. What is our schedule? Our next port, that is? Lisbon, sir. Then New York. Gundersen considered that for a moment, then told him, We might have to skip Lisbon. Can that be done?
Bergstedt nodded. Its a bit late, butyes. I suppose well have to unload a few containers Do it. Aye aye. Ill also need the pad set up for the chopper. Can that be done? Bergstedt shrugged. Once were underway, I suppose. Who are you flying in? A friend of mine, if I can locate him. And Emerald? Shes not the pilot, is she? Yes, actually. Bergstedt rolled his eyes let out a breath. Please, Bjorn. You know that woman brings bad luck with her everywhere she goes. Gundersen glared at him. Of course, its your boat. Thank you for remembering that, Captain. Bergstedt opened the door and prepared to leave. Is there anything else? Ill need some clothes. Ill arrange for that. Good. Now wait outside while I clean up. Then you and I will pay the mighty Tjuren a visit. Bergstedt stepped outside, closing the door behind him. Gundersen then went over to the small bathroom where he washed his face with soap and warm water. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, then turned away, not liking what he saw. After toweling himself off, he headed out the door. He and the Captain proceeded back downstairs, walking past several crew members, some of whom made a quick salute or greeting. Soon, they arrived on the main cargo platform where Gustav and another young crewman were locking up the container. Are they tied up? Gundersen asked Gustav.
As you ordered, sir. Lets open it up and see what we have. At that, the two men unlatched the steel doors and swung them open. Inside, Bjorn could see Tjuren and Axel tied against the far wall. They had both been stripped of their clothes, and were squinting to see who it was. Behold, Gundersen called out, the great and mighty Amol Thorsenor Tjuren, as he is known. Tjuren called back, Bjorn? Is that you? It is, my old friend. Have you come to free us? These animals used a Taser Actually, Gundersen interrupted, Ill need to ask you a few questions first. Tjuren looked at him in dismay, and then pleaded, Ask me anything, Bjorn, but let my son free. Please, for the love of Quiet! Gundersen told him as he stepped closer. He could see that the years had been even harder on Amol Thorsen than himself. Tied naked to the cold steel wall, he looked weary, aged, and defeated. His usually well-trimmed beard was overgrown, as was his hair. His skin was pale as snow and Gundersen saw that his jaw trembled. He then stepped in front of young Axel Thorsen, who seemed almost in a state of shock. Gundersen drew a breath and untied Axel from the wall. He then knelt down and removed the rope from his ankles. Thank you, Bjorn, Tjuren said. Im glad someone here has their head screwed on straight. Gundersen ignored that and proceeded to untie Axels wrists. He saw that the young man was shaking from head to toe. Tjuren asked Gundersen, Please, Bjorn, whats this all about? Ill tell you what this is about, old friend. He pointed to his pants. Do you see this? Do you see all these stains?
Its too dark in here, Tjuren replied. What am I looking at? Gundersen stepped forward and grabbed Tjuren by the hair, forcing him to look down. He shouted, This, you bastard, is what is left of Ellas brains. But Bjorn, I dont Look what youve done! Im sorry. II Gundersen swung hard, striking Tjuren across the face with the back of his hand. As he did, a tooth flew from Tjurens mouth and ricocheted against the side wall. Father! Axel called out. He looked at Gundersen and begged him, Please, dont hurt Shut up, you worthless piece of shit! Gundersen yelled, pointing his finger at Axels face. Dont you utter another word! Gundersen then stepped forward and grabbed Tjuren by his beard. What did I tell you I would do if anything happened to my sister? A tear fell from Tjurens eye, followed quickly by another. Please, old friend, do what you want to me, but let my son go free. Gundersen leaned forward and whispered, We both know it is too late for that. No! No, BjornI beg you! Gundersen released his grip on Tjuren, then stepped back, positioning himself behind young Axel. Tjuren yelled to his son, Run Axel! Save yourselfquickly! Axel turned around and saw Gundersen standing behind him. Before he could move, Gundersen grabbed him by the wrist, then quickly spun Axels arm behind his back. He then locked his free arm around Axels neck, crushing his windpipe with his wrist. Tjuren screamed for his sons sake while Axel struggled, swinging his arms and legs wildly. Gundersen, however, kept his powerful arm wrenched around the young mans neck. Before long, Axels legs gave out and he dropped to his knees. Gundersen knelt behind him,
continuing his stranglehold until Axels eyes rolled back and his body went limp. After that, Gundersen stood behind Axel and gave his head a sharp twist. The repulsive sound of cracking neck bones resonated throughout the small container and seemed to echo against the steel walls. Gundersen looked up at Tjuren, who was crying out in horror, and rolled the body forward where it landed at his feet.
Chapter 20
Rome was cold, damp, windy, and drizzling. A perfect day for flying. Thats what I told Michelle, anyway. As we approached the airport security checkpoint, she leaned close and asked me, Are you going to miss me, Mr. Van Essen? I slid my hand around her waist and whispered, Ill be thinking of you with every beat of my heart. She smiled at that, then gave me a kiss on the lips. Paige rolled her eyes and commented, You guys are ridiculous, you know. Michelle and I laughed. Paige then put her arms around Jay and asked, Are you going to miss me, Mr. Cavanagh? Maybe, he joked. Once youre gone I guess Ill know. Youd better! She tapped her finger over the butterfly bandages on his right eyebrow. Ouch! Hey, that hurts. She smiled. Thats what you get. She then pulled him close and kissed him. Michelle shook her head and grinned at that, then asked me in a low voice, Where did you find her? Its a long story, I whispered back. She looked at me. The two of you were never. No. We looked into each others eyes for a long moment. She then turned and headed to the security line. Once there, she called to Paige, Cmon, well miss our flight! Jay and I stood and watched for a minute while the two women disappeared into the crowd. Jay asked me, Do you think theyll be safe?
Once theyre out of Italy, yeah. Do you have any of your people watching them on the other end? People? What people? Paige said youre some kind of secret agent or something. I laughed at that and then assured him, Im just an analyst for a security company, and Paige is my assistant. Right. And what happened in Riomaggiore was what? Analysis? I shook my head. I think Paige just has an overactive imagination. Among other things. We both chuckled at that. I turned to Jay and let him know, I appreciate what you did for Paige back at the Cinque Terre, Jay. He shrugged. It was nothing. Well, I think it was something. When Im done with this current gig, I might be contacting you. About what? About some interesting opportunities. Stuff that youd be just right for. Like secret agent stuff? I laughed again, which was becoming my trained response to that. No, but you can believe that if you like. Oh, I almost forgot. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small device. As he handed it to me, I could see it was the small transmitter Paige had removed from Bjorns cellphone, and its micro-switch was in the off position. Paige probably meant for you to have that. He smiled and added, I think she said it was from Q division. We both laughed. I slipped the device into my jacket pocket and asked, What happened to the radio direction finder?
Was it a handheld thing with a big antenna? I nodded. He gestured in the direction of the terminal. I think its on the plane. Did you need it? Nojust wondering. After that, he and I shook hands and went our separate ways. I went to the taxi stand and took a cab from the airport to my apartment. On the way there, I thought about my current situation. First and most importantly, Id managed to convince Michelle and Paige to leave Rome, at least until I could assure their safety, which at this point might be a while. Secondly, my primary leads, Bjorn and Nigel, had both disappearedone with a 9 mm bullet in his ass. I had secondary leads, namely Axel Thorsen and his father, Amol, but I had the feeling they were clueless as to the location of the devices. Nonetheless, they might be able to explain what the devices actually were. In the meantime, I decided to work from my apartment where I could try to find if Nigel had sought medical treatment anywhere and if Bjorn had been spotted or picked up by the police. The apartment was the one location where Bjorn could know to look for me, and I wouldnt be surprised if he was there right now. As far as I knew, I was still high on his list of people to trust, though that could change at any moment. The cab dropped me off near the Piazza, and I walked through the narrow streets until Id reached my apartment building. I looked around for signs of trouble. Seeing none, I went in and climbed the stairs to my unit. Once there, I drew my gun and quietly turned the lock. Quickly, I pushed the door open and followed the gun barrel through the apartment until I was sure I was alone. A little paranoia can keep you alive, while too much will keep you from having any funand also from completing your mission. I put my gun on the counter, flipped on the lights, and went straight to the fridge. I filled a plate with a few grapes, which were still fresh. Also, some olives, a piece of marinated mozzarella, a couple of pickled herring, and a dozen crackers. To go with that, I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down.
Just as I was about to pop a dripping piece of herring into my mouth, a knock came to the door. I dropped the fish onto the plate and grabbed my gun. Silently, I stepped over to the door and peered out through the peephole. Outside the door was Myrna, the stout- looking middle-aged woman from the caf across the street. As usual, she didnt look too happy, but she didnt look like trouble, either. I put the gun aside and opened the door. Are you Van Essen? I am. Myrna pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to me. I glanced at the paper, which I could see was a handwritten note. Who wrote this? I asked. I did, she replied. A man called the caf and asked me to write this and slide it under your door. I saw the light on, so I came up. Did he tell you his name? She shook her head. He said youd understand what it means. I read the message. When Id finished, I pulled a fifty note from my pocket and handed it to her. Grazie. She grabbed the bill. Prego. I closed the door and read the note again.
Mr. Van Essen, I hope I find you well, my friend. If youd like to join me for boating, head to Roma Urbe and look for SE-HEB. See you soon.
Roma Urbe, I knew, was a small airport located north of here while SE-HEB looked like aircraft registration numbers. I went to the table and wolfed down some herring with crackers, gulped the glass of wine, and tossed the rest of the food back into the fridge. I then grabbed my jacket, slipped the gun into the pocket, and hit the door.
Minutes later, I was in a Mercedes taxi heading north on Via Salaria. According to the driver, Roma Urbe was only about five miles from Piazza Navona, but it would take at least thirty minutes to get there due to the traffic. Too bad its not closer, I told him. We could just get on a plane and fly there. While the driver let that sink in, I thought about the note, which I knew had to have been from Bjorn Gundersen. The letters SE-HEB, I knew, had to be some kind of aircraft registrationespecially since Id be looking for them in an airport. SE, I thought, was probably a country code, possibly Sweden, while the letter H might stand for helicopter. Or maybe Hindenburg. What he meant by boating, I wasnt sure, but I knew Gundersen owned cargo ships. Whatever it was, I was glad to have one of my primary leads back on my radar screen. My next objective would be to find out what the devices Bjorn spoke of actually are. If they are what I think they are, Id need to find them and destroy them. In the meantime, Ill also destroy anyone that gets in my way.
Chapter 21
The driver turned left into the entrance for Roma Urbe airport and drove a few hundred feet until wed reached the runway apron. He turned and to me. Dove? Where to? Helicopters. I spun my finger and explained, You know, Chop- chop-chop? From the look on his face I could tell that didnt translate too well. Just then, I heard the sound of a helicopter above us, and the drivers face lit up. Oh, elicottero! Chop-chop-chop! I smiled at that and watched through the window as a nice maroon and black Bell 505 descended from the sky. The craft hovered over the landing pad for a moment, then set down gracefully. I paid the taxi driver and hopped out. It was cold and drizzling, so I pulled up my hood and headed toward the chopper. I walked through a row of small planes and crossed the taxiway until I was within about eighty feet of the craft. There, I stopped and waited. On the tail boom I saw tall lettering that read SE-HEB, which told me this was the right machine. I also noticed a prominent warning next to the tail rotor that read DANGER - KEEP AWAY. In retrospect, that may have been Gods way of trying to tell me something. After a moment, the pilot flashed the landing lights on and off, signaling me to approach. I lowered my head and darted to the craft, then grabbed the right- side door lever and opened the door. I looked up and was surprised to see a lady pilot, and an attractive one at that. She flipped a couple of switches on the dash, then turned to me. Craig Van Essen? I nodded. She smiled. Get inyoure letting the cold air inside! I climbed, shut the door, and buckled up. Now Im freezing! she shouted.
I shouted back, Youre the one who has the fan running! She giggled at that as she pointed to a set of headphones in front of me. Put those on! I put them on. Can you hear me? she asked. I position the microphone and answered, Loud and clear. Good. Now hang on to your butt! At that, she glanced around for a second, threw a few more switches, and hit the throttle. Immediately, we began a rapid vertical takeoff and I felt the herring in my stomach dive into deeper waters. As we ascended, I recalled something my old avionics instructor used to say: Once you are actually in flight, its too late to wonder if this was a good idea. The pilot tapped at the right tail rotor pedal until we were facing west, then gradually moved the cyclic stick forward. Once wed reached a proper altitude and speed, she relaxed in her seat and turned to me. How are we doing? I leaned over and looked around at the floor. Did you lose something? Just my spleen, I replied. Dont worry about it. I turned to her and let her know, Nice takeoff, by the way. You should think about working for NASA. She smiled. Are your landings anything like that? Yeah, only in reverse. She swept her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Im Emerald, by the way. Nice to meet you. After a moment, she adjusted the wipers, then unzipped her jacket just enough that I could see her Do you know where were going? she asked. Me? Youre the pilot. Dont you know? Bjorn didnt tell you?
Nope. But I was glad she brought up the name Bjorn. Then I guess youre in for a surprise. That would probably turn out to be an understatement. I asked, Is it raining where were headed? Not yet. It should be clear skies for a while longer. It was quiet for a while, and the sound of the turbine and the beating sound of the blades were working on me. I let out a yawn. Emerald saw this and made a suggestion, You should lean back and take a nap, sweetie. Are you sure you can fly this thing without me? She tried not to smile. Ill manage. I leaned my seat all the way back, then closed my eyes and tried to ignore the noise. Choppers have their place, of course, but Ive always preferred fixed-wing aircraft, which slice through the air as they glide along. To me, helicopters don't actually fly at allthey simply beat the air into submission. I mean, these things are really just a million parts rotating around an oil leak waiting for metal fatigue to set in. If one bolt fails, a helicopter will quickly take on the same aerodynamic properties as a common household brick. Despite all my knowledge of aviation, the laws of gravity, and bricks, I managed to nod off. As I fell into a deep sleep, I remember having a dream. If I can recall correctly, I dreamed that Id gone to an antique helicopter fly-in, only to find that nobody showed up. Or something vaguely like that. Anyway, I reopened my eyes about thirty minutes later to find that the rain had stopped and I could see sunny skies up ahead. I put on my sunglasses, then glanced down and to see a rugged landmass below us. Emerald let me know, Thats Corsica youre looking at. Yes, of Corsica. I caught her holding back a grin. I turned and asked her, Are we heading anywhere near Monte Carlo by chance?
Yeah. Why? Can we swing by one of the casinos? Im feeling lucky. Do you have any money? Nobut you strike me as a woman of means. Sorry, sweetie. Well have to put a pin in that one. She turned to me and smiled. But theres a lot of other things we can do for pleasure. Goodness. Well, I needed to change the topic so I quickly glanced over the gauges. I could see we were now heading west-by-northwest and cruising at 130 knots. I asked Emerald, Whats the range on this thing? 360 nautical miles, she replied. She looked down at the instruments for a second and let me know, We should reach our destination in about an hourjust around sunset. And where is our destination? She pointed ahead. That-a-way. Cute. She glanced over at me. Sohow do you know Bjorn, anyway? Well, we were cellmates until we escaped, but I wasnt going to tell her that. Were just acquaintances, really. What about you? She raised her eyebrow. If youre not going to tell me anything, why should I tell you? I thought about that, then decided to let her know, Bjorn and I were in prison together. We were cellmates until we broke out. She glanced at me and let out a long sigh. Wow. Wellthat explains a few things. What about you? She checked the gauges once again, then answered, I was a chopper pilot in the army until I was discharged. She looked at me and added, Dishonorably.
What did you do to be discharged? To be honest, I murdered someone. That would do it. She grinned. Actually, I murdered two people, but they only found out about one. Well, that was a weird thing to hear someone admit. You might want to keep that under your hat. Youre right, Craig. I shouldnt have said anything. She turned to me. Now Ill have to kill you, too. Im already dead inside, I told her, so it wouldnt matter. She continued, Anyway, when I got out I learned that Bjorn and his partner were looking for a chopper pilot. I told Bjorn the truth about everything, included both of the murders, and he hired me on the spot. I think he appreciates honesty. I think he just likes bad girlsand he needed someone like me to do his dirty work. She shook her head and asked me, How did we get on this topic? I just asked what the range was on this thing. You took it from there. She giggled at that as she unbuckled her seatbelt. I watched while she unzipped her jacket and removed it, then looked at me and gave me a friendly smile. She was wearing black leather biker pants, a thin strappy top, and a heavy concentration of tattoos. A woman of virtue. Emerald was no spring chicken, either, but her hills and valleys were still in all the right places. The mountains, too, from what I could see. She told me she was approaching forty, and I couldnt help wondering from what direction. The bright tattoos covered both her arms and much of her upper body, and they more than vaguely resembled a zoo from hell. Her ink collection was anything but feminine or dainty, and featured skulls, serpents, flames, and even the devil himself, who seemed to be looking straight at me with dark, evil eyes.
To stop myself from gawking I kept my eyes facing forward. To the west, the sun was now low in the sky and I could make out the coast of the fabulous French Riviera in the far distance. I didnt know my exact destination yet or what I kind of trouble I was getting myself into, but I wasnt overly worried. In my heart I knew that Chandis and Jessica were watching over me from high above. The devil and hell, however, seemed to be watching me from the next seat.
Chapter 22
Thirty minutes later, the western sky had turned from light blue to brilliant shades of orange and violet as the sun dipped into the distant horizon and shimmered over the glassy smooth Mediterranean. Just ahead, I could see the coastal lowlands and broad sandy beaches of southern France. Emerald began a slow descent and I soon noticed a cargo ship below. The ship appeared to be stopped in the water and I could make out a brightly lit landing pad mounted atop a stack of shipping containers near the foremast. As Emerald continued her approach, I saw her flash the choppers running lights on and off. Seconds later, the landing pad lights repeated this, signaling her to proceed. On the starboard side of the ship I spotted a loading crane in operation, and it seemed to be lowering something into the sea. I glanced over at the instruments and made a mental note of the coordinates. This area of water, I knew, sat atop the Saint-Tropez canyon, which featured some of the steepest underwater sea cliffs in the Mediterranean. Emerald used the radio to make a brief communication to the ship. She then swung around and began a steady approach toward the pad from the port bow. I could see some of the crew, boatswain, and seamen, leaning against the rails and waiting for us. As we drew closer, I could also see the name AGNES ANN spelled out in large white letters across the forward side of the ship. I wondered how many sailors Agnes had to befriend to get a boat like this named after her. Or maybe she was Gundersens mother. I gave the ship a good look-over. Generally, seagoing vessels dont worry me too much, except that they can be the perfect place to whack someone over the head and dump them overboard. They also have big propellers that can chop things into a million pieces, and huge freezers too, where by the time someone found you youd look like Otzi the ice man. But maybe I was overthinking. Anyway, a minute later, Emerald made a smooth touchdown precisely in the center of the pad and immediately began to shut down the turbine engine and everything else with it.
I took a look around. Why I was here I wasnt sure, but I was sure glad to be here. How was that for a landing? she asked me. I looked around and feigned surprise. Oh, we landed? Wow, that was smooth. She laughed. Okay, Mr. Van Essen, you can hop out now. I unbuckled, then removed my headset and climbed out. Before my feet touched the platform, four crewmen were on the scene, fastening the craft to flush deck fittings using heavy nylon straps. I paused to wait for Emerald but saw she was busy with the post- flight checklist. I made my way over to the forward side of the pad and climbed down an aluminum ladder to the main deck. As I reached the bottom of the ladder, I heard a familiar voice from behind me. Welcome aboard, Mr. Van Essen. I turned around to see Bjorn Gundersen. He grinned. Once again, we find ourselves in the same boat.
Chapter 23
Saturday, January 30, 2021
The next morning I awoke refreshed and feeling as though Id slept just about enough. I also felt Felis small warm body pressed next to mine and I could tell she was still asleep. The crew of the Agnes Ann, I learned, had a long-standing tradition of keeping two young girls on board, and these girls were paid by the crew for their specialized services. Apparently, this sort of thing had been going on for so long that no one, other than an occasional guest such as myself, seemed to think anything of it. Bjorn Gundersen considered himself an excellent host by assigning young Feli to spend the night with me in my private cabin, and even picked up the tab. Feli was young, probably around twenty or so, and had dark brown skin, long black hair, and a cute Thai accent. Last night, when she arrived at my room, I told her that I was too drunk for sexthough Id actually only consumed a few sips of cognacbut explained that she could sleep beside me to keep warm. As much as I appreciated Gundersens friendly gesture, I wasnt about to jump ship, so to speak, from bedding a woman the caliber of Michelle Fontaine to banging a common ships whore. I suppose that someday, like when Im ninety and laying in a nursing home bed, Id regret not fucking her little brains out when I had the chance. I then laughed at that thought, knowing Id never live that long anyway. I slithered out of the bed quietly, only to find that Feli was a light sleeper. Where are you going? she whispered. Im starving. Do you want me to bring you anything to eat? She thought about that. Meli and I arent allowed to eat breakfast, she told me, or snacks. Why is that?
The steward wants us to be thinner. Meli, I knew, was the name of the other young girl, and I figured she probably wound up spending the night with Gundersen. I had also come to learn that Meli and Feli werent their actual names, but just the given names the crew had always used for whichever girls were hired to be onboard at any given time. Another long-standing tradition, no doubt. Anyway, I headed to the galley and met a few of the crew members who seemed curious about who I was and what I was doing on board. I introduced myself as a business associate of Mr. Gundersens, and that seemed to satisfy them. At least for now. I also met the chief cook, a dreary-looking old sea dog named Isak Olstrom, who made sure I knew hed worked for Bjorn Gundersen since day onewhatever that meant. He was also curious to know if I was satisfied with Felis performance last night. Thats really none of your business, I told him. Actually, sir, she is my business. Isak went on to inform me that he was the person in charge of the two girls. On top of that, he was responsible for keeping track of who paid how much to sleep with who on what night and where. How did he find time to cook? Isak also explained that I was not to bring either of them snacks since both girls had been putting on too much weight lately, which he apparently felt would be bad for business. I glanced down at Isak Olstroms paunch, which was hanging over his belt, and offered him my opinion, You could probably cut down on the snacks a bit yourself, dont you think? He cleared his throat, then grinned out of the side of his mouth and let me know, No one trusts a skinny cook, sir. At that, he excused himself and headed back to the kitchen. He must be the most trusted man on board, I thought. I grabbed some coffee and drank it down while I piled a plate full of sausage, eggs, breakfast rolls, and some fruit, then headed back to my cabin. On the way there, I took a moment to admire the magnificent
sunrise, which seemed to be turning much of the eastern sky a magnificent auburn color. I took the plate to Feli, who was more than thankful. While chowing down, she promised she wouldnt tell anyone Id brought food to her, and also promised shed keep it our secret that wed only slept togethersans sex. She also let me know that she thought I was handsome looking, and that if I ever wanted to do it, I wouldnt have to pay for it. I took that as a compliment, and gave her a small kiss on the forehead. Feli and I rinsed off together in the small shower. After that, she dressed herself while I shaved and then went on her way. While I dressed into my same clothes, I looked out the porthole and spotted Gibraltar in the distance. I pulled on my pants and stepped outside where I leaned against the rail and took in the sight. It was sunny and clear and the sea was still calm, but I knew that would change soon. Last evening, Gundersen had told me that the Captain expected a storm to greet us as we entered the Atlantic. He also told me that we had a four day sail from there to our destination, which I learned was New York Harbor. The moon was full last night, and Gundersen had more than a few drinks in him. He was also in a talkative mood and I hoped he would become loose-lipped about certain things, like earthquakes and hidden devices, but I had no such luck. He did, however, explain to me the purpose of us taking the ship to New York: Essentially, he told me, you and I need to put as much distance as possible between us and what happened at Riomaggiore not to mention Oberwaldand a cargo ship like this is by far the safest and best way for us to do that. I had to agree with that line of logic, especially since I was in no position to argue. Gundersen also confided to me how it was that he came to own a fleet of ships: Tjurens father was a good man, he explained. He had worked hard and risked everything to start the business many years ago. Eventually, he came to own three large ships, including this one. He stamped his foot on the deck. When we were only teenagers, he
put Tjuren and me to work operating the ships, and he was soon impressed with my abilities and dedication. Before long, we became like father and son. The old man sent me to college while Tjuren chose to stay with the business. While I was away, he and Tjuren kept me up on business affairs and came to respect my opinions and advice. When he was told he was ill and had only a short time to live, the old man decided it was time to turn over the business to Tjuren, his only son. He then leaned close to me and let me know, One ship, however, this very one, he left to me as a parting gift. I think a lot of people confuse their imaginations for memories, especially when booze is in the mix, but I felt Gundersen was telling me the truth. I remember seeing a melancholy look come over his face as he spoke. He continued his story, Over time, Tjuren and I expanded the business. We were able to negotiate the purchase of two of our competitors, and at one time owned as many as sixty ships between us. He added, In those days, Tjuren and I were as brothers. We trusted each other and there was a great deal of mutual respect. He and Iwe were invincible. For a long while, I stood at the rail and watched the distant shore go by as I pondered the things Gundersen had told me. Suddenly, a loud bell rang from the helm, interrupting my thoughts. I asked a passing crewman what the bell indicated. He smiled at my ignorance and let me know, That means we just passed from one sea to another. He patted me on the arm and added, Welcome to the Atlantic Ocean, mate. As he said that, I looked to the northwest and saw a long dark cloud forming in the far distance. As I looked, I remembered something my brother Martin had once told me in regard to his time in the Navy: Simple things, he told me, can be learned in the calm. Great things, however, are usually learned while in the midst of a storm.
Chapter 24
The sight of land had long faded from the horizon. Darkness had now begun to fall, and we found ourselves sailing into a dense fog, which soon surrounded the ship. Gundersen had been drinking all day. Though he behaved himself around me, he was becoming increasingly demanding and belligerent with the crew as each hour passed. After lunch, he invited himself to join in on a card game between Isak Olstrom and two of the crew. He had numerous outbursts until a gust of wind blew some of the cards from the table in the midst of the game. I watched as he stood and threw his cards down, then kicked the table into the crewmen, knocking both of them from their chairs. One of the men jumped to his feet and drew a fist. Without blinking an eye, Gundersen glared at him and told him, Go ahead. Give it your best shot. The crewman hesitated for a moment, then backed off. After that, Gundersen ordered Olstrom to toss the dinner preparations hed begun into the sea. He demanded that Olstrom make a special dinner, a feast for all the crew to enjoy that evening. Olstrom came to me and pleaded, Please. Cant you do something to stop him from drinking? He wont listen to us, and we can only take so much. He glanced around and added, With his condition, he should never touch a drop. What condition is that? I asked. His mind, he replied, gesturing to his own head. The alcohol and his pills do not mix, as you can well see. What are the pills supposed to be for? He looked around and replied in a low voice, Those are prescribed to treat his illness. Gundersen is a madman without them. I let Olstrom know, As far as Im aware, hes not taking his pills anymore.
He looked at me as though in shock, then shook his head. Then we are all in grave danger. At that, he receded back to the confines of his small kitchen. Maybe he was right. When we arrive in New York, perhaps there will be men in white coats waiting for him. Theyll have a small cup of pills and will take him somewhere quiet and peaceful. Somewhere with gardens and benches and rooms with soft, padded walls. Until then, wed just have to stay the hell out of his way. I watched Gundersen as he staggered into the mess hall. As he stepped inside, his foot became caught on a chair leg, causing him to stumble and almost fall. In a fit of rage, he grabbed the chair and carried it outside where he threw it over the rail and into the sea. He then stared back at the crew and yelled, Anyone else want to try to trip me? Youll go overboard as well! The men quickly disbursed. I caught a glimpse of Emerald, who I could see was with Meli. She shook her head in disgust and the two headed back to her room. Gundersen looked around and could hear the murmurs of the crew as they cleared out. He was drunk, but not so much that he didnt know he was making a fool of himself. I watched as he took a deep breath to calm himself, and then another. After that, he spotted me and waved me over. As I approached, he told me, Come, my friend. I have something important to show you. Hopefully, this was what Id been waiting for. Gundersen grabbed a blanket from a deck chair, and I followed him down several stairs, through a few halls, and out to the upper cargo deck. The fog moved across the deck in an eerie way and appeared almost ghostly in the dim lighting. A guard passed us, giving Gundersen a hasty salute as he hurried by. After that, we noticed one of the crew, an older sailor with a ring hanging from his nose, who gave us a quick nod as we passed. Soon, we arrived at a shipping container, a small twenty- foot long steel box that had been set aside from the others. Quietly, Gundersen removed a bolt from one of the levers on the end doors. As he did this, he turned to me and said, as if in warning,
This is what happens to traitors, my friend. He then lifted the lever and pulled the right side door open. As he did this, I was immediately hit by a strong odor and I stepped back. Gundersen, however, seemed unaffected. He opened the left side door and went right in. Once inside, he pulled out a small flashlight and handed it to me. I took short breaths using my mouth only while I tried to acclimate myself to the horrid smell. It was the smell of death. I shone the beam of light around. As it fell upon the far wall, I stopped in my tracks. There, to my horror, was a grown man. He was fully naked, pale white, and shaking from the cold. I could see his hands were bound with rope and tied to a panel at the front wall. I could also see dried blood on his ragged beard. He squinted his eyes from the light and called out, Bjorn? Is that you, my old friend? You and I are no longer friends. As the two exchanged words, I lowered the beam from the mans face and saw urine and feces on the floor. As I lowered the beam of light further I saw a body sprawled across the floor and drew a startled breath. Gundersen glanced over at me and must have noticed the look of dread on my face. I could see that my hand was trembling as I held the flashlight. I looked over the body and could see it was that of a young man, though his skin was pale and grey. I took a shallow breath and stepped closer. As I shone the light upon the young mans face I could tell at once who it was. I turned to Gundersen. Axel? My only son, the man muttered from the wall. I looked up at him. Are you Tjuren? He nodded. I am what is left of him. Who are you? Are you Van Essen? I am.
He turned to Gundersen for a moment and commented, You are drunk, Bjorn. I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here. Shut-up, you old fool. He looked back at me. You cannot allow him to drink, Mr. Van Essen, or you will find yourself like me, a prisoner. He looked down and added, Or, more likely, like my poor son, Axel. Gundersen seemed to ignore that as he stepped forward and draped the blanket over the prisoners shoulders. Tjuren looked at Gundersen and pleaded, Kill me now, so I can be with the Lord, and with Axel. Your father is surely with the Lord, Gundersen replied, but heaven holds no place for traitors or Nonsense, Bjorn. Im no traitor, and neither was Shut your mouth! Gundersen yelled back. At that, he pulled a long knife from his pocket and unfolded it. As I stood and watched, he grabbed the end of Tjurens penis and held the blade across the shaft. A traitor you are, Gundersen told him, and an ignorant fool. I can cut your dick off right here and now. He then let go of the mans penis and said, Ill spare you that, though, and show you mercy only because we were once allies. I could see Tjuren was shaking even more now, though he seemed to have accepted his predicament. He was at the hands of a drunken madman and it was useless to try to talk his way out of this. Gundersen then reached down and grabbed Tjurens scrotum and pulled it forward. Perhaps I should cut your balls off, he said while pressing the edge of the blade over the sack. Tjuren said nothing, but stared coldly into Gundersens eyes. Gundersen let loose his grip and stepped back. Ill spare you that, Tjuren, only out of respect for your father. He added, Too bad you are not more like him. If my father could see you now, he
Before he could finish, Gundersen swung and struck the back of his hand solidly across the side of Tjurens face. That, he told him, is for bringing Nigel Adams upon us. I saw a trickle of blood coming from Tjurens nose, and he looked over at me in despair. Just then, Gundersen thrust the knife into Tjurens abdomen, and I saw the long blade go all the way in. He glared into Tjurens eyes for a moment, then gave the blade a sharp twist before pulling it out. I watched as the mans eyes rolled back and he began to writhe in spasms while gasping for air. Gundersen leaned close and told him in a low voice, That is for my sister. He then cut the ropes from Tjurens hands and feet and allowed him to fall to the floor beside Axel. With no sign of remorse or regret, Gundersen turned and walked away. As we reached the door of the container, he turned to look back and gave his old friend a parting word. You can consider our partnershipterminated. He then slammed shut the doors.
Chapter 25
Isak Olstrom pulled out all the stops. With coaxing from Bjorn Gundersen along with some help from the crew, he managed to serve up a feast of grilled steak, which appeared to be London Broil, along with sauted mushrooms, and mashed sweet potatoes. This was served alongside pickled gherkin, and lingonberry jam. In addition, each plate was topped off with half a Tristan lobster tail with a slice of lemon and a small tub of drawn butter. The crew were certainly impressed, as was I, though I could sense enough tension amongst us to create a small vortex. Nonetheless, everybody dug in. After seeing poor Tjuren and Axel, my appetite was almost nil, but I still put down a few bites. I was seated across from Feli, which I guess was all right for visual stimulation, though our conversation was limited to say the least. Discretely, I scooted my plate over to her and she slid her empty one to me. No wonder she likes me. The Captain was still warning the crew of an upcoming storm. For now, however, the fog had lifted and the clouds were giving way to brilliant stars amidst a near-full moon now rising in the eastern sky. Though it was cold, we were all keeping warm enough with endless refills of tawny port wine, which Olstrom had pulled out of hiding. Gundersen, however, had his own bottle of poison, which appeared to be whiskey, and he showed no signs of slowing down. Captain Bergstedt had joined him at his table for a few minutes until I saw him gracefully dismiss himself and head back to the helm. He brought his plate of food with him, of course. After everyone had finished their meal, Olstrom proudly brought out the pice de rsistance, which were large platters of pannkaka, which were basically Swedish pancakes. These were stuffed with diced apples and served with fresh whipped cream. These disappeared as fast as they were servedbut Feli let me know they were delicious. By the time we reach New York, I thought, shell be 200 pounds. While everyone was enjoying the dessert, Bjorn Gundersen stood to raise a toast. He tapped his glass with a spoon, then began, Id like to
thank everyone for joining me tonight. He cleared his throat and continued, Id also like to thank everyone for putting up with me today. I have not been well. If I have insulted any of you, I ask your forgiveness. He paused for a long moment to look over the small group. Many of you, particularly those who have been around for a few years or more, knew my sister, Ella. I saw a few heads nod. Gundersen continued, It brings me great pain to announce that my dear young sister has been taken from this Earth, and is now with our Lord. I heard a few gasps from the group, along with some hushed chatter. Her killer, however, has been captured. This time, the chatter wasnt so hushed, and one of the older sailors stood. He looked to me like a hardened man with dark sunken eyes, scraggly hair, and a gold ring pierced under his nose. I knew Ella, he said, and it breaks my heart to hear this. He paused to glance around. It breaks all of our hearts. He then asked, Who was it, Bjorn? Who was her killer? Bjorn held his hand up to quiet the group. Everyone here needs to know, Alrik, and I am here to tell you all. It was the same man that had me arrested and jailed. Most everyone seemed startled. It was the same man who brought an outsider to infiltrate and corrupt our group. Alrik called out, Who is this devil? Gundersen paused for effect, then went on. This devil is the same man who positioned himself most effectively within in our grouphe raised his voiceand for years we called him our leader! The group seemed shocked by that. Alrik cried out, What are you saying? Is this our dear Tjuren youre talking about, Bjorn? Gundersen locked eyes with Alrik. Im afraid it is.
At that, everyone shook their heads in disbelief, and I could tell the crew was finding this hard to believe. What have you done with him? Alrik shouted. Where is he now? Thats enough from you, Alrik! Gundersen shouted back. Sit down and allow me to speak. Alrik remained standing in defiance, and I had a feeling things were about to escalate. Youve killed him, havent you? Alrik yelled. He spun around and looked at everyone. Hes killed Tjuren! He lives, still! Gundersen shouted. But he is a traitor, and deserves death for deceiving all of us! He slammed down his glass and marched straight to Alrik. Once there, he put his nose right up to the man and told him, It is Tjuren who is responsible for Ellas death, and he Youre a liar, Bjorn! Tjuren loved your sister, and I knowwe all knowhe would never raise a hand against her. For what its worth, this Alrik fellow struck me as a man who possessed the always ill-fated combination of a low IQ along with a distorted sense of loyalty. From my experiences, men like this can be trouble. They didnt become this way out of mere misfortune or from tough breaks along the way. Theyre just dumbasses. Gundersen glared at him. Then you are a fool. At that, Alrik stepped forward and shoved Gundersen with both arms, sending him crashing onto a table and then to the floor. I stood to look at Gundersen, who was now sprawled out and covered with food. It appeared that his little toast wasnt going as hed planned. He quickly stood and pulled up his sleeves. I could see fury in his eyes, and I was pretty sure I was about to witness a murder. I whispered to Feli, Head to your room, quickly. She was too engrossed in the action to oblige, but asked me, Arent you going to do something?
I told her, When two tigers are fighting, its the man sitting in the tree that wins. She nodded. Alrik knew enough to see that Gundersen was going to be a challenging opponent and wasted no time. Quickly, he ran straight at Gundersen, colliding into him at a full charge. Before he could react, Gundersen was thrust solidly against a door. Though he lacked quickness, I knew Gundersen had no shortage of might. Alrik threw a left uppercut, which caught Gundersen square in the jaw. Before he knew it though, Gundersen had hold of the mans left arm. With his powerful hand, he crushed Alriks thin wrist. Then, with a powerful move, Gundersen dropped and slammed the mans arm over his knee. The gruesome snapping sound was heard by everyone. While Alrik dropped to the floor to writhe in pain, Gundersen stood over him and yelled, Are we finishedor do I need to break your neck, too? The man was holding his arm, oblivious to Gundersens question. Gundersen stood back and ordered Tim, who was one of the security guards, Take that piece of filth to the infirmary. He glanced back at Alrik and added, And keep him out of my sight. As Tim worked to remove Alrik, Gundersen headed back to his table, swept some dust and crumbs from his shirt, then grabbed his glass again and addressed the group. Now, where was I? Despite all the ugliness that had just transpired, everyone had to laugh at that one, including me. Before Im interrupted again, he continued, Id like to raise a toast to sweet Ella. Everyone raised their glass and replied, To Ella. As we all sipped, Gundersen let us know, I would also like to announce that I am placing myself in charge of our group, and I ask for your loyalty to me and to our mission.
There was silence for a long awkward moment before a bearded old geezer seated behind me spoke up, Im with you. That was followed by another affirmation, then another until it was pretty much unanimous. I thought for a moment and realized Id just witnessed a transition in power within what I considered to be a potentially dangerous extremist group. Feli, of course, was oblivious to what was going onexcept for her meal. Shed finished the plate of food I given her, as well as the apple- stuffed pannkaka, except for one last bite, which she slid over to me. I helped myself to that as I continued listening. After thanking the group for their pledge of support, Gundersen did something unexpected. He cleared his throat once again and began another announcement, I would also like to ask each of you to welcome into our group my close trusted friend and our ally, Craig Van Essen. He pointed to me. A few people applauded while some others looked my way before nodding their head. Near the galley, I saw Isak Olstrom, the cook, and he was staring at me with a look of disdain before he turned away. I sat there with a frozen expression on my face while I tried to hide just how weird this was for me. Gundersen wasnt done, though. He continued, Van Essen and I managed to escape from prison together. He has proven himself to be my most trusted associate, and a man of great wisdom and cunning. Everyone was now gazing at me, and I felt like a germ under a microscope. I ask you to support me in my choice of Craig Van Essen as second-in-charge of the Skilja. I almost choked on my pannkaka.
Chapter 26
It was truly an evening to rememberand I had a feeling it wasnt over yet. As I headed to my room, I turned to see little Feli following behind me. She flashed a smile and quickly caught up. Where are you going? I asked. Dont you want me to come with you? Well, that sounded kind of funny, I mean hearing it from her. Dont you have somewhere to be? Not for, like, thirty minutes. Maybe an hour. She smiled again. I thought about that for a moment. I also thought about Michelle Fontainewho I knew was about five-thousand miles from here right now. Inside me, everything was suddenly confused, especially my blood flow, and I knew how that can affect a mans thinking. Nonetheless, I shook all the naughty thoughts from my mind and told her, I just need some sleep, sweetheart. You run along. Just then, I saw Emerald coming down the hall toward us. She had a glimmering look in her eye, and I could tell she had the same ideas in her head as Feli. Is pannkaka an aphrodisiac or something? Feli turned to see Emerald and quickly headed off. Thats right, sweetheart, you run along, Emerald told her. She then leaned herself against my door and looked at me with big blue eyes. Sohow does it feel to be second banana? I shrugged. Just who are you, anyway? And how did you? Look, Emerald, this whole thing is a surprise to me, too. Right now, I just need some rest and some time to think. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. Is that why you sent Feli away? Or maybe youre just being faithful to someone?
I guess I was trying to be faithful, but I also knew that if dicks had wings, Feli would be a major airport. I told Emerald, I just want to get some rest. Okay? Emerald placed her hand on my shoulder and then ran her finger slowly down my chest. She looked me again with her ice-blue eyes, which I could now tell were actually colored contacts, and asked, Are you going to send me away, too? I was about to reply to that when I looked and saw Bjorn Gundersen approaching. Emerald turned to see him coming and quickly pulled her hand away. You dont appreciate fresh air until someone spoils it, and Gundersen arrived smelling like a Scottish wake. He smiled at both of us, then advised me, Be careful my friend, she can be overly demandingespecially in bed. He added, Ask anyone. Well, I could tell that struck a nerve. Emerald seemed flustered for a moment, then turned and gave Gundersen a hard slap across the face. Youre a pig! she told him, then stormed off. Gundersen seemed shocked by that at first, but then chuckled and let me know, Id fire her if she wasnt such a good pilot. After that, he gave me a firm pat on the arm and told me, I hope you dont mind my making you second-in-command. Was that a shock for you? I shrugged. I didnt know what to say, I replied, but its an honor to I need someone I can trust, he interrupted. He then glanced around and lowered his voice. Half these bastards would throw me to the sharks if they thought it would profit them. And me with you, I added. He thought about that and nodded in agreement. He then leaned close and whispered, Once they learn that Tjuren is goneand they come to know of the crimes he committedthey will then accept us. Well, I didnt want to rock his boat, so to speak, but I couldnt resist adding, If we manage to live long enough.
That got him thinking again, I suppose. After considering my comment he made a suggestion, Perhaps you have a point. We should keep an eye out for signs of trouble. He gave me a serious look and added, I wouldnt want one of us to end up with a bullet in us. At that, he gave me another pat on the arm and headed off. Quickly, I ducked into my room and locked the door before anyone else decided to show up. Later that night, as I lay in bed, a thousand thoughts began racing through my mind. I thought about Tjuren, who I guessed was probably dead by now, and about his poor son, Axel. I thought about Emerald, too, and wondered where she fit in to all this. More than anything else I thought about what Bjorn Gundersen had said to meparticularly his concern that one of us might end up with a bullet in us. I knew if that was going to happen, there was nothing either of us could do to prevent it. No matter what you do, the bullet with your name on it will get you. So too can the ones addressed To Whom It May Concern.
Chapter 27
Sunday, January 31, 2021
That night, while deep asleep, I had a strange and vivid dream. I dreamt I was aboard a small boat sailing on a river. Along the shore I saw tall palm trees and exotic flowers while birds and brightly colored butterflies filled the air. I remember it was a beautiful place, a tropical paradise. Soon, the boat pulled to a landing platform at the rivers edge. I saw no one around, save for my older brother, Martin. Seeing him again after so long was a pleasant surprise and I went to him and asked, Where have you been hiding, Martin? He looked at me and grinned, then leaned close and whispered, Its a secret, Craig. Its all a secret. I thought that was odd. Nonetheless, he and I left the rivers edge and found a trail leading through a dense rainforest. Soon, we found ourselves at the mouth of a wide cavern. The cavern, I recall, was filled with lush greenery, and narrow beams of golden sunlight shone down through the tall trees surrounding us. As my brother and I stood before the cave, I let him know, Im glad youre here, Martin. He smiled. Everyone has missed you, including me. I smiled at him and added, Its good to have you back. His smile faded and he let me know, I cant be here long. Why? He looked around, then shook his head and whispered, It has to be kept secret, Craig. I could see a look of desperation in his eyes, and it was mixed with regret. You cant just leave, he told me, not until its over. Not until
Just then, I felt myself being knocked to the ground. Suddenly, I awoke from my dream and opened my eyes. A huge wave had swept into the ships starboard side, and I realized I had been tossed from my bunk. I heard a couple of screams from nearby, maybe from Meli and Feli. All at once, a bright bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a loud clap of thunder, which stopped my heart for a moment and shook what was left of the sleep from me. I dressed myself, then put on my jacket with the hood over my head and went outside. Though the ship measured 250 feet, we were being tossed about like a canoe. I could see that a wicked wind was driving the rain to where it was almost sideways, though the deck above sheltered me from most of it. Still, I had to hold onto the rails to keep from being swept around. It was about three in the morning, I guessed, and I figured wed probably reached the Azores by now, though I could see nothing through the storm. I looked out into the darkness and let the cold air fill my lungs. Minutes later, as I turned and stepped from the rail, another flash of lightning lit the sky and the sound of thunder exploded in my ears, startling me again. I grabbed onto a steel post as I caught my breath, then headed in the direction of my room. From the shadows I heard a craggy voice, Whats the matter, lassie girl? Are you afraid of a little squall? I looked to see a figure stepping out from the darkness. Maybe you shouldnt be out herealone. His polished nose ring glittered in the dim light and I could tell it was Alrik. In his eyes I noticed an evil gaze. A strong gust of wind caught me and I held onto the steel post firmly. Go to your room, I told him. Youre drunk. Fuck you. I dont take orders from Yanksnor from little girls. Youre the one wearing a ring in your nose. He snarled at that and spit at my feet.
I warned him, Spit at me again, Alrik, and Ill toss you over this rail. Understand? He laughed. Dont threaten me, you Your arm is broken, you dumbass. Dont make me break the other one. Just back away. He grinned. Who do you think you are? You think this is your ship? He lowered his voice and went on, You think you and Gundersen can do away with old Tjuren and just take over? Youre drunk. Maybe, he admitted, But I know what youve done to him. One of the guards told me youve got him and his boy stripped naked, and tied Enough, Alrik! He laughed again. Im tellin the crew. Im tellin everyone, you hear? Everyone will know the truth about youyou murderer! Ive seen men like this before. Dumb, drunk, and pissed to the gills. A loaded grenade just waiting for someone to pull their pin. Once that happens, of course, Mr. Grenade is no longer welcome. Step aside, I told him. I began walking in the direction of my room. He stepped into my path and glared at me. You have to walk through me, faggot. I guess I dont take well to being taunted. I stepped forward and swung at him with a left hook. He was quick though, and managed to duck it. With a fast right uppercut, he landed a blow under my jaw, just like hed done earlier with Gundersen. And just like Gundersen, I was going to break a mans arm tonight. Before I could reposition myself, Alrik threw himself into me, slamming my back into the rail. From that, the wind was knocked out of my lungs, but I managed to see a right hook coming my way. Quickly, I ducked the punch, but wasnt fast enough to keep him from yanking my hood over my face and pulling me down. With his knee, he kicked me in the face before I could pull away. I stood and
then stepped forward with a strong right jab, which landed solidly into his nose. And that landed him on the deck. He held his hand over his face for a moment, then glared up at me. You bastard! He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old folding knife. Before he could open it though, I stepped forward and kicked it from his hand, sending it tumbling over the side of the ship and into the sea. No! He jumped to his feet and looked over the rail. That was my fathers! he cried. Youre lucky I didnt choose to cut your head off with it. He turned from the rail and looked at me with the eyes of a serpent. I decided Id had about enough of Alrik and turned to head to my room. Ill get you! he called out. I turned and gave him a look, then continued on my way. Ill get you when you least expect! he yelled. Youll wake up with a knife in you! He then stepped forward and spit at me. I felt the spray of saliva hit the back of my jacket and my left handand that did it. I spun around and darted straight at him. Before he could think to move, I plowed into him with all my weight. In my rage, I grabbed him by the right arm and slammed it over the rail. At that, the familiar sound of snapping bones came to my ears. His face instantly turned white and he gasped for air. I grabbed him by the collar and took a brief moment to decide his fate. He glared at me and laughed. In his final act of foolishness and defiance he spit again, and this time into my face. I looked at the steel rail behind him as my grip tightened. He wasnt laughing now. He could see the fury in my eyes, and I could now see a look of terror in his. There would be no act of mercy. I had no final words for him. Nor was I in a listening mood. With no further ado, I thrust him upward over the rail, then pushed. In desperation, he tried frantically to grasp the steel rail using his broken arms, but it was not to
be. I watched as he fell headlong into the darkness and hopelessness of the frigid sea below. I took a long, deep breath to calm myself and looked down at my right hand. On the front of my knuckles I could see the shape of his nose ring, which had left a deep mark indented into my fist. After rubbing my knuckles for a moment, I looked back at the rail and thought about what Id just done. Once the pin is pulled, I thought, the only thing you can do is throw the grenade and cover yourself. I turned and headed back to bed.
Chapter 28
Monday, February 1, 2021
In this business, you have to take one day at a time. Sometimes, however, I feel like Im attacked by several days all at once. The previous days rainstorm had finally subsided, but not until late in the evening. Surprisingly, Alriks disappearance went almost unnoticed. The guards did a cursory search of the ship and concluded that hed been swept overboard by the storm. Either that or he had taken his own life after his humiliation at the hands of Bjorn Gundersen. Personally, I was okay with either theory. So far, today was proving to be just as challenging for the crew. Though the rain had ended, the strong winds and high seas remained. At dawn, the helicopters tie-downs required reinforcement, and then one of the loading cranes became loose, which kept some of the crew members busy for hours. Two days of high seas had my stomach feeling like a punching bag. Because of that, I stuck to a strict diet of black coffee and fresh air while Gundersen continued with his whiskey. This, of course, made him a belligerent asshole to be around, so I avoided him as best I could. Around mid-day, I headed to the mess for coffee number four. Gundersen was there and had ordered a special plate of food from Isak Olstrom. He saw me as I entered and had Isak prepare the same dish for me. Olstrom peered out from the galley and asked me, Are you sure youre going to eat this? Gundersen heard that and told him, Just do as I say and dont ask questions! Understand? Olstrom nodded and went to work on the meals.
While we waited, Gundersen sat himself at a long table beside Meli and Feli, who were taking what was probably a much needed break. Also seated at the table was Emerald, who smiled at me, and then excused herself as Gundersen sat. He waved me over and I took a seat across from him and the two girls. He looked over and Meli and Feli and asked, Hows business? Have the men been treating you well? Both girls giggled at that and looked away. He then looked at the knuckles on my right hand. In a low voice, he said to me, I think Ive solved the mystery of our missing person. I glanced at my knuckles, which still had an obvious mark from where Id landed my fist into Alriks nose-ring. I told Gundersen, I think he must have been swept overboard or maybe he jumped. Either way, he got himself in over his head. He grinned. He was a loose cannon, the old bastard. At least we dont have listen to him running his mouth anymore. Minutes later, Olstrom came to the table carrying two plates. Both were filled with steaming hot stekt stromming, another Swedish dish which I learned was made from specially seasoned herring fried in butter. This was served with a side of mashed potatoes and lingonberry jam. Gundersen dug in, while I continued nursing my coffee. The sight of the herring floating on a pond of butter was becoming too much for me to look at so I slid the plate over the girls. They glanced over at Gundersen, who seemed focused on his own meal, then looked behind to be sure Olstrom wasnt watching before they started picking away at it. After a minute or so, Olstrom came storming out of the galley. Stop! He went to the girls and grabbed the plate from in front of them. Who gave this to you? He looked at Gundersen, then me. I couldnt eat, I told him, so I Youyou are not to feed them! I told you! He gave me a vile look and headed back to the kitchen carrying what was left of the meal.
After that, Gundersen looked up from his meal and whispered to me, Hes crazy as a loon. It was almost amusing to hear Gundersen, of all people, refer to someone other than himself as crazy. If I had to guess, Id say he didnt exactly have both oars in the water himself. He paused for a few seconds, then added, He is loyal, though, and one of the few I feel I can trust. Right. I wasnt sure where Isak Olstroms loyalty lay, but I knew Gundersen had made a fatal error by putting his trust in me. I was committed to one thing, and that was to find if there was a connection between this group and what had happened in Tokyo. If putting a knife in Gundersens back and sinking this ship right here would move the mission forward, then Id do it. As long as I didnt go down with the ship, that is. After that, I headed back to my quarters and lay on the bed. Id borrowed an e-reader from the recreation room, and began reading an old Ian Fleming novel. He wrote of a bygone era when manners mattered and women seemed happy to be playthings. When phones were stupid and people were smart. A forgotten time when spies played by the rules. While I read, the ship continued to sway from side to side as it continued through the rough seas. The rhythmic tossing and turning were wreaking havoc on the ship itself, and also my stomach. I began feeling nauseous again, and closed my eyes to rest. An hour or two later, I was awakened by the sound of voices and footsteps from upstairs. I got up and went outside, where I saw it had begun to drizzle yet again. On the deck above, I could see that some of the crew were standing outside of Meli and Felis room, and there seemed to be some kind of commotion going on. I hurried up the stairs to the next deck and went to the room. I wove through the small crowd to see Gundersen standing just inside the door. He waved me to come closer. Theyre sick, he explained. The rough seas are taking their toll on the girls.
I stepped inside to see Meli, who was lying on her bunk. Her eyes were rolled back and she appeared lethargic. Captain Bergstedt was there and had a damp cloth over the girls forehead. I walked over to the small bathroom, where I found Feli kneeling before the toilet. She was panting and had a string of green bile hanging from her chin. What happened? I asked her. Slowly, she looked up at me with bloodshot eyes and simply shook her head. I knelt beside her and put my hand on her shoulder. Her usually smooth brown skin looked almost grey and felt cold and clammy. I asked, Did you take any kind of drugs or anything? Again she shook her head. What about Meli? Did she do? No! she replied. We dont dodrugs Just then she knelt forward, gasped for air, and then began to dry heave again. While she did that, I went to her bunk and grabbed a bed sheet. I waited a minute or two. When she was done, I covered her with the sheet and asked, Was Meli vomiting like that too? She nodded. Did the two of you eat anything? She seemed to think about that and then replied, Justjust what you gave us. Thats all. I stepped out of the bathroom and knelt beside Captain Bergstedt at Melis bed. I put my fingers on the girls wrist and could feel only a faint, thready pulse. She looked pale and I could see she was struggling to breath. To me, she appeared to be at deaths door. I asked Bergstedt, Do you have a sick bay on this ship? He nodded. Upstairs. Is there oxygen? There should be. Do you think that would help?
It wouldnt hurt, I replied. You need to put both of them on oxygen and start them on IV fluids right away. I asked, Wheres the medic? Bergstedt looked at me. Im the medic, I guess. That is, unless you know anything about I just know theyve both been vomiting and seem dehydrated. Lets get oxygen and fluids started and well go from there. As he and the crew began transferring the girls to the sick bay, I went to Gundersen and asked, How are you feeling? Me? Im fine, my friend. Why do you ask? The girls had the same meal you did, but they both look like theyre ready to die. He thought about that. You gave your meal to the girls, right? Did they eat it? I nodded. They cleaned the plate. Had you eaten any of it? I shook my head. Not a bite. Thank God. He considered that further, then patted me on the arm. Come with me. I followed Gundersen back downstairs we headed straight to the mess. As we entered the galley, we saw Isak Olstrom dumping the liquid contents of a small bottle down the sink. He was startled as he turned to see us and dropped the bottle into the sink. Gundersen pushed Olstrom aside and grabbed the bottle, which I could see still had an ounce or two remaining. He took a whiff of the contents and asked, What is this? Olstrom seemed tense. He hesitated for a moment, then replied, Just some old ingredients I found lying around. I was emptying the bottle so I could Damn it, Isak, tell me what this is or Ill make you drink it!
I could see Olstroms hands begin to tremble as he turned and glanced at me for a moment, then back at Gundersen. Justold ingredients. Gundersen swung and backhanded the old man across the face, which landed him on the ground. Gundersen then took a large ladle from the counter and dipped it into one of the fry vats. He held the dripping ladle of boiling oil over Olstrom and warned him, Tell me, Isak, what kind of poison did you put in the girls food? What is in this? He held out the small bottle. Olstrom trembled in fear but made no reply. I watched as Gundersen poured the ladle of searing hot oil onto Olstroms head. The old man let out a loud, almost earsplitting cry. Just then, two of the ships security guards came hurrying into the mess. One of them I recognized as Tim, and the other was the chubby one with the birthmark on his face. They came up behind me and peered into the tiny galley to see Gundersen standing over Olstrom, who had now curled himself into the far corner of the floor. Whats going on here? Tim asked. Gundersen turned and pointed his finger at him, This is none of your business! Get outnow! Both guards both took a step back, but remained close to the door. Gundersen kicked Olstrom in the back of the head, then got down on one knee beside him. Tell me what you put in their food, you old fool! Is this some kind of poison? Olstrom began sobbing. After a moment, I heard him mutter a reply, It wasnt meant for them. He then raised his head and glared over at me and cried, I told you not to give them food, damn you! Why did you have to do that? Why did you? He then lowered his head and returned to sobbing. Gundersen took a moment to let all this sink in. He then pulled Olstrom to his feet and demanded, Why would you poison him? Van Essen is on our side! Olstrom was trembling and terrified, but managed to reply, IveIve been at your service for thirty years, Bjorn. He glanced
over at me for a moment and continued, Who is he to come along and make himself second in command? Why should he, an American, be ? Gundersen backhanded the old man across the face again, then grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head. In his fury, he plunged Olstroms face into the vat of boiling oil. I stepped back in shock as both guards came running in. By the time they reached him, Gundersen had pulled Olstrom out of the oil and was beating his scalded face with his fist. Together, the guards managed to stop Gundersen and pull Olstrom out of the galley. I want him off this shipnow! Gundersen ordered them. Do you understand me? He started for them. One of the guards, Tim, jumped to his feet and drew his gun. We have to stop you, Mr. Gundersen, or wellwell have to arrest you. Gundersen stopped in his tracks. What are you talking about? This is my ship, you little Wed be forced to place you under house arrest, sir, if you kill this manlike, in front of us. Gundersen took a step back and drew a breath. He poisoned the girls! Van Essen and I found him emptying the bottle of poison down the sink. Tim slowly lowered his gun and nodded. Well do an investigation, Mr. Gundersen. * * * There are lots of things in this world that are edible. Some things, however, are only edible once. That night, young Melis condition worsened. Her breathing slowed further and she soon began having seizures one after the other. Through that, she became progressively weaker and less responsive until she finally passed away at around seven p.m. There was no dinner served that night, nor was there laughter or conversation to be heard.
She was buried at sea before a pale rising moon while her friend, Feli, continued her own decline. Olstrom finally admitted to the guards that hed added a mixture of aconite extract and cyanide to my plate, which Id unwittingly given to the girls. We had no treatment or antidote for this on board. Aside from Gundersen, the two guards, and myself, no one knew about any of this. Except, of course, Isak Olstrom. By dawn, he was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 29
Tuesday, February 2, 2021
At about four p.m. on Tuesday, young Feli went to meet her maker. At sunset, we gathered to bury her body at sea. I looked around and was surprised how many of the crew appeared to be grieving her death, including Emerald. There was sadness in their eyes, far more than Id noticed for either Alrik or Isak. And this was for a young girl they barely knew, a ships whore as she was called, while the two missing men had toiled alongside most of this group for decades. In Gundersens eyes, however, I saw no sadness or grief. There was no sign of remorse or sorrow. I saw only bitterness, and this seemed to be growing in him more and more each day. After the burial, Gundersen came to me. In a low voice he asked, Have you heard any murmuring from the crew? I shook my head. How about you? Ive heard nothing either. He let me know, Apparently, the guards know how to keep a secret. As far as I know, no one suspects the girls were poisoned. He patted me on the shoulder. Im just glad it wasnt you, my friend. In truth, so was I. I asked Gundersen, Whats the plan for New York? He smiled at that and replied, First, you and I will need to acquire new identities, and I have reliable contacts there who will assist us with that. I nodded. Gundersen continued, After the ship is unloaded, Ill gather the group together and explain to everyone our plan. He told me, This will include you, of course, and it will be a great day for the Skiljaand hopefully for the nations of the world. That struck me as strange. What do you mean by that? I asked. Maybe you should let me in on the plan now, Bjorn.
He looked at me for a long moment, almost suspiciously, but I didnt look away or blink. Finally, he patted me on the shoulder again and assured me, All in good time my friend. For now, I ask only for your patience. He grinned and added, The Skilja are not terrorists. We want only to promote what is best for the world. We are merely paper tigers, remember? Therefore, we are nothing to be feared. I thought for a moment, then took the opportunity to ask him about something that had been bothering me: When Emerald and I landed on the ship, I noticed something being lowered into the sea. What was? Again, my friend, he told me, all in good time. At that, he reached around me and gave me a powerful hug. You and I have cheated death more than once and yet here we are. We should be happy just to be alive and free. This wasnt quite what I wanted to hear, but I was in no position to press the issue. Not with Bjorn Gundersen, anyway. I needed to find someone who was willing to talk. Gundersen walked off and I headed back to the mess for another cup of coffee. Emerald was there, and was busy making a fresh pot. She smiled at me as I entered and moved her long hair back from her face. I dont know who made it, she said, but that last batch tasted like poison. Maybe it was. On that subject, I asked her, Whos the new cook going to be? Any rumors? She shook her head. Whoever the Captain throws an apron on, I guess. She looked at me and joked, Actually, you might make a good ships cook. Ill put in a word for you with Bergstedt. I chuckled, knowing that Id probably end up killing more people than Olstrom. I saw that Emerald was wearing all black, including the black leather pants Id seen before, plus a matching jacket and a pair of heels. Maybe she was in mourning? As the coffee began brewing, she glanced around and then let me know, Feli told me about you. About me? What did she say?
That you were kind to her. Does that surprise you? She grinned. And that you let her simply lay beside you to stay warm. Emerald looked at me and added, She admired you for that more than you know. I wasnt sure how to reply to that, so I didnt. Emerald took my cup and filled it. As she handed it back she leaned close to my ear and whispered, Tonight, Craig, I want to lay beside you I turned and looked into her eyes and could tell she was serious. and Im not taking no for an answer. Somehow, this caught me off-guard. I thought about her offer for a moment. Though I had a feeling of commitment for Michelle Fontaine, I had to start thinking about my mission. It occurred to me that Emerald had been associated with both Gundersen and Tjuren for years and had been part of their inner circle. Perhaps sharing my bed might allow me to squeeze out of her a few answers to my many questions. Perhaps I could also gain a glimpse into the inner workings of the Skilja. Perhaps I could look at myself tomorrow with a clean conscience and find my soul still intact. Perhaps, though, that was asking too much. I whispered into her ear, My door will be open. For dinner that night, some of the crewmembers warmed a pot of stew and laid out the makings of sandwiches for everyone. The sea had calmed some, as had my stomach, and I managed to put down a few bites. I looked around, but Emerald was nowhere to be seen. Later that night, I lay in my bed reading. It was close to midnight already and I figured that Emerald was going to be a no-show. I turned off my e-reader and went to the porthole of my room, wearing only a t- shirt and a pair of sweatpants Id found in the closet. As I stood at the window, I could see the light of the rising moon shimmering over the vast sea. Just then, I heard my door open and I turned to see the faint silhouette of a woman standing in the doorway. She closed the door
behind her and walked toward me. Under her coat I could see she was wearing a long white robe and white slippers. Emerald. Its late, I told her. I figured you werent coming. She ignored that, then pulled her coat off and set it aside. She then loosened a strap from her waist and pulled open her robe. In the faint moonlight, I could see she was wearing nothing under the robe. I could also see that she was beautiful, though in a devilish way, and I was looking forward to practicing my spy craft. She then stepped over to me and put her arms around my neck, then kissed my ear and whispered, Am I worth the wait? Well, that was going to depend on how much information I could extract from her, but I wasnt going to tell her that. Instead, I held her firmly and kissed her as I breathed in her perfume. A few seconds later, her robe was on the floor and she was pulling my shirt off. Her skin had been chilled from the cool outside air. Nonetheless, it was smooth to touch. Soon, our hands were all over each other and she began pulling my sweatpants down from my waist. I reached down and dropped them to the floor, then kicked them out of the way. I was fully naked now, and she kissed my neck and chest for a while as she proceeded to do other things with her hands. Once she felt I was ready for action, she whispered into my ear, I want you to fuck me right now. She kissed my ear with her tongue and added, Ive wanted you so bad since I first saw you. To me, Emerald was a source of information that I needed to tap. Still, to be completely honest, a part of me wanted her tooand not just for professional reasons. She took me by the hand and pulled me over to the bed. After kicking off her sandals, she lay herself down with her legs open and invited me to join her. There was just enough moonlight that I could see her thin, pretty body, though it was covered almost everywhere with tattoos. Fortunately, it was just dark enough that I couldnt clearly make out the details of all the devils, bats, and serpents which I knew were gawking at me.
Deep inside me, a dark corner of my heart was beginning to enjoy this. In my brain, I knew she was a career criminal, a murderer, and probably a petri dish of germs. My brain, however, wasnt the one making the decisions right now. To my knowledge, no woman had ever described me as a gentle lover, and I wasnt about to start playing the part of Mr. Nice Guy nowespecially with this woman. Before long, I had her head batting against the wall at the end of the bed, which I thought was great. After a minute of that, she pushed me onto my back and positioned herself on top of me, her long hair hanging in my face. I pushed her hips upon me and forced her movements with one hand. With the other, I grabbed the back of her head as we kissed. This went on for a while, and during this time I allowed myself to become intoxicated with the combination of her perfume, her perspiration, and her general body stink. After a few more minutes, she arched upward as our muscles tightened and trembled. Passion consumed us until we finished together, then fell into each others arms, exhausted. After wed each caught our breath, we looked into each others eyes and laughed. See how I always get what I want? she said. I wanted you, too, I told her, which was regrettably true. Only after I threw myself at you. She looked around for a moment and asked, Do you have anything to drink in here? I wasnt sure that I could walk yet, so I pointed to a small dresser which was bolted to the far wall. Theres a bottle of cognac in the drawer right over there. Emerald wiggled off me, then climbed to her feet and staggered over to where the bottle was and brought it back to the bed. She wiggled the cork for a few seconds without success, then handed it to me. With a quick yank, I popped the cork out. Wow. You should fight crime. I smiled at the irony of that and handed her the bottle.
She took a quick swig and made a face. Kind of sweet. The wine? Well, I wasnt talking about your love-making, Craig. That was anything but sweet. She took a second sip, then leaned over and whispered, But I thought it was good. Good? Thats it? I took a sip and then pulled a sheet over us. Emerald signed sleepily and said, I assume you have a girl waiting for you somewhere out there. I don't have a girlfriend, if thats what you prying at. Though I do know a girl who might be pissed if she heard me say that. She began to climb out of bed. Where are you going? I asked. Back to my room, she replied, then smiled and joked, Or maybe to visit one of my other lovers. Why? I shrugged. I thought youd be staying longer, thats all. She grabbed the bottle from my hand and drew another sip. After that, she wiped her mouth on her arm and joked, Were just using each other for sex, right? I guess so, but its cold in here, too. Plus I have all these questions I need to ask. She grinned and lay her head on my chest. Okay. Five more minutesand youd better tell me Im beautiful. Im beautiful. Say it! Youre beautiful, Emerald. She looked into my eyes. Its so true. I reached down and slapped her hard on the butt, which had to sting. Youre going to get me horny again with that. Sorry.
I figured I should change topics, so I asked, What do you think Gundersen has planned for when we get to New York? She shrugged. I have no idea. Okay. Well, I guess that would have been too easy. I thought for a minute and asked, I wonder why he picked New York of all places? She yawned and replied, Thats just where the ship was headed. Just be glad were not going to Nigeria or someplace. This interrogation wasnt going as planned. Before I could think of another question, Emerald began breathing in a way that told me she had dozed off. I coughed abruptly, which woke her up, and asked, When we get to New York, what are you supposed to do? She yawned again. I dunno. I guess wellfind out I waited for more until I noticed she was back to doing the sleep- breathing thing again. Well, so much for this plan. As a spy, sometimes you have to try different things until you find what works. Of course, if something doesnt work the first time you just try again until you get what you were after. I ran my hand over Emeralds hair and felt her warm body against mine. Id have to try this again later.
Chapter 30
Wednesday, February 3, 2021
Bjorn Gundersen climbed the stairs to the upper deck. Behind him, in the light of the glowing bow lantern, he noticed a few flakes of snow falling from the dark sky above. He watched for a minute, then entered the compass bridge. It was the change of shift, 0400, and the chief officer and deck cadet were taking report from the second officer. The three men turned to see Gundersen entering and saluted as he approached. Gundersen returned the salute. The chief officer immediately detected the smell of alcohol. Hoping this was just a friendly visit from the ships owner, he asked, How can we help you, Mr. Gundersen? Well be arriving in New York soon, Gundersen replied. Id like the cadet to make a visual inspection of the rigging, the anchors, and such. Aye, sir. He looked at the young deck cadet, a trainee, and gave him a nod toward the door. As the cadet stepped away, Gundersen told him, Ohand ask the Captain to meet me here on the bridge at 0430, if you dont mind. The cadet nodded. Aye, sir. 0430. After the young man had put on his gloves and jacket and left the bridge, the second officer explained, My shift is completed, Mr. Gundersen. Is my presence required? Gundersen thought for a moment and told him, Id like you to help make preparations to drop the second devise. He hesitated, then asked, The same as we did near Saint Tropez? Correct. How much time do we have?
Gundersen asked, How long before we reach this spot? He handed the second officer a small crumpled piece of paper with a series of numbers and letters scribbled on it. The officer entered the coordinates into one of the navigation computers. After a few seconds he replied, One hour, twenty minutes, sir. Then thats how much time you have. Would you like us to change course for that destination? Yes. And stop the ship when we arrive. He added, I want the drop to be quick, and then well be on our way. The chief officer glanced at the second officer for a moment, then asked Gundersen, What if were asked by the authorities why weve deviated and stopped? Gundersen shrugged. Report that we had a loose crane motor and that we stopped outside the shipping lane for a quick repair. The second officer began to mention, The broken motor has already been repaired... Gundersen shot him a look. Butwell go ahead and fix it again, sir. Gundersen nodded. Good. When Captain Bergstedt arrives, let him know Im in the navigation room. Aye, sir. Gundersen stepped through a door at the rear of the bridge and entered the chart room. There, he seated himself at a small console. In front of him was a large tablet computer and a Bluetooth keyboard, both of which he knew operated separately from the ships network. Gundersen opened a new file and thought for a long moment. He then typed in a name for the file: Paper Tiger. After staring into the screen for a few minutes, he began to compose a brief message. When he had finished, he read over it once and hit save. He then read it one last time:
A Warning to the nations. People of the world, you have been kept blind by your leaders, seeing things as if through a dark glass. Soon, however, you see things clearly, as if face to face. The Creator separated the nations for mankind, and for a divine purpose. As the nations of the world continue to ignore this and as they work blindly to unite themselves one to another, the power of evil increases. We call upon the nations to turn from wickedness, to close your borders to outsiders, and to keep your languages, cultures, and traditions from mingling with those of the world. Only then, will the evil one be kept at bay. Only then will peace and prosperity come to us all. Heed these words, for the time is at hand. On August 1 st , the world saw Tokyo crippled. Tonight, New York City. Soon, the Mediterranean nations, then the California Coast and onward until the world learns the truth and turns from its wicked ways. The United Nations and the European Community must be banished, the international space station must be abandoned, the Olympics games must be halted, and all attempts to further the cause of a united world must be stopped before all hope for peace is lost. May the nations come to remember this evenings events as being the catalyst for a new beginning, a time of hope, and a call to faith. After 11:00 p.m. tonight, the floodwaters will come. A city will fall and many will be lost. But from darkness will come light. From chaos will come order. From death will come life anew. The Skilja.
As he finished reading, Gundersen heard a tap at the door and looked over to see Captain Peter Bergstedt entering. Is everything all right? the captain asked. Gundersen closed the file and let Bergstedt know, It will be after tonight. In the meantime, we have work to do. Bergstedt nodded. I see weve changed course. Yes, and for good reason. Gundersen stood and stepped over to the navigation table, which featured a large illuminated digital map of the world. Using the controls, he tapped at the screen and zoomed in
on the New York area. He then pointed to a spot in the Atlantic about thirty miles or so east of Brick, New Jersey. Do you know what this is? he asked. Bergstedt shrugged. It appears to be an undersea trench of some kind. Yes. This, my friend, is the Hudson Shelf Valley, and the target spot for the second device. Bergstedt looked at Gundersen, then back at the map. What is the depth there? Gundersen grinned. Only 120 feet. Bergstedt studied the map for a minute. How did you decide on this spot, if I may ask? Gundersen pointed out a vast undersea canyon, which defined the outer edge of the continental shelf extending north from the New Jersey coast, then making a near right-angle bend at the prehistoric river mouth of the Hudson. This wedge you see here is known as the New York bight. Its physical, biological, and hydrodynamic characteristics are extraordinary. He pointed to the area at the right- angle of the bight and explained, All along here, the water drops quite sharply from a depth of only 240 feet to over 3000. Bergstedt nodded. Quite a drop. Yes. But this wedge formation, Ive learned, is what concerns the experts. It is believed that a powerful storm, such as a precisely placed hurricane, could create a strong surge along this formation to the west, laterally along the southern coast of Long Island and straight into Lower New York Bay. He placed his finger on the location of the bay on the map. Do you know what that would mean, Peter? Bergstedt looked again at the map. In the right conditions, this wedge formation would leave little outlet for the surge, which, I believe, would lead to widespread flooding. Correct. Has this ever occurred? Yes, once, but that was 128 years ago. The surges from that storm, however, reached over thirty feet.
Bergstedt drew a breath and asked, Are we expecting a hurricane, Bjorn? No, Peter. But we can certainly expect an undersea earthquake. He looked at Bergstedt and pointed out, Under the right conditions: an incoming tide, a low pressure system, and westerly winds, I would anticipate seeing Central Park under at least twenty feet of water. Perhaps more. Bergstedt seemed shocked by that. That would be more of a tidal wave than a surge. Perhaps. Bergstedt thought for a moment and asked, Are you sure, Bjorn, that this is what we want to Yes, Im sure. This is the time and everything is lined up for us. We have the device ready to place. We have the perfect weather system, the right winds, and tonight, an unusually high tide. Tonight? Yes, my friend, tonight we proceed with the plan. He studied Bergstedt for a long moment and asked, Can I count on you, Peter? Bergstedt thought for a moment. To be truthful, Im concerned about the potential death toll. Gundersen looked down. So am I, but I am convinced that the actual number of deaths will be quite low. He looked at the map and zoomed in on the metropolitan area. Pointing to lower Manhattan, he explained, Most of the affected area will be business and industrial, and the flooding will occur late at night when these businesses are closed. A great percentage of the residents here live in tall buildings, which should be safe. He walked over to Bergstedt and assured him, The lives we save in the long run, in a world of peace, will far outnumber those who will be lost tonight. Bergstedt nodded. Can I count on you? Wont they come looking for us, Bjorn?
Gundersen sighed. That would be most unlikely. If they were to somehow find us, I promise to take full responsibility. You and the crew have done nothing wrong. There are hundreds of us now. After tonight, Im sure there will be many thousands of followers, but only I know the secrets and workings of the devices. No one but myself knows anything of how they are constructed, how they work, and, for the most part, what they are capable of. Am I right? Bergstedt agreed. Besides, Gundersen continued, theyll never think to look for a ship. And even if they did, there will be no evidence on board to prove anything. The device we lower into the water today is the last one. There will be no more, I promise you that. He looked Bergstedt in the eye. Are you with me? Bergstedt considered all that and replied, Yes. And the crew? Bergstedt smirked. The fools would follow you to the edge of the Earth, I believe. Gundersen smiled at that, then pointed to the tablet at the small console. Ive prepared a brief message, which will need to be sent discretely to our media contacts as well as the members of the Olympic Committee. Youll find the contact information with the message stored in a file named Paper Tiger. When would you like that sent out? Gundersen thought. One hournothirty minutes before I activate the device. That means you would send the message at exactly 10:30 p.m. After that, be certain to delete the file and toss the tablet overboard. When do you intend to explain your plan to the crew? I will meet with them before I leave the ship tonight. Where will you be going? While the Agnes Ann is being unloaded, Emerald and I will take the chopper to a landing platform on the East River. At the appropriate time, well fly over the site of the device, activate it using a remote radio signal, and then land ourselves back on the ship. By then,
you and the crew will be well underway and outside of the danger zone. Bergstedt nodded and looked away. Are you all right, Peter? Yes. This is justa bit much to grasp, but Im all right. Gundersen patted Bergstedt on the shoulder. Sometimes, my friend, the most effective action requires great boldness. I know, but its hard to understand Dont worry, Gundersen assured him, everything will soon be as clear as a bell. At that, he turned and left the room. Bergstedt looked down at the map of New York City and drew a weary breath. The moment when everything becomes clear as a bell, he thought, is usually the same moment you realize youre screwed.
-PART V New York City
When you see a rattlesnake poised to strike, you do not wait until he has struck to crush him. ~Franklin D. Roosevelt
Chapter 31
I awoke, not from the constant rumbling noise of the propellers, but from the lack of it. I listened carefully and realized the drive system had been disengaged and the ship was drifting slowly to a stop. Emerald was still lying on top of my left side with my arm wedged tightly under her ribcage. She apparently hadnt moved all night and was still breathing the same subtle sleep breathswhich was better than snoring. It was still dark outside, but I could see an occasional snowflake passing by my small portal so I was pretty sure we werent in the Bahamas. I tried gently wiggling my arm out from under Emerald, but she was positioned in such a way that Id have to roll her to the side or use some kind of leverage to free myself. After lying there a few minutes, my arm started feeling numb and a tingling sensation in my fingertips told me the circulation to my hand was cut off. Just as I was about to shove her off to the side, she took a deep breath and gently repositioned herselfjust in time to save my hand from decomposing. Quickly, I rolled out of the bed and started pulling my clothes on. As I dressed myself, I heard the sound of the drive system engaging and I felt a slight forward inertia as we began moving again. I stepped outside and looked around. The sky above was black and starless, snow was falling, and a steady westerly wind chilled me to the bone. On the deck below, I spotted one of the deck officers who I recognized as the second mate. In a low voice I called down to him as he strolled by, Hey! Why did we stop? He looked up at me for a moment and replied, We had to make a repair to one of the crane motors. Its all fixed now. I thought that was repaired already. So did I, he said and then continued on his way. I walked around to the other side of the ship and noticed the lights of a city in the far distance. This, I knew, had to be New York and I figured from this distance wed reach the harbor within a few hours.
I headed down to the mess where I found some of the crew sitting around, along with Bjorn Gundersen. As I walked in, I noticed that their chattering came to a sudden halt. Up early, arent we? Gundersen asked me. I saw he was holding an empty shot glass in front of him, which I thought was kind of late for last night and a little early for today. I heard the ship come to a stop, I said. The silence was enough to wake the dead. Gundersen made no comment. I pursued that further. I understand the crane motor broke again. Is that why we stopped? The crew glanced over at Gundersen, who let me know, Well, its fixed now. This bugged me. On the ship I was just a passenger, but I was supposed to be the number two man on the Skiljas totem pole. Nonetheless, I sensed that the guy whose job it was to refill the toilet paper dispensers knew more about what was going on here than I did. I poured myself a cup of coffee and stood near a space heater while the men went back to chattering. They were speaking Swedish, mostly, but I suspected they were discussing where to go to find replacement prostitutes. Maybe they should look for a new cook while theyre at it. Better yet, they should try finding prostitutes who also know their way around a kitchen. Anyway, I didnt feel overly welcome, so I refilled my cup and stepped out on the deck where I watched the falling snow drift by for a minute. After that, I headed back to my room. Emerald was still asleep, so I slipped into the small bathroom where I first showered myself, then stepped over to the sink to shave. As I lathered up, Emerald tapped at the door and squeezed in. She was still naked, and gave me a hug from behind while I was hunched over. As she sat herself down to pee, I pointed to my cup and offered, Coffee?
To my surprise, she smiled up at me, then grabbed the cup and took a couple of long swigs. After that, she cleared her throat and let out a loud belch, then looked up at me again and giggled. Well, good morning! I told her. She giggled again. As cute as all this was, I couldnt imagine a woman like Michelle Fontaine performing so much as one step of that routine. Not in front of me, anyway. In the bathroom light, I noticed that Emerald looked a lot less enticing than she did last night. Of course, that may have had something to do with my now being able to make out all the spooky details of her tattoos. Also, I felt like Id fully satisfied my dark little fantasy of having sex with a woman of low caliber, so I could mark that shameful accomplishment off my bucket list. At least now I could look at a woman like this and say, Been there, done that. While I continued shaving, Emerald went out and dressed, then excused herself and left to her room. I finished dressing and decided to walk upstairs to the top of the bridge castle. Once there, I stood leaning against the forward rail and took a look around. Ahead in the distance, I could see the lights of the city which were much more distinct and clearer now than they were earlier. I looked behind and could see the faint pre-dawn light beginning to glow on the far horizon. I breathed in the fresh salty air. As much as I enjoyed being at sea, I was looking forward to the unique aromas of the city, especially those of the savory pizzerias and falafel stands as well as the appetizing curry kitchens and musty Irish pubs. I was looking forward to solid ground, traffic jams, and crowded streets. More than anything though, I was looking forward to seeing Michelle once again. After last night, I thought, I will never stray again. A few minutes later, I heard the sound of footsteps and turned to see Bjorn Gundersen approaching. He stood at the rail beside me for a minute or so and then commented, Youve found my favorite spot, Van Essen.
Its beautiful up here. He nodded. After another awkward pause he said to me, Sorry about the way that went earlier, in the mess. I shook my head. Its just that the men arent ready to accept you yet. He added, They just need time. I made no reply to that, so Gundersen continued, After tonight, though, things will be different, Thing will be better. Hows that? What happens tonight? He seemed to consider that for a few seconds, then told me, Ive written a message to the people of the world. It the message, I described basically what we, the Skilja, believe in. I described how the world needs to turn from evil and turn from all plans of unifying. He paused and then added, Its a call for peace. How nice. Of course, that would have sounded more genuine if it had been spoken by someone who hadnt spent the last few days drinking bourbon, stabbing his ex-partner in the gut, and terrorizing the crew. I asked him, Who are you planning to send it to? The worlds governments? God no. Theyre the main problem. He looked at me and explained, Im having the message sent to all the news media and social networks we can find. That way, the message will reach the people. That seemed harmless. Do you think theyll listen? He drew a deep breath. Theyd better. I was about to ask, Or what? when Gundersen turned and headed back downstairs. I waited a few minutes before I followed him. By sunrise, the Agnes Ann had received harbor privileges and entered the waters of the Lower Bay. Soon, we passed under the immense Verrazano-Narrows Bridge and sailed through the narrows into New York Bay. From there, we sailed north until we reached the Red Hook Container Terminal, which was located in West Brooklyn directly across from Governors Island.
I didnt see the Governor anywhere on his island, but I did look across to the money side of the river where I saw the endless rows of majestic skyscrapers. Even though it was freezing cold and snowing, it felt good to be back in America. This was the land of milk and honey, the home of cheeseburgers and warehouse stores and big cars. I couldnt wait to get my feet on dry land. Even snow covered land would do. A tugboat arrived on the scene, and expertly shoved us into the correct spot. Once wed docked, the whole deck department suddenly snapped out of their semi-comatose state and came alive. They began marching onto the deck carrying tools and rigging like they were on a mission from God. While the cargo-cranes were manned and prepared for operation, I saw that a group of three men and a lady had come aboard to make an inspection. I kept to myself, but I could see that the lady and one of the men were dressed in dark Port Authority uniforms, which were not too flattering. They were greeted by one of the deck officers and taken straight to the bridge. Their job, I assumed, was to review the cargo information, bills of lading, and the crews various documents. This would include things like passports, work permits, and such. In the shipping industry, the Port Authority officers were charged with being the sole line of defense in preventing such things as unclaimed firearms, escaped fugitives, international terrorists, weapons of mass destruction, and the bodies of recent murder victims from being brought into the country. Like any of that would ever happen. The other two characters that came aboard were dressed in all black and seemed to be with harbor security. Or maybe the mob. They also seemed to know Bjorn Gundersen quite well. One of them was a huge powerful-looking guy with a shaved head, no sense of humor, and neck like a gorilla. The other fellow looked more like a part-time male modelthe type who might slip into regular-guy clothes and visit cargo ships while between photo shoots. He had long hair, a five oclock shadow at eight a.m., and was wearing expensive-looking sunglasses even though it was completely overcast. From the rail, I watched as the stevedores and dock workers on the pier made preparations for unloading the containers from the ship
using a massive portainer crane and other equipment. The snow has stopped, but I could tell that the wind and cold werent going anywhere. After a few minutes, I heard voices from behind me and turned to see Gundersen approaching with the two men from harbor security. Gundersen called to me, Craig, Id like to meet two associates of mine. He walked up to where I was standing and gestured to gorilla neck, who I now noticed stood almost a foot taller than me. Allow me to introduce my long-time friend, Luis Lacorde. While Luis and I shook, I felt a couple of my knuckles crack. Gundersen then introduced me to Mr. Hollywood. And this is Diego. He patted young Diego on the back and added, I would trust him with my life. From the looks of him, I didnt think Id trust him with even my hair gel. But maybe I was prejudging the guy. Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Then again, no. Gundersen then let me know, Luis has been a great asset to me, as well as the Skilja. He has inside contacts with people who will provide you with all new identification. He explained, By this, I mean a new social security number, an authentic passport, and a new driver licenseall of the highest quality. Luis spoke up and assured me, Our stuff isnt cheap, but what we make is impossible to distinguish from the real thing. Somehow, I doubted that. I turned to Gundersen and mentioned, What about the passports we received in Rome? They looked good to me. They were good enough for us at the time, he told me, but they could be proven to be fakes if analyzed by an expert. I see. Gundersen went on, With your new identification, you could start a new life, my friend. He explained, I hope, of course, that you will choose to stay with the Skilja and work with us on our quest. Nonetheless, I want you to know you are free to go and live your life as you wish.
It sounded almost as if I was being laid-off, but I wasnt going to walk away after all Id been through. Not yet, anyway. I told Gundersen, I appreciate that, Bjorn, but I plan to stay on for a while longer. I grinned and added, Consider it a debt of gratitude. He grinned in return and gave me a solid whack on the back which almost made me cough up my coffee. Excellent! He then turned to Luis and instructed him, Take Mr. Van Essen to your people and provide him with everything he needsand spare no expense. He added, He is my most trusted ally. Ha. My old CIA instructors would be so proud of me. Diego stayed behind, perhaps so his hair wouldnt become flat, while Luis and I left the ship and headed to his car, a black Cadillac Escalade. Before I could buckle up, Luis hit the gas and we peeled out of the parking lot and headed into the jungle. Brooklyn, that is. Being the Presidents Agent, I should always be ready with a quick answer for any suspicious foe who might be wary of my intensions. Nonetheless, I was really hoping that Luis Lacorde and his friends wouldnt be asking me too many questions or probing for information. Luis asked, So, Craig, how the hell do you know Bjorn Gundersen? He turned and glanced at me as he drove. Youre not a spy are you? I laughed, which was now my standard response and modus operandus to that line of question. I then asked, Why would anyone want to spy on Bjorn? Whats he got to hide? Luis also laughed, which may have been his standard response, too. Are you shitting me? He has more skeletons in his closet than a priest in Boys Town. He looked over at me again. I was keeping my eyes on the road since Luis wasnt, and I told him, To answer your first question, I met Gundersen in Switzerland. We were inmates. He smiled, but I could tell he was genuinely surprised by that. Before he could start questioning me about that, I asked him, Do you know anything about a friend of Bjorns, a woman named Emerald?
He looked over at me yet again, and this time wasnt smiling. Tell me that crazy bitch is not on that ship. So you know her? He first chuckled, then came right out and asked, You didnt fuck her, did you? I didnt answer that, which sort of answered that. He shook his head, then joked, Just so you know, shes rated E for everyone. I half-smiled at that while I wondered what I was rated. Maybe I was a G, like, for general audiences. After a few minutes, Luis hit the brakes hard and pulled into a bleak-looking industrial area filled with rows of old dilapidated warehouses that were lined up one after the other. Soon, Luis arrived at the loading dock of one and stopped. He looked around for a moment, then pressed a garage door opener on his dash. I watched as the large rollup door slowly opened. As soon as it had opened high enough, Luis hit the gas and barreled through as he pressed the button again, closing the door behind him. I looked around at the rusted I-beams and broken out windows everywhere. Nice place youve got here. Thanks. I have a cleaning lady that comes in once a yearkeeps the place neat as a pin. Luis continued to the far end of the long building where he stopped and got out. As I climbed out, Luis asked me, Are you nervous? Not any morenow that youve stopped driving. He smiled at that and told me, I like you Van Essen. I hope you live longer than most of Gundersens friends. I chuckled, though I wasnt sure if he was joking or not. I looked around at the inside of the dark, cavernous building and was reminded of something Id learned from an older agent Id once worked with. Hed warned me, The further you get yourself into a mission, the further youll find yourself from that warm fuzzy comfort zone where you started. Right now, that comfort zone existed only as a distant memory of a faraway place.
And it was moving further from me every minute.
Chapter 32
In under an hour, Luis Lacordes crack team of business associates has whipped up for me a new biometric passport, a genuine-looking New York driver license, and a Social Security cardlaminated. His associates actually turned out to be his two brothers, Ellis and Max. Like Luis, both of them were over six-foot and it looked like they all worked out in the same gym, though I had the feeling that Luis was the head of the Lacorde crime family. Ellis, who appeared to be the youngest one, told me the IDs were guaranteed to be as good as the real thing. I asked him how that guarantee worked. He thought that was cute and assured me, Basically, pal, if any of your IDs are discovered to be fake and you tell the authorities where you got them, well find you and kill you. Guaranteed. They all thought that was funny. Anyway, we were finished, so Luis and I went back to the car and left the warehouse. As we drove away, Luis asked me, Where to? I wasnt expecting that, so I thought for a second and told him, Id like to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. Can you drop me off near there? Walk? What the hell do you want to walk for? I can drive you across. I just got off a ship after six days at sea. Believe me, Luis; a walk would do me good. Whatever floats your boat. On that subject he asked me. You know how to get back to the ship? I think Ill manage. I wouldnt be late if I were you. Gundersen said hes addressing the crew tonight, and he expects everyone to be there. Including you and Diego?
We wouldnt miss it. Were both curious to see what the crazy bastards got planned. They werent the only ones, I thought. From the Flatbush Avenue extension, Luis turned left onto Tillary Street. After a couple of blocks, he pulled over in front of an AT&T phone store. He pointed to a walkway positioned in the center of the upcoming intersection and informed me, Thats the Brooklyn Bridge Promenade right there. Go knock yourself out. Thanks, Luis. I appreciate the lift. I climbed out of the car and started walking to the intersection. Once I had the signal to walk, I headed straight for the promenade. From the corner of my eye, I saw Luis pull away from the curb and drive off. I continued to the promenade entrance and stopped. There, I stood for a long moment and took in a deep breath of frigid New York air. To me, it was a long- awaited breath of freedom, having been surrounded by Gundersen and his goons for the past week. It was a relief to finally be alone and out from under the microscope. I waited a full minute to be sure that Luis was far enough away and then headed back to the phone store. There, I walked in and was greeted at the door by a young woman who had a big smile, big- rimmed glasses, and a big set oflungs. In her hands she was holding a big tablet. Good morning. Can I help you, sir? I hope so, I replied. Id like to call someone here in Brooklyn. Do you have a phone I can use for about two minutes? Uhwe have cell phones on display, but theyre not really for making calls. Did you want to buy one? If I have to, I guess so. Which type of phone would you like? I dont know. I pointed to the first cell phone I saw. Does that one sound clear when youre talking to someone? She shrugged. I think so. Can I call someone to try it outjust to see if the sound quality is okay?
She glanced around and saw that her co-workers were busy. I guess that would be okay, like, for a quick call. I smiled. Thanks. She stepped a few feet away for a moment while I dialed a local number. After a few rings, a young woman picked up. Hello? Paige? Is that you? Mr. Van Essen? Where are you? Are you okay? Believe it or not, Paige, Im in Brooklyn and, no, Im not okay. Im freezing my butt off. Are you shitting me? Im serious. Its so cold that the Starbucks on the corner is serving coffee on a stick. I saw the store clerk hold back a grin. Paige seemed to think about that for a moment. No, I mean, like, what are you doing in New York? Did you finish your spy mission? I made a deep, groaning sound like I was about to cough up my gall bladder. Im not a spy, remember? Im a security analyst. Oh yeah. What happened to your friend Bjorn? Are you guys still a team? I wouldnt say that, but he and I just arrived here by ship. Its a big cargo vessel named the Agnes Ann, and its being unloaded down at the Red Hook Container Terminal right now. A cargo ship? There must be a story there. I made no reply, so she asked, Have you called your girlfriend yet? If you mean Michelle, I plan to call her next. Im flattered that you thought of me first. Youre my professional assistant, remember? Does that mean I still have a job? As long as you dont tell people Im a spy, then yeah.
Good. Ive been bored out of my mind since I left Italy. What do you need me to do, boss? I just need you to be available and keep your phone handy. Just in case. In case what? I considered that for a few seconds and then let her know, I have a feeling something major is going down tonight. Just what that is, I dont know, but I intend to find out. Do you want me to come meet you or? Not now, and dont go anywhere near the ship unless I call for you. Understand? I heard her sigh. Yes, Mr. Van Essen. Good. Ill contact you again this afternoon and update you. All right? All right, she replied, and then asked, Do you still have the little transmitter thing we took out of your friends phone? I reached my hand into my jacket pocket and there it was. Yeah, why? I still have the radio direction finder contraption that I stole in Riomaggiore, and You kept that? Well, I wasnt going to leave it in Italy. If need be, I could use that to find you. Just be sure to turn it on. Thats not going to be necessary, I assured her. Just be near your phone in case I need something. Yes, Mr. Van Essen. And Paige What? These are dangerous people were dealing with. Dont start messing around near that ship, okay? Okay.
Ill call you this afternoon. Okay. In the meantime, you should call Michelle. I will, if you let me off the phone. Promise me youll try to get laid, all right? Why do you say that? I asked. You sound tense, Craig, plus you were on a ship for a week. Im sure cargo ships dont have any women on board. Obviously, shed never taken a spin on the Agnes Ann. I cleared my throat and asked, Why do you always have to talk about sex? I dont know, but youre a lot nicer person after youve gotten some. Promise to try, all right? Right. I promise to have sex. Now goodbye. I ended the call, then looked over at the sales girl who now looked blushed. She smiled awkwardly and asked, Umdid it sound okay? It sounded great, I told her, but Id like to test it one more time. At that, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a hundred. I glanced around for a second or two before discretely handing it to her. She seemed surprised by that, but then grabbed the bill. Go right ahead and try another call, sir. Thanks. I dialed Michelles apartment. As the phone rang, I thought about the last time I saw her. I thought about her innocent eyes, her perfect skin, and her beautiful face, and I realized how much Id missed her. In that same moment, the memory of my night with Emerald suddenly flashed through my mind. I could see the look of lust in her eyes, the devilish tattoos covering her naked body, and her long blonde hair dangling in my face while we used each other. I looked down at the phone for a few seconds, and then ended the call. I placed it back on its display rack and thanked the sales girl before I stepped outside. I took a deep breath before I headed back to the promenade where I began the long walk over the Brooklyn Bridge.
I needed to stretch my legs, that was for sure, but I also needed some time to cleanse my mind. I felt dirty, which was something I wasnt used to. To be honest, I was ashamed of all the lustful thoughts and feelings Id had latelynot only for Emerald, but for young Feli, too. As I walked, I wondered how committed I should be to Michelle Fontaine. After all, wed only known each other a short time, and we had only spent one night together. Still, I knew in my heart that I wanted to spend more time with her. In truth, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I wasnt sure how Michelle felt about me, or if shed be willing to wait for me until the Presidents term in office was completed. There was no commitment spoken between us, only the look in each others eyes and a feeling between us that could not be described. In my heart, I was sorry Id allowed myself to be unfaithful to her and I wondered if Id ever forgive myself. One thing was for sure: it was never going to happen again. * * * From a distance, Luis focused his binoculars as he watched Craig walking in the direction of the bridge. Once he was sure that he was far enough away, Luis got out of his car and walked over to the phone store. Once there, he walked in and was greeted at the door by a young woman holding a tablet. Good morning. Can I help you, sir? Yes maam. He showed her his security badge and asked, Can you tell me if that man that was just in here used one of your phones? Excuse me? He repeated himself. Did the man that was just in here ask to use a phone? She hesitated, then pointed to the display. He used that one. Thanks. Luis put his badge back in his pocket and stepped over to the phone. He tapped at the screen for a moment and quickly navigated to the call log screen. He saw the last call made was to
somewhere in east Manhattan. He pulled out his own phone and entered the number in his memos. The sales girl asked, Is everything okay? Was that guy, like? A criminal? Luis asked. Thats what Im trying to find out. He looked back at the phone and saw that the first call Van Essen had made was to a phone located in Brooklyn. He saved that number as well, then thanked the sales girl before he left. Outside, he thought for a few seconds, then stepped around the corner and looked out at the promenade. In the distance, he could see Van Essen, and could see that he was still walking in the direction of the bridge. He pulled his phone back out and pressed one of the speed- dial keys. Seconds later, his brother Ellis answered, Whats up? Im following our friend, Craig Van Essen. Anything suspicious? I dont know, Luis answered, but I dont trust the guy. He told Ellis, I want you to find out what you can about a couple of calls he just made. You have the numbers? Yeah. Luis recited the numbers from his phone and told Ellis, Call me back when you find out who he called, understand? Yeah. What are you going to do? Luis exhaled sharply and replied, Im going to follow the bastard.
Chapter 33
The walk did me good, at least mentally. Physically, though, I was freezing and worried that I might wind up with pneumonia. Plus I was starving. Oddly, there were no falafel stands, hot dog vendors, or even a coffee shop on the bridge, so I figured I could always start one of those businesses if this Presidents agent thing doesnt work out. I took the walk ramp all the way down to Center Street, which is one of several streets here in the quaint, rural hamlet known as Manhattan Island. I passed City Hall Park and headed north for a while until I spotted a taxi near Foley Square. It was one of those bright yellow Nissan NV200 cabs that are hard to miss. I hailed it down. The driver pulled over and I hopped in. Through the intercom I told him, Take me to Lexington and 46 th Street. I was going to say please after that, but I didnt want to sound like I was from out-of- town. The driver hit the gas while I went straight for the heater controls, cranking the temperature all the way up. While I sat back and enjoyed the blast furnace, I glanced around at the interior. It appeared clean and was surprisingly roomy with a flat floor and lots of legroom. It also featured a transparent roof panel so you could look up and see the skyscrapers. Maybe an occasional jumper. There was also a small TV screen mounted on the panel behind the drivers seat, which was turned to an all-news station. I watched for about two minutes, my personal tolerance limit for that, then clicked to the camera shot of the driver. As soon as I saw him, I wanted to switch back to the news. According to the permit posted above the TV, his name was Yousef. He had a long beard, bags under his eyes, a big nose, and sunken facial features. In fact, he looked like a talent scout for a cemetery. Using the intercom, I told him, Nice cab. He glanced over at the camera on the dash and nodded in agreement. New York has the best taxis, doesnt it? He nodded again and added, And the best drivers. I let out a laugh. Thats a good one.
He glanced at the camera and appeared confused. I asked, Where are you from, Yousef? I am originally from Pakistan, sir. I am new to this country. I nodded. Welcome to America. Thank you, sir. He paused for a moment as he performed a tricky lane change, then managed a joke, Most people tell me, Welcome to Americanow go home. I chuckled at that. How do you like New York so far? So far, so good, he replied, with a thick accent. The new mayor is really cleaning up the streets. Really? Yes. In fact, the murder rate in the city is at a thirty-year low. Wow. With rates that low, just about anyone can afford a murder. He glanced over at the camera while he thought about that, and then finally smiled. Veddy funny, sir. Once wed reached Astor Place, Yousef turned right for a short distance, then left again onto 3 rd Avenue. Around us, we were surrounded by tall buildings which cast further darkness over the already dim streets. I could tell that Yousef had a keen sense of humor, so I asked him, Do you know how many New Yorkers it takes to build a skyscraper? No, sir. How many? None o your business. He let that roll around in his head for a while, then said, Im afraid I do not understand, sir. You will, I assured him. In time you will. As we approached 45 th street, I looked ahead and could see that traffic was at a standstill. We were only a block from Michelles apartment, so I told Yousef, Pull over here. He pulled to the curb and I paid him the fare plus a decent tip. As I started walking, I spotted a coffee shop on the corner and stopped for
a moment to thank God. I went inside where I took a good whiff. I could smell coffee, of course, plus the aroma of sizzling bacon, fried sausage, and other forms of animal blubber and food byproducts. I didnt have time for any of that, so I purchased a bagel and a large coffee. I thought about buying one for Michelle, too, but remembered she was a fashion model and that something as simple as a bagel could put an end to her career. Besides, Id probably eat it myself before I made it to her apartment. I took a few sips of my brew, then grabbed my bagel and went back outside. Already, the hot coffee was crossing my blood/brain barrier and I could feel myself beginning to perk up. This was important, especially considering that the next phase of my assignment would include a quick rendezvous with Michelle. I still considered Miss Fontaine to be a key part of this mission and I was glad I was the Presidents Agent. That meant I didnt have to explain that to any supervisors or review boards. A few doors down from the coffee shop I spotted a florist, and I stopped in to pick up a single long-stem rose, which I planned to give to Michelle as a reminder of our time together in Vatican City. After that, I crossed the street and continued toward Lexington Avenue. In front of one of the apartment buildings, I noticed a doorman wearing a long overcoat and gloves. He was standing there with a bored look on his face. Or maybe hed frozen to death during the night and nobody had noticed yet. It happens here. The TV news program Id watched in the taxi reported on how the looming threat of a New York City doormen's strike had been averted at the last minute. I guess the doormen realized that going on strike would actually require more work than what they're doing now. Anyway, I downed the rest of my coffee and took a few bites of my bagel, which was delicious, and kept walking. Soon, I arrived at Lexington. Across the street I saw a few police cars pulled over with their lights flashing and I could hear the siren of an ambulance in the distance as it headed this way. This explained all the traffic. I walked partway up the street and realized that the place with all the commotion also happened to be Michelles apartment building. Right then, a bad feeling came over me. I tossed the bagel, the rose, and the
empty coffee cup and made my way through the line of cars to the building entrance. A small crowd had formed, and everyone stepped back as the ambulance arrived. An NYPD cop was at the door and appeared to be busy monitoring who was coming and going. I also saw a doorman inside, and he was speaking with an elderly woman who seemed concerned about whatever it was that was happening. I poked my head in the door just as the doorman and the woman ended their conversation and I waved him over. As he approached, I saw his nametag and asked, What happened here, Douglas? Im sorry, sir, but I cant discuss anything about that right now. I pulled a fifty out of my pocket and held it out. Can I go up to my girlfriends apartment? Douglas glanced at the money and let me know, Sorry pal, I cant allow anyone in or out. Youll have to speak to the officer. He nodded to the cop on the sidewalk. As I slid the bill back into my pocket he asked, Whos your girlfriend? Michelle Fontaine. He appeared a bit startled by that and told me, Youd better come with me. The two of us stepped over to the cop on the sidewalk, and Douglas explained to the officer who I was here to see. This, of course, wasnt a good sign. Has something happened to her? I asked. Whats going on? The cop asked me, Whats your girlfriends room number? 1404. He looked me over for a moment and then said, Okay. Lets see some ID. I pulled out my brand new driver license and handed it to the officer. He looked at it for a minute and then spoke a few words into his radio. During this, the ambulance team hurried by us with a gurney and a couple of emergency equipment bags. A few seconds later, I heard some indiscernible chatter come over the cops radio speaker. He listened and made a quick reply, then looked at me and said, Sir, I
need you to take the elevator straight to room 1404. They want to talk to you. Who? He was about to answer that, but then stopped himself and simply said, Just go. Obviously, something terrible had happened. I took a deep breath and went through the doors, then headed straight for the elevators. When one of the doors opened, I stepped inside and pressed the button for the 14 th floor. I felt my heart sink even further as the elevator began its ascent and I found myself already breathing hard. After what seemed like a long time, the elevator reached the correct floor and a bell dinged while the doors slowly opened. As I stepped out into the corridor, I could tell right away where the apartment was. Standing out in the hall, I saw a short, stout-looking woman. She appeared visibly shaken and was giving a report to a female police officer. As I approached, the officer looked over at me. Before she could ask, I stopped and explained, I came to this building to visit my girlfriend, Michelle Fontaine. The officer at the door told me to come up, and that someone here would talk to me. I asked, Can you please tell me whats going on? The officer spoke a few words to the woman and then excused herself as she stepped over to me. She asked, What apartment does your girlfriend live in? This one right here. 1404. Can you describe her please? I cleared my throat. Shes Caucasian, about five-nine, one-hundred- ten pounds, long brown hair You said Caucasian? Thats right. The officer lowered her voice and explained, The housekeeper she gestured to the stout-looking ladycame into the apartment and
found a woman unconscious on the floor. But the victim didnt look Caucasian to me. She asked, Does your girlfriend have a roommate? I dont know. This is my first time to the apartment. Just then, I heard the elevator door ding and I turned to see the most beautiful sight I could imagine. Michelle. She hurried over to me and gave me a hug. Craig! When did you? She stopped herself and asked me, Whats happened? I told her, You dont know how good it is to see you. A woman was found unconscious in your apartment. Do you? Oh my God! Jasmine? The officer asked, Is she a friend or? Jasmine Ko is my roommate. Is she okay? The paramedics are inside with her now. She lowered her voice and let us know, We found a bottle of pills nearby. Michelle held her hands over her face. Oh God! I held Michelle while the officer asked a few questions. After that, Michelle went over and spoke with the housekeeper and gave her a warm hug. A few minutes later, the paramedics rushed Jasmine out of the room on the gurney. I could see that she was pale as a ghost and still unconscious, but at least the medics werent taking their time, which would have been a red flag. They hurried to the freight elevator and Michelle and I followed closely behind them. While they waited for the elevator, one of the paramedics, a young woman, asked Michelle, Are you her roommate? Michelle nodded. Which hospital is she going to? Mount Sinai, the young woman replied. She then glanced at Jasmine and asked Michelle, Isnt this Safire, the model? Michelle hesitated, then stepped forward and told her, Keep that to yourself, please. Her real name is Jasmine Ko. Just then, the elevator arrived and the large door raised open.
The young woman assured Michelle, I wont tell anyone, maam. At that, they wheeled the gurney in and pressed the button for the door to close. Once they were gone, Michelle and I walked back to her apartment. The police had a few more questions and asked Michelle and the housekeeper to contact them if they had to leave town any time soon, or if they thought of anything that might be pertinent. After theyd left, Michelle spoke with the housekeeper again for a few minutes, then thanked her, paid her for the week, and sent her home. Once that was finished, Michelle and I went into her apartment. While she rested on the couch, I helped clean up some of the mess that the paramedics had left and made us a pot of coffee. The apartment was spacious and nicely decorated in contemporary design with bright colors and funky patterns. After a while, I brought Michelle her coffee and sat next to her on the couch. She leaned over to me and I held her close. I cant believe she did that, Michelle said, But I shouldnt be too surprised. What do you mean? She thought for a minute and explained, Ive worked with Jasmine for a couple of years already, but shes only been my roommate for, like, a month or soand for most of that time I was in Rome. She looked at me, From what Ive heard from the other girls, shes tried to kill herself before. I thought about that and asked, Did something happen in her life to make her want toyou know Michelle shrugged. Im pretty sure shes just crazy. I took a sip of my coffee and asked, Why did the paramedic woman ask if she was Safire? Thats Jasmines professional name. I guess the paramedic must have recognized her from a fashion magazine or something. Do you have a professional name? She shook her head. No. I think thats just silly.
Its not silly if your real name is something like Gretchen von Reikhausen. She let out a laugh, then sipped at her coffee. Michelle and I sat on the couch for a while, and I decided it would be best to be truthful and tell her about everything that had happened since I last saw her. This, I knew, would be a true test of our relationship, but at least I wouldnt be living a lie. With Michelle, honesty would be my policy. Of course, I skipped the part about spending the night with Feli and how she offered me a free rain check, but that she and the other prostitute died of poisoning before I could cash in on that. I also sidestepped the whole thing where I broke a guys arm before I threw him overboard. She didnt need to know about thatnor about Tjuren or Axel for that matter. Im a secret agent, so I couldnt just blab about how I suspected that my jail-break buddy Bjorn Gundersen had built some kind of weapons of mass destruction, and how I was made second in command of an organization of international terrorists. Most importantly, I made no mention of Emerald, nor did I make any reference to any members of the opposite sex whatsoever, including Paige. However, I did tell her how I saw some snow falling while we were coming into port, which she thought was interesting. It was great to be holding Michelle close and getting all this off my chest. Nonetheless, Jasmines failed suicide attempt had put a dent in my plans for the morning, and I could tell that Michelle was in no mood for romance or anything fun right now, which was understandable. At least I hadnt found another rooster in the henhouse. Of course, maybe there was a lot of shit she wasnt telling me, right? Anyway, I decided to head back to the Agnes Ann before my absence became too suspicious. As Michelle walked with me to the elevator, I let her know, I expect to be finished with my current assignment soon. Is that good? Well, I was hoping we could spend some more time together before Im given a new job, which could be anywhere.
Couldnt you request to be stationed in New York? I want to be with you more than anything, I replied, which was completely true. But I have no control of where the next assignment will be. This was true, too. Ill tell my boss that I insist on being stationed in New York. This, of course, was a complete lie. She and I rode the elevator down to the lobby. There, she entered my information into Douglass registry book. This way, hed know it was okay to let me in when I came back to visit. Id have to remember to check later to see if any other guys had made the same list. As Douglas opened the door for me to leave, a female news reporter spotted Michelle and hurried over. Behind her, one guy was holding a light, which he was shining into our faces, while a second guy was pointing a camera at us. Are you Michelle Fontaine? the reporter asked. The model? She seemed shocked by this. Yes, Im Michelle Fontaine. Why are you? Is it true that your roommate, Safire, tried to kill herself today? In your apartment? What can you tell us about that? Michelle looked at me and I told her, Dont say anything. I then gestured for her to go back upstairs while I walked past the reporter. Seeing that Michelle had ducked back inside, the reporter turned to me and asked, Are you associated with Safire in any way, sir? What can you tell us about these two models? Please, sir. Just a minute of your time. I didnt reply to that and kept walking. I headed down the street for a while until I found a subway entrance. There, I went downstairs and checked out the subway map for a minute. I then hopped on the train to 42 nd Street and Bryant Park. From there, I changed trains and rode the next one all the way to the East River, and then through the tunnel to Brooklyn. I stayed on until the train reached the Carroll Street stop, where I got out. From there, I walked for a few minutes until I spotted a private cab who agreed to take me the rest of the way to Red Hook. On the way to the ship, I thought about what I should expect tonight. Like Luis and Diego, I was curious to learn what Bjorn Gundersen had up his sleeve, and I had a feeling he was up to no good.
On the outside, it would appear that Gundersen wanted to let the world know about the Skilja and their hopes for a future of peace through national independence. On the inside, however, I believed he wanted to tell the world much more than that. He was an angry monster and wanted to send a message about his own power and the strength of his organization. He wanted to use intimidation, lies, and fear tactics to build an army of terrorists and an unbreakable chain of fanatical followers. He would force the leaders of the world to give in to his demands, while using me as part of that chain. One thing he was forgetting, however, was that no chain is stronger than its weakest link.
Chapter 34
Ellis Lacorde ended the call. He then sat back in his chair for a moment and thought about what he was just told. He turned and glanced over at the TV screen for a moment and drew a weary breath and dialed his brothers number. Luis picked up his phone and saw the caller ID. He answered, What is it? Where are you? Im pulled off to the side of 42 nd Street. Van Essen just ducked into a subway on the corner of Lexington. Ellis thought about that. Hes probably heading back to the ship. Lets hope so. Did you track down those phone numbers I gave you? Sure did. One of the numbers belonged to a chick named Michelle Fontaine. Is she anyone special? You could say that. If you Google her youll get about fifty-zillion hits. He added, She was also on TV a few minutes ago. By any chance, did that have anything to do with cops and ambulances? Yeah. Apparently, this Fontaine chick and her roommate are, like, famous models. This morning the roommate tried to kill herself with a handful of pills and was found unconscious. Uhokay, so? So the news people need a story, and you know how they always jump on that shit, Right? Anyway, the TV news showed the pill-popper being rushed out of the apartment building on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. Like you said, cops everywhere. After that, the news lady tries asking Fontaine a few questions, and she blows them off. I dont blame er. So?
So guess who they show on TV coming out of the apartment with Fontaine? Your buddy Craig Van Essen. Luis thought about that. Okay, so the mans banging a fashion model. Something wrong with that? Nothing at all. In fact, after seeing her, Id bang her tooexcept for one thing. Like, that she wouldnt be interested in a big, dumb Except that Gundersen has seen this chick before. In Rome. How do you know that? Because I just sent our friend Bjorn photos of Fontaine, and he recognized her right away. He sounded pretty pissed, too. Gundersen tells me shes been working in cahoots with Van Essen. Apparently, Van Essen has had our friend Bjorn duped this whole time. Then Van Essens a dead man. No shit. And the chicks future doesnt look too bright, either. Gundersen wants you to bring her to the ship right away. And how am I supposed to do that? Try using your charm, Ellis replied. He chuckled at that and added, Just dont try impressing her with your sense of humor. Fuck you, Ellis. Whats her apartment number? Ellis gave his brother the number and let him know, Gundersen wants her brought in alive, so dont do anything nasty. You know Id never hurt a woman. Ellis chuckled again, this time even louder. Luis asked, Did you find anything on the other phone number I gave you? Yeah. That number belongs to another chick, this one goes by the name of Paige ONeill. Whats her story? Well, youll love this: according to Gundersen, ONeill was with them in Rome and was shacked up with guess who?
Van Essen? Bingo. This ONeill chick, whos only like eighteen years-old, had our friend Bjorn believing that she was on his side. In reality, she, Van Essen, and the model were playing him like a toy puppet. Luis shook his head. What does Bjorn want to do about ONeill? He wants me to handle that. Youre not bringing her to the ship, are you? No. He just wants me to take her outand I dont think he meant on a date. Luis let out a breath and pondered all this. This shit is getting too deep too fast. Fuck Gundersen, I think we should pull out now and cut all ties. Thats what I told Max, and he said we should leave it up to you. He paused for a few seconds and added, Theres one thing, though. Whats that? Gundersen just dropped another million into our account. There was a long moment of silence before Luis finally spoke up. In that case, tell Max were in. At that, he ended the call. Without a moment of hesitation, he put the car in gear and hit the gas.
Chapter 35
Luis Lacorde parked his black Escalade far enough away, then put on a black wool cap and reading glasses before he climbed out of the car. He used a fake parking card for the meter, then headed straight to Michelle Fontaines apartment building. As he walked, he could feel a light drizzle beginning to fall and was glad his jacket was the waterproof type. At the door of the building, he flashed his security ID badge to Douglas, the doorman, and told him, Im an associate of Craig Van Essen, and I need to speak with one of your residents. Douglas nodded. Would that happen to be Miss Fontaine? Thats correct. Douglas considered that for a moment, then told Luis, Step inside. At a side table in the lobby, Douglas used a phone to dial Michelles room. After a couple of rings she picked up. Yes? Miss Fontaine? Its Douglas. I hope Im not interrupting anything. Not at all, Douglas. What is it? Well, theres a man down here who says hes an associate of Mr. Van Essen, and hed like a word with you. He added, He showed me his badge. Michelle paused to think, and then told the doorman, All right. Let me speak to him. Douglas handed the phone to Luis, who asked, Is this Miss Fontaine? This is she. Maam, Im sorry to trouble you. No trouble. How can I help you? Im an associate of Craig Van Essen. Craig and I work together and hes asked me to come speak to you. About what?
He wants you to come with me, maam. What? Why? Where is Craig? An urgent matter has come up. Mr. Van Essen is on his way to the Agnes Ann as we speak. We are The Agnes Ann? Is that the ship? Yes, maam. Were to rendezvous with Mr. Van Essen there. Id like us to leave as soon as possible. He added, I have a car close by. Whats the urgent matter? What has happened? Im not sure I can discuss the details of that with you, maam, but I can tell you that Craig is worried more about your safety. Im sure hell explain everything when we reach the ship. She considered that and asked, How do I know youre who you say you are? How do I know if youre actually Craigs associate? He gave me your phone number, Miss Fontaine. Luis recited the number to her, then added, He also told me that your roommate was found unconscious in your apartment this morning, and that it was quite a scare for you. He paused and added, I hope shes going to be okay. I hope so, too, Michelle replied. Who is it that you and Craig work for anyway? The FBI, or? Im not at liberty to answer that maam. Perhaps you should ask Mr. Van Essen that question. He wont tell me, either. I have to assume youre with the CIA or something. Luis made no reply. Michelle thought about this for a long moment. Finally, she exhaled slowly and told Luis, Damn it. Ill be right down.
Chapter 36
Years ago, when I first started with the CIA, I was paired with an older fellow who was supposed to show me the ropes. Like most agents his age, he had seen too much over the years. By the time he got to me, he had become world weary and cynical, which could only be expected. He did, however, manage to hold on to his wry sense of humor. I remember him telling me, The statistics on sanity are not good. He explained, According to the experts, one out of every four Americans is suffering from some form of mental illness. Think of three people you know. If they seem okay, then it's you. I took a moment to consider that. To me, Michelle Fontaine seemed perfectly normal, but her roommate Jasmine Ko, or Safire as she was known, was obviously out to lunch and needed to be either placed in an institution or sent back to wherever she was fromif theyd take her. Luis Lacorde seemed okay, other than being a Neanderthal. Still, I wouldnt be at all surprised if he knew off the top of his head the precise location of a few shallow graves or had a glass jar hidden somewhere with someones brains in it. Most importantly, at least to me, was the fact that Bjorn Gundersens cheese had slid off his cracker and he was now on the whiskey train to Neverland. The driver dropped me off at the security gate and I paid him. There, the guards checked my ID, then called the Agnes Ann to be sure I was still on their list of invited guests before letting me through. The cold wind was still blowing. As I made the long march to the ship I looked and could see that about half the containers of cargo had been unloaded. Interestingly, when you transport something by car, it's called a shipment, but when you transport something by ship, it's called cargo. Anyway, as I got closer to the ship I began thinking about what might be in store. I had a feeling that tonight would prove to be a pivotal point in the mission and there were three possibilities: One, Id find that Gundersens devises have nothing to do with earthquakes, and Id have to abandon this lead altogether. Two, Id find that Gundersens devises have everything to do with earthquakes, and Id
have to kill Gundersen and confiscate the devices, or three, the shit hits the fan and everything goes to hell in a hand basket. In truth, curtain number three was most likely, but I always prefer to remain an optimist. Therefore, I was shooting for possibility number two followed shortly by number three. When I arrived at the ship, one of Gundersens guards, the chubby one with the not-so-flattering birthmark, waved me by. Once onboard, I saw Diego standing near the entryway. I noticed hed finally thought to remove his sunglassesprobably after walking into a wall or something. He looked me over for a moment, like he was sizing me up, then let me know, Gundersens up on the bridge. I nodded. As I walked by, he turned and asked, Whered you go? I looked over my shoulder and told him, Thats none of your business. I stopped and walked back to where he was standing and put my face in his. Why do you ask? To my surprise, Mr. Hollywood didnt so much as flinch, so he either had more balls than Id given him credit for or he was a moron. Nonetheless, I wasnt going to take any form of shit from him, no matter how trite. He looked me in the eye and calmly replied, Its my job to know where people areand dont get in my face when I ask questions. Starting now, its your job to stay out of my sight. I let out a grunt and then turned and headed up to the bridge. I pulled my hood down and combed my hair back with my fingers. Behind me, I heard footsteps and I had the feeling that Diego was following me. This could be good, like he was just doing his job, or bad, like I was on someones shit list and needed to be followed. I thought of first stopping at my room and grabbing my handgun, just in case, but I figured that if I actually had made the list and was now outside Gundersens circle of friends, that would be gone from there anyway. As I entered the bridge, Captain Bergstedt was on his way out and said nothing as he stepped past me. Looking out through the big front windows was Bjorn Gundersen, who also barely acknowledged my
presence. It was uncomfortably quiet for a long moment while he stood watching the crew rigging the containers and running the cranes. Finally, he glanced back in my general direction and asked, Did you have a nice time out there? I noticed that he left off the words my friend from the end of that sentence, which was unusual for him. I also noticed that he was avoiding eye contact with me, and I had a feeling that either he was plastered or I was on his shit list. Or both. I put my hands in my jacket pockets. Its freezing out there, I said, but I managed to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. He made no reply to that. Obviously, something was up and I wondered if they were on to me. Slowly, my mind was switching into self-preservation mode and ideas began flying through my mind. In my jacket pocket, I could feel the small transmitter device. Using my thumb, I turned it on. Gundersens attention was still focused on the view outside, so I reached up and discretely set the transmitter atop a sill plate over the door. Just as I did that, Gundersen turned around. His eyes were held low and he seemed not to notice that Id just placed something up there. He told me, Lets go down to the deck. Follow me. He walked past me and out the door. From the bridge, he led me through the maze of narrow corridors and down several flights of stairs. Soon, we were on the main cargo deck, which looked a lot different now with most of the containers unloaded. I could still see the lone twenty-foot container, the same one that wed left poor Tjuren and his son in, and I wondered if their bodies were still in therethough I doubted it. I was fairly sure that Tjuren and Axel were somewhere at the bottom of the deep blue sea right now, along with Isak Olstrom and my buddy Alrik. Not to mention Meli and Feli. In fact, it occurred to me that the deep blue sea was becoming crowded with corpses lately. Toward the bow, I could hear the sound of the handling crane in operation, but I couldnt see any of the crew from our position and they couldnt see us. My bad feeling about being here got worse. Just then, I felt something strike me in the back of my right knee. I dropped and turned to see Diego behind me with what looked like a
club in his hand. As I landed on my knees, I felt a second blow land across my right shoulder. This time, I lurched back in pain and saw one of the guards, the fat one, who also had a club. I gasped for air, then struggled to stand. As I did, Gundersen stepped up to me, then stooped down and punched me hard in the gut. This knocked the wind out of me and I couldnt breathe for a moment. I was hunched over, and finally dropped to my knees again. Though I was in severe pain, my mind was still in self-preservation mode. I managed to take a deep breath and pulled my right foot forward. Using what adrenaline I had, I jumped up and headed straight for Gundersen. Before he could dodge me, I managed to wrap my left arm around his neck and began beating the side of his head with my right fist as I dragged him to the deck. Suddenly, I felt one of the clubs crack into the back of my head and everything went black. In that instant, just as I let loose of Gundersens neck, I felt a sudden shock run through me like a bolt of lightning. Every muscle in my body stiffened like a board and I dropped to the deck. I felt what seemed like a knife piercing my heart and the pain was unbearable. I screamed but no sound came out. Though I was trembling and had lost all motor skills, I was fully aware of what was happening: I was being tasered. At this point, it was safe to assume Id made somebodys shit list. After what seemed like a week of Mondays, the current stopped and I felt like a puddle of goo on the floor. Gundersen was pissed, of course, and he stepped over and kicked me on the side of the head. Id been tasered before, which had been part of my CIA training, but never for as long as what I just went through. I knew that the first thing I needed to do was to get the Taser gun away from the idiot guard. From the corner of my eye, I could see him looking over at Gundersen and also spotted the thin yellow wires running from the gun to my shoulder. Quickly, I took a deep breath and rolled to my right as fast as I could. My coordination was off, but I managed to spin around and get hold of the wires. Before the guard could react, I managed to grab the wires and pull hard enough to yank the Taser gun from his hand.
That done, I staggered to my feet and started again for Gundersen. I saw a brief look of fear in his eyes as I lunged at him again. Before I got to his throat though, Diego and the guard had the clubs out and managed to beat me to the ground once again. While I lay on the deck with my head spinning, Diego placed his foot over my neck to keep me from trying anything. I saw that the fat guard had the Taser gun back in his hand, and I knew my chances of getting that thing from him again were slim. I heard Diegos phone chime. He answered the call and muttered a few words, then hung up and told Gundersen, Theyre on their way down. Gundersen nodded. He then got down on one knee and looked me in the eye for the first time since I boarded today. He snickered and let me know, You have more fight in you than I expected, Mr. Van Essenif thats your real name. Get your two goons off me, I told him, and Ill fight you man- to-man, Bjorn. He snickered again. I dont think that will be Whats wrong? Dont you have the balls? He told me, I think youve been injured enough for now, but perhaps Ill take you up on that later. There is no later, I told him. The Feds are on to you, you dumbass. He began laughing, and I heard Diego laugh along while his heel dug into my neck. Gundersen then leaned forward and said, I think you are a liar, and that I am the one who is on to you. So perhaps you are the dumbass. If I were you Bjorn, Id Shut up! he yelled. I know that you and your lady friend in Rome were working against me, so dont try to lie to me. What are you talking about? I never I told you to shut up! I saw him glance up at Diego, who stomped his foot on my head and then pressed his heel harder into my neck.
Gundersen continued, I know about Michelle Fontaine. I know that the two of you conspired together, along with the young girl, Paige. Because of you, my sister Ella is dead. I told Gundersen, We had nothing to do with that, and there is no conspiracy. Gundersen didnt seem to like hearing that, and he signaled the guard to squeeze the trigger on the Taser. My body went rigid as the current bolted through me, and I felt as though a knife was passing through my heart once again. Again I tried to scream and again nothing came out. Finally, the sadistic bastard let off the trigger and I lay there in uncontrolled spasms while gasping for air. Somehow, Gundersen thought this was amusing and laughed at me while I struggled to catch my breath. I looked up at Gundersen, who looked blurry, and told him, Michelleand Paigeare innocent. They dont know anything. Gundersen leaned closer and let me know. We know how to find your friend Paige, and the little whore will soon have her throat slit. No! She doesnt know anything! Its too late for her,he looked up behind me and grinned widelyand, apparently, it is too late for Miss Fontaine as well. Just then, I heard a womans trembling voice call to me, Craig? Is that you? Whats going on? Diego lifted his foot from my neck. I took a breath and managed to prop myself up on one elbow and turn my head. Behind me, I saw Luis, and he was holding Michelle by her hair. I also saw that he had a gun pointed to her head. This time, I didnt need a jolt from a Taser to feel the pain in my heart.
Chapter 37
I looked at Michelle, who was, of course, terrified. Gundersen leaned toward me and said, I dont want her brains all over my nice ship. Do you understand? I nodded. Just to be sure, he called to Luis and instructed him, If Mr. Van Essen makes one move in the wrong direction, do not hesitate to shoot her. He then told me, Come. I think you know where we keep traitors on this ship. I followed Gundersen to the same twenty-foot container where hed locked up Tjuren and Axel earlier. Diego and his fat friend stayed right behind me, one with a club ready and the other with his finger on the Taser trigger. As Gundersen unlocked the doors, I told him, Let the girl go, Bjorn. I can promise you she knows nothing. He looked at me and shook his head. And I should trust you? I should believe your promises? I think not. Shes only She brought me the message from Nigel Adams! he yelled. She has been working behind my backwith Nigel and with you! He took a couple of breaths to calm himself and told me, I trusted you once, and you betrayed me. You are a traitor and a spy. You will not stop me or the Skilja from completing our mission. Gundersen opened one of the doors, and I could smell the stench of death along with human waste coming from inside. The last thing I wanted was for Michelle to be thrown inside there, so I tried pleading, You dont understand, Bjorn. I was only As I spoke, he spun around and backhanded me across the side of my face. At once, I was knocked to the ground. It was a solid blow and I felt dazed for a few seconds. I do understand, he told me. I understand never to trust an outsider againespecially an American.
I felt like the walls were closing in, but I managed to tell him, Kill me. What did you say? I took a breath and repeated myself, Kill mebut let her live. He snarled at that and asked, Did you and Nigel let Ella live? Did you show her mercy? I had nothing to do with thator with Nigel. From behind, Michelle cried out, We havent done anything! Why are you? Shut your mouth! Gundersen yelled, or Ill have him shut it for you! He pointed to Luis, who was still holding a gun to her head. He then stepped closer to me and let me know, You and this woman, this whore, are going inside this box where you can think about all youve done. Between the two of you, you can decide who is to blame. He paused for a moment and then added, Dont worry, Van Essen, I will kill you soon enough. Before this ship leaves tonight, this container will be at the bottom of the river. He then turned to Diego and the guard, gave them a nod, and walked off. Once Gundersen was gone, Diego whacked me on the back with his club. You heard the man. Into the box. I winced from the pain, then struggled to my feet and stepped toward the container. Once I was close, the guard pulled the Taser wires out of my back and Diego used his foot to shove me the rest of the way in. I landed face first and felt my front teeth scrape against the cold steel floor. Seconds later, I heard Michelle scream as they threw her beside me and slammed the doors shut. It was dark inside, and the stench was almost unbearable. I heard Michelle weeping. She then called to me, Craig? Im right here, I replied. I held my arms out and scooted across the floor until I felt her. She grabbed my hand and then threw her arms around me. She was trembling and breathing rapidly and I could tell she was on the verge of going into shock.
Whatwhats happening, Craig? I knew there was nothing I could say to make it all better. I held her tightly and said in a low, calm voice, Try to take a couple of slow, deep breaths. I patted her on the back for a moment and could hear her breathing slow a bit. There was a thin ray of light coming from between the doors. She turned to it and asked, Are they going to leave us in here? I could tell she needed some words of comfort, so I lied, My people know where I am. Im certain someone will come for us before too long. I continued holding her tightly and she seemed to relax further. After a minute or so, she sniffed a few times and asked, Whats that smell? Its awful. Just then, we both heard a groaning sound from the far end of the container. What was that? she asked. Someone else is in here. Tjuren? My eyes had only begun to adjust to the darkness and I couldnt see much of anything. I let go of Michelle and began crawling on my hands and knees, feeling around. I then heard another groan and went right to it. Lying in the far corner, I felt a body wrapped in a blanket. Tjuren? I asked. Is that you? I seemed to have startled him. He turned to me with slow, jerking movements and replied, It is I. Who is it? Michelle called out. Did you find someone? Its a friend, I told her. His name is Amol Thorsenbut he is known as Tjuren. I sat beside him and helped wrap the blanket around him more tightly. Im surprised to find you alive. He snorted at that. I asked, What have they done with Axels body?
He thought for a moment and then answered, One of the guards took him, and promised hed be buried properly at sea. He also brought me water and some food. Can you tell me what he looked like? He thought again and told me, He was a young, thin-looking fellowand he had a beard, if I recall. He then asked, Who is with you? I let him know, God hasnt abandoned us, Amol. He put us in here with an angel. I called to her, Michelle, come sit with Tjuren and I. As she crawled over to where we were sitting, Tjuren asked me, Where are we? I heard the cranes running. New York Harbor, I told him. The ship is being unloaded. He shook his head. Oh God. Hes going to go through with it. Go through with what? Has he told you about the devices? He mentioned them, but never told me what they are. He drew a weary breath, They may as well be from the darkest corner of hell. Bjorn spent years trying to come up with a way to do it. Then one day A way to do what? I asked. He paused for a long moment, then cleared his throat and replied, To make the earth move, of course. Like an earthquake? Precisely. Didnt Bjorn explain any of this to you? No, he didnt. I asked him, Did he happen to use one of these devices in Tokyo? During the During the Summer Olympic games, he said. Im afraid the answer to that is yes. That was a manmade earthquake? He nodded. That was Gundersen. He explained, The device had only been scientifically tested once, and that was done secretly in a
remote part of Sweden by Bjorn and I. That test resulted in only a small tremor. Bjorn had predicted a similar small quake in Japan, which we hoped would serve as a warning and also draw attention to our cause. But, of course, as you know all too wellit didnt work out that way. Bjorn had underestimated how fragile the Earths surface was in that part of Tokyo My God. I drew a deep breath. Michelle spoke up, Craig, you told me that your wife and daughter were killed in that earthquake. Is he saying they were murdered? My head was spinning upon hearing all this, which was too much too fast. I told her, Ask Tjuren that question. Tjuren coughed a couple of times and then answered, My dear girl, it was never our intention to hurt anyone. Nonetheless, many innocent people died as a result of our foolish and impulsive actions. Were you part of that? she asked. Were you involved? He seemed to think about that for a few seconds and then told her, Im ashamed to admit it, but I was quite involved. He then turned slowly to me and said, I know, sir, afterafter losing your family that its far too much to ask, but, perhaps I forgive you. Whawhat did you say? I said, I forgive you. At that, he seemed speechless for a long moment before he slowly began to weep. This he did quietly at first, then aloud. Michelle, too, became deeply saddened by what shed heard and began to cry along with him. Listening to them weeping while thinking of Jessica and Chandis softened my heart as well, to the point that I soon felt one small tear fall from my eye. Perhaps two.
Chapter 38
I felt the back of my head and realized I now had a good-sized lump from being whacked with a club. I could also feel a major headache coming on, which sucks, but it did take my attention away from my right shoulder, which really ached. I hadnt heard a crack, but I wondered if something there might be broken. Still, as long as I could move my arm I was okay since it took my mind off the fact that all my muscles were aching and twitching, which I guess was the normal after- effect of being electrocuted a couple of times. What was more painful than anything though, was knowing that Michelle was now involved in all this. That, and knowing what Gundersen was about to do to her and being unable to stop him. I finally knew what the devices Gundersen spoke of actually were, and it turns out Mark Westfalls suspicions were right all along. Gundersen, in his genius, had designed and built a machine that was somehow capable of creating an earthquake. I now knew that Jessica and Chandiss deaths were not an accident. I also realized that this weaponwhich was capable of unthinkable destructionwas in the hands of a madman. I let all that sink in for a while and then asked Tjuren, How was Nigel Adams involved in all this? He coughed again to clear his throat, and began, Bjorn and I had prepared a message He began coughing again, this time harder. Michelle felt his forehead and told me, Hes burning with fever. I felt his head, which did seem warm. Hes lost blood and probably has an infection, I told her. He was stabbed in the abdomen earlier with a knife. What? By who? Gundersen, Tjuren said, answering her question. Worst of all, he killed my son, just so he could tear my heart in two which he did. He paused a moment, then stated the obvious, Gundersen has become quite insane.
Im sorry about your son, Michelle told him. I cannot imagine your pain. He made no reply to that and continued explaining, In Tokyo, wed prepared a message for the world to hear, and I sent one copy of it to a contact of mine at the BBC and another to the head of the Olympic committee just before Bjorn initiated the earthquake I cut in, But the message wound up being confiscated and kept from public knowledge. Right? I believe that is correct. Nonetheless, Nigel Adams seems to have obtained a copy of it. Somehow, he and his people managed to trace it to me. That explains a few things, I said to him, and then asked, Who does Nigel work for, anyway? Do you know? He groaned. Everything he told me turned out to be a lie, but I now suspect that he was some kind of British agent all along. Maybe MI6. He continued, After winning my confidence, he quickly learned that it was Bjorn who had invented the device, and that he alone understood the complex workings of it. Why was Nigel in prison with us? Was that part of his plan? Michelle was surprised by that and asked me, You were in prison? Uh oh. I placed my hand on her shoulder. I can explain all this Youd better. Tjuren had waited for his turn to speak, and now answered my question, I believe it was Nigel that arranged to have Bjorn and several members of our group arrested and placed in Oberwald. I suspect his plan was to befriend Bjorn while in prison and then coerce him into revealing the location of the devices and how they work. He added, Nigel never expected that Bjorn would escape from Oberwaldthough he did, along with you. Michelle asked me, Soyoure an escaped prisoner? I was sure Michelle was upset enough about being brought to this ship and tossed into this steel box. I think she was even more disturbed to find that her new boyfriend hadnt been too forthcoming about things. I was already in the doghouse, so to speak, and I knew if she
and I somehow got out of this alive Id have a lot of explaining and a lot of bullshitting to do. Mostly bullshitting. In reply, I told her, Ill explain everything later. Please trust me. It was quiet for a moment, then Tjuren asked me, For what reason did the ship come to a halt this morning? We seemed to have stopped for about ten minutes or so. I dont know. When I asked Gundersen about that, he refused to tell me. Was anything unloaded from the ship at that time? I thought I had heard a crane running. Im not sure. Why? He seemed to be in thought for a moment and then replied, I believe he may have lowered one of his devices into the sea. Into the sea? Why would he do that? Im afraid he plans to initiate an underwater earthquake. He let out a long breath and then explained, Bjorn once spoke to me about the undersea topography outside New York harbor. I remember now that he seemed excited about what he had discovered. He described it as being perfect for his machine. A perfect place to initiate An earthquake? I guessed. Worse. If Bjorns calculations were correct and all went as planned, the device would create a flood surge that would, in theory, destroy most of the city. Well, that was worse. In her innocence, Michelle asked, Why would heor anyone want to destroy New York? That has been his intended target for some time, he told her. New York is the home of the United Nations. In Bjorns mind, and even mine I suppose, the UN building represents the antithesis of all we believe in. I asked, Your people wouldnt want to see it destroyed though, would they?
Of course not, he replied. Our group, the Skilja, are on a mission of peace. Nonetheless, I suspect that Bjorn, in his madness, would still target it if given the chance. He thought for a moment and added, He has probably persuaded some members of the group, the weaker minded ones, to go along with his plan. Michelle asked, Who would follow a madman? Who would go along with something horrible like that? History proves that if properly motivated and convinced that they are doing Gods will, men can be led to commit unthinkable atrocities. But still Bjorn Gundersen is surely mad, he continued, Nonetheless; his arguments can be most convincing, my dear. He paused in thought for a moment and then admitted, I have caught even myself being persuaded by his clever words. I asked, What did Nigel want the devices for? What was his plan? I can only assume that he hoped to prove that what happened in Tokyo was an act of terrorismthough he and his employers may have had other motives in addition to that. For their use as a weapon? Possibly. Does anyone beside Gundersen know how the devices work? Where are the plans for these things kept? There are no plans or schematics of any kind, Tjuren told me. Everything is inside Bjorns head. As far as I am aware, no one else knows anything. I considered that, then asked him, How are the damned things activated? Are they on a timer, or? No, he replied. Bjorn designed them to be set off by remote control. That way he can decide if and when to activate them. Even when theyre underwater? They are designed in a rather clever way, he answered. They each have a receiver with a long cord fastened to the top of the main apparatus. The fastening agent is made of simple hardened sugar,
which slowly dissolves when exposed to salt water. Once dissolved, the receiver will float up to the surface where it waits to receive a transmission signal. That is clever. He had no comment to add, so I asked, How close would he have to be to transmit to the receiver? He thought about that and let me know, With a good transmitter, maybe twenty miles. Well, I was sure Gundersen had a good transmitter, but I was also fairly sure that the device had been submerged at least forty miles or more from the harbor, judging from how long it took us to travel from the spot where the ship had stopped to the harbor. Of course, with a helicopter, he could position himself directly over the thing if he wanted. This reminded me of what I saw when Emerald and I first landed on the ship. I asked Tjuren, Would he have any reason to place one of these devices in the Mediterranean? He exhaled deeply and then replied, I pray not. There are places there that would be very susceptible. An undersea earthquake in that region, if properly placed and timed right, would becatastrophic. I considered that and asked, Would it have made any difference where he placed the device? Did it need to be in deep water, or? Bjorn would have placed it in or around an area of seismic weakness or, if possible, close to an undersea ledge for maximum effect. He would also wait until just before the peak of high tide to activate the device. Once again, this would be for maximum effect. That is why Just then, we heard the doors of the container unlatch. After that, they swung open and their rusty hinges squeaked as our eyes squinted from the light. Three figures strode toward us. I was really hoping this was the police and they were here to tell us that Bjorn Gundersen was dead and that theyd brought fresh bagels for us. Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I was disappointed to see Gundersen standing in front of us. From the look in his eyes, I didnt think this was going to be a friendly visitand I didnt see any bagels, either. Diego was standing just to his left, and I noticed his hair was
still perfect. I also noticed he was holding a gun and had it aimed at me. To the right of him was the chubby guard, the stupid one with the large birthmark who had tasered me earlier. I could see he still had a club hooked onto his belt and had a fresh Taser pointed in our direction. My direction, actually. Gundersen stepped forward and got down on one knee. Before he got the chance to say anything crazy, Tjuren turned and begged him, Please, my old friend, stop what you are doing. Its not too late, Bjorn. You can stop now, before Im surprised you are still alive, you old fool, Gundersen said. And Im also surprised you are not delighted with what I am about to accomplish. Even over the stench of urine and feces, I could smell booze rolling off Gundersen and I knew it would be useless to try to reason with a walking brewery. Tjuren shook his head and replied, You will accomplish nothing but senseless destruction, Bjorn. He sighed and added, You have become a terrorist. You must understand that they will find you. He laughed at that. Just like Tokyo, they wont know what hit themother than a natural catastrophe. Mother Nature strikes again. He laughed at that. The bastard. I thought that if I could move my feet under myself, I could leap forward and probably get a hold of him. If I had a few seconds, I could probably break his neckor at least try to gouge his eyes out. Right now, Id be willing to risk being Tasered again just for the chance to kick him square in the crotch. Unfortunately, as soon as I tried to reposition myself, the idiot guard stepped forward and pointed the Taser into my face. Tjuren shook his head and told Bjorn, They will know, Bjorn. You are forgetting that Nigel Adams is still out thereand he hasnt forgotten the name Bjorn Gundersen. Well, Id bet Nigel hasnt forgotten the name Craig Van Essen either, especially when he sits down or wipes his ass. Gundersen ignored Tjurens warning and told him, He will be looking for earthquakes, not what I am about to produce. He leaned
forward and reminded him, It was you that allowed Nigel into the fold. Because of you, you old fool, my sister Im afraid you are the old fool, Bjorn. If you proceed with your plan of destruction, they will hunt down every last one of Shut up! Gundersen shouted. He didnt want Diego or his idiot guard to hear this insolence, so he told Tjuren, If you say one more word, Ill kill you here and now. Dont test me Michelle decided to try to reason with Gundersen and explained, This man is already dying. He needs to be taken to a hospital at once. Gundersen forced a smile. You may shut your mouth as well, my dear, or I will strangle you in front of your boyfriend. At that, I made a quick mental note: First chance I get, Im going to cut his fucking head off. Gundersen then turned to Tjuren and informed him, I have prepared a message to be sent to our media contacts, as well as everyone on the Olympic Committee. He then grinned in a sinister way and said, At eleven oclock tonight, everything changes. Tjuren heard that and replied, I can only hope that these mindless thugs of yours will have enough sense to stop you before then. He then glanced first at Diego and then the guard and shouted to them, He is a monster and madman! Kill him before he kills millions! Damn youI told you to shut up! At that, Gundersen stood and grabbed the club from the guards belt. Before anyone had time to think or react, he swung down hard with the club and delivered a fierce blow to Tjurens head. Then another and another. Michelle grabbed onto me and screamed into my ear. During that, I could feel blood spattering onto me. I looked up to see Diego with his gun held out and pointed at me, just waiting for me to lift a finger in protest. The guard still had his Taser pointed at Michelle and me, too, but I noticed he was looking down at Tjurens bloodied face and seemed to be almost in shock. I was angry inside; so much so that I could feel pure adrenaline rushing through my veins. They had me pinned down for now, but I knew that if I ever got out of this box alive, I would hunt Gundersen down.
Even in the dim light, I could see that Gundersens face was red and contorted. His eyes were bulging, too, and he was breathing hard. He looked at Michelle and me and barked, Get upboth of you! At this point, Michelle was sobbing uncontrollably and I was sure she was almost in shock herself. I told Gundersen, Fuck off. He didnt like being spoken to that way, especially in front of his goons, so he warned me, Get upor Ill Taser your little girlfriend in the tits. Well, I wouldnt put anything past him, so I stood. As I did, Gundersen took a wild swing at me with the club. I ducked back down and felt the end of the club pass just over my head. He then swung again, this time in a downward sweep. Quickly, I reached out and caught the end of the club with my right hand. The instant I did that, Diego stepped forward with his gun. This time, however, it was pointed down at Michelles head. Drop it! he told me. Let go of the club right now or the girl gets the bullet! I let out a long breath while I held firmly to the club. I looked into Gundersens bulging eyes. Neither of us blinked. Diego warned me, You have one second! I waited a full second and let go. Gundersen and I were still eye-to- eye and I told him, If you didnt have your babysitters here, Id have caved your skull in just then. He snarled at that. You really think so? he asked. Lets do it then. Youre on. He glanced over at Diego and the guard. Both of youget back. Leave Van Essen and I to fight. I knew this would be my one and only chance. Cautiously, Diego and the guard took one step back, and then another. Nonetheless, they still had their weapons drawn and aimed. I glanced down at Tjuren for a second, and could see that the side of his forehead was bashed in and there was a trail of blood running down the side of his head. I looked back at Gundersen and told him,
This is supposed to be between you and me. Order your morons to lower their weapons and back off. Just as he turned to pass that message along, Emerald appeared at the door. Gundersen looked over at her. She studied the scene for a moment, which probably didnt look too good. She also seemed to make brief eye contact with me, then at Gundersen and let him know, The chopper needs to be moved off the containers. He nodded at her. Then move it. The rest of the crew is gathered for your meeting, she said. Its just a hunch, but I think theyre expecting you to be there. He nodded again. Im on my way. After Emerald stepped away, he turned back to me. While slapping the end of the club in the palm of his hand he said, Too bad Im out of time, Van Essen. I would have loved beating you to death with this. He then began to leave. I called to him, You have time, Bjornor is it that you dont have the balls to fight me alone? I was hoping to get him to come back, but instead he laughed and waved the club as he stepped outside. Come back! I shouted. Just you and meman to man. As Diego and the guard began to close the doors, Gundersen turned back and assured me, Dont worry, Mr. Van Essen. Before long, you and your lovely accomplice will find yourselves at the bottom of this harbor. He grinned widely and added, And soon after that, you will be joined by many, many others. I could hear him laughing aloud as the doors shut. As for myself, I didnt think this was funny at all. That doesnt mean I dont understand irony. It doesnt mean I dont have a sense of humor, either. It just means Im not crazy.
Chapter 39
A light wind continued from the east, along with an occasional gust of frigid air. With it, she could detect the faint scent of diesel fumes coming from the loading trucks and lift vehicles nearby. She glanced down and checked the signal again, then took hold of her binoculars and gazed out at the ship being unloaded in the distance. After taking a moment to focus, she could make out the name AGNES ANN spelled out in large white letters across the forward side of the ship. Soon, she looked and saw that the cranes had come to a sudden stop. After this, she heard what sounded like the loud whine of a jet engine coming to life. Minutes later, she was surprised to see a helicopter lift off from a pad at the rear of the ship. She watched as it continued upward to an altitude of about five hundred feet. Once there, the craft positioned itself and began heading north. She focused the binoculars again, then followed the helicopter carefully for a minute until it had reached a spot upriver, just two piers away, where it began a gradual descent. It continued dropping slowly and gracefully against the distant backdrop of the Brooklyn Bridge and countless Manhattan skyscrapers until it finally touched down on a small heliport, which appeared to extend from the end of the pier and out into the East River. It had begun drizzling again, and the thin sheets of ice and piles of snow were slowly melting into puddles over the vast shipyard. A sudden gust startled her as cold droplets blasted against her exposed face. She wiped her face on her sleeve, then looked around again. Between where she was standing and the ship, a distance of about one thousand feet, stood a small guardhouse positioned at the side of a gated entrance. Two uniformed security guards wearing florescent green vests were checking each vehicle coming through. A clock on the side of the guardhouse let her know it was 4:40 p.m., and she figured the guards workday would be winding down soon. To the north, she noticed a group of dockworkers walking together and could see they were headed toward a large building. She looked around for a second, and then started in that direction. Walking quickly,
though not so much as to be noticed, she soon caught up with the group. She watched as the person in front of the line held a card near a reader, waited a moment, and then pushed open a steel door. On the door was a sign posted in bold capital letters which read EMPLOYEES ONLY. Keeping her head down, she did her best not to be noticed as she followed everyone through the door and into a large break room. The center of the room was filled with tables and chairs. On a wall to her left, she noticed that a large TV was turned on and playing what appeared to be a tournament basketball game, and a few of the workers had directed their attention to that. On her right was a bright blue Pepsi machine, and beyond that she spotted a long rack where hard hats, safety vests, and coats were hung on hooks. She stepped over to the Pepsi machine and pulled out her debit card. From the reflection on the front of the machine, she could see that most of the group were either heading into the locker area located at the far end of the break room or had gone out to the docks through the back door to her right. She waved her debit card over the reader, then selected a Pepsi and grabbed it from the dispenser. After that, she grabbed a yellow hardhat and an orange vest from the rack and exited unnoticed through the back door. As she entered the dockyard, she pulled her wool hat from her head, then pulled her hair up and placed the hardhat over that, quickly adjusting the hat size with a knob positioned on the back. That done, she slipped the vest over her jacket and tried to appear nonchalant as she headed out across the yard and toward the pier. While walking, she popped open the soda can and took a sip. Just then, a large white pickup truck pulled beside her and slowed down. The driver, a rugged-looking fellow of about forty or so, lowered the right-side window, then leaned over and asked her, Wherere you heading? The girl turned and pointed. To that ship right there, the Agnes Ann. She then smiled and asked, Hey, can you give me a ride? Before the man could think of a reply, she opened the door and hopped in. She pointed to the Agnes Ann and told him, Thanks. Im glad I didnt have to walk.
He looked at her for a few seconds, then began driving in the direction of the ship. After a moment, he turned and asked, Sowhats your name, anyway? Paige, she replied, and then changed the subject, Hey, I like your truck. What do you do, anyway? He laughed at the question and told her, Im a longshoreman, sweetheart. Whatd ya think? He looked at her for a moment and asked, What do you do? I havent noticed you around here before. And wheres your security? I left it on the ship, she said, cutting him off. Thats why I need to go back. Oh She smiled demurely and added, Ill keep it glued to me next timedont worry. She then gave him a wink. Uhyeah. This place is real strict Tell me about it. You know, were supposed to contact security if we catch anybody without their badge. Well, dont do that or Ill, like, get in trouble for leaving it behind. My boss will be pissed. Whos your boss? Craig Van Essen. Who the hell is that? Hes the guy thatll be pissed if he finds out I forgot my badge. He seemed to think about that, then told her, Wellall right, but just be careful not to misplace that thing next time, okay? Okay. Got it. A minute later, the driver pulled beside the Agnes Ann and slowed to a stop. Paige thanked him for the ride, then climbed out and looked around. Moments earlier, while approaching the ship, shed seen one person walking up the personnel-boarding ramp. Now, as she looked around, she noticed there was no one securing the entryway.
Do you want me to wait? the driver asked, interrupting her thoughts. Uhno. Ill probably be in there for a whilebut thanks anyway. He gave her a nod and pulled away. With some apprehension, Paige glanced around one last time and took a deep breath. Without further hesitation, she strode quickly to the entryway and headed up the ramp. Once shed reached the ship, she crossed a wide threshold, then went through an entranceway and stepped into a dark antechamber where she took a moment to stop and listen. Hearing nothing, she proceeded into the belly of the beast.
Chapter 40
Though she was nervous, Paige ONeill continued slowly into the ship. She stepped softly as she entered a wide, dimly lit corridor. To her, it seemed strange that no one was monitoring the ships entryway. It was also eerily quiet onboard and she began to wonder where everyone was. She stopped for a moment and again pulled the radio direction finder from inside her jacket. After raising the large H-shaped antenna, she turned on the device and began to move it slowly from left to right. She could see a reading, which was fairly clear, and could tell it was coming from one of the floors directly above her. Where the corridor ended, she turned left and discovered a narrow staircase. Using soft steps, she made her way up the stairs all the way to the main deck. Once there, Paige ducked into a small alcove and listened again for any signs of activity. Hearing nothing, she checked the directional antenna and could tell that Craigs radio signal from coming from her left. Without a sound, she stepped out and watched the signal readings as she walked along the deck. Near the end of the deck, the signal suddenly changed as though shed walked past it. She stopped and took a few seconds to look around. Across the river, she could see the dense concrete forest of high-rise buildings covering the southern tip of Manhattan. Many of offices in those buildings were beginning to light up as the grey skies darkened further with the coming of night. Beside her, she noticed a large observation room fitted with wide tinted-glass windows reaching from one side of the ship to the other, each with wipers mounted on the outside. This, she knew, would have to be the bridge. From the radio signal, she also knew this had to be the location from which Craigs transmitter beacon was emitting. Paige tried the door to the bridge and was surprised to find it unlocked. Stepping in, she took a moment to glance around and found there was no one inside. Across the front of the wide room were two main consoles, each with monitors, buttons, lights, switches, and a few
conspicuously empty chairs. There was also a station with what appeared to be a large round radar screen. Between the two consoles was the helm, which was fitted with an unexpectedly small wheel, and behind that was a wall filled with more lights, switches, and an array of complex communication and navigation equipment. She looked down at her directional antenna and began following its signal, which led her to a door on the port side. The signal seemed to be coming from above the door, which, to her, didnt make sense. Nonetheless, she pulled one of the chairs from the console over to the door and stood up on it. She then reached up and ran her hand along the sill plate over the door where she soon discovered the tiny devise. She climbed down from the chair with the transmitter in her hand and immediately recognized it as Craigs. Just then, one of the ships radios chirped out a garbled communication, startling her and causing her heart to jump. She tossed the small transmitter into the trash along with her signal finder and headed back out to the deck. Once outside, Paige leaned over the rail and could see light coming from one of the large rooms below. Listening, she thought she could hear the sound of voices coming from there as well. As she headed back to the stairs, she wondered why Craig would have hidden the transmitterand why in such an odd location. She also wondered what hed meant when he said he felt something major could be going down tonight. Hed warned her to stay away from the ship though, of course, shed chosen to ignore that piece of instruction. Moreover, he had warned her that the people he was involved with were dangerous, though she had given little thought to that as well. Until now, that is. Only now was she beginning to understand how precarious her situation actually was. She knew Bjorn Gundersen was near, either on board or somewhere close to the ship. She didnt trust Gundersen, and had every reason to believe that Craig didnt have much faith in him either. After finding the transmitter, Paige was concerned that something terrible may have happened to her boss, Craig. She was also beginning to worry that something unpleasant could happen to her if she were caught sneaking aroundespecially if Gundersen discovered her. She
was aware that, if caught, she could be arrested and charged with trespassing. At this point, however, she was starting to think that she might not make it off the ship alive. She pushed those thoughts out of her head as she returned to the staircase. Silently, she descended one flight and stopped to look around. Slowly, she stepped down the hallway and peered around the corner. From there, she could see the same large lighted room she had spotted from upstairs. She could also see where all the missing crewmembers were. Looking through the windows, she could tell that a meeting was being held and that the whole crew appeared to be in attendance. Bjorn Gundersen was standing at one end of the room, and she could make out the sound of his voice as he spoke, though he was speaking in another language. Paige looked around the room for any sign of Craig Van Essen, but he was nowhere to be seen. Just as she put her head out further around the corner, one of the crewmembers in the room turned and seemed to lock eyes with her. At once, Paige ducked behind the wall and ran back to the staircase. She wasnt sure if shed been spotted or not, but she wasnt going to take any chances. As swiftly as possible, she headed down the stairs to the next deck. On the way down, she heard the door of the meeting room swing open abruptly and could hear voices coming from behind her. She now felt certain shed been seen and could tell they were coming to find her. At the bottom of the stairs, she looked around before darting toward a narrow hallway to her right. At an intersecting corridor, she turned right again, then left, and soon found herself in a maze of passageways and halls. Behind her, she could hear male voices and the sound of heavy feet approaching fast. Desperately, she tried one of the doors, which was locked, then another, which was locked as well. She could tell that whoever was following her was very close, and she could hear by the sound of their footsteps that they were about to round the corner. Paige dashed to the last door and tried it. Luckily for her, this one opened. She ducked in quickly, then closed the door softly behind herself. Once inside, she could feel her heart pounding as she stepped
backward into the darkened room. She thought of locking the door just before she saw a group of shadows whisk past the narrow opening at the doors bottom edge. She stood frozen for a moment. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could tell she was in one of the cabins. Realizing that someone could walk in at any moment, she glanced around and then felt her way into a small bathroom. In the dim light, she could make out a standup shower to her left. Just then, she was startled by the sound of the door swinging open as someone burst into the room. The lights to the main cabin flipped on. She then heard a stern male voice call loudly, Hello? Anybody in here? Without a sound, Paige stepped into the shower and closed the door behind her. Inside the shower stall, she noticed a large towel hanging on a peg. Quickly, she grabbed the towel and draped it over the translucent Plexiglas door. She then pressed herself tightly into a corner. At that moment, a shadow came over the entry to the bathroom and she watched nervously through an uncovered section between the doorframe and the towel. A figure emerged, and she could tell it was the figure of a man. The man stood for a moment, then spoke in a calm voice, Anyone in here? You can come out now, and no ones going to get hurt. Paige had no way of knowing if the man was aware of her presence. She knew he could be here simply on a hunch since the door to this room was the only one that had been left unlocked. She continued watching in silence while taking slow, short breaths. Suddenly, the man flipped on the light switch and stepped close to the shower door. After a moment of hesitation, he pushed the door open. Paige was crouched down in the corner behind the door, frozen in fear, moving only her eyes. She held her breath and felt as though her heart had stopped as the man peered in and glanced over at the other end of the small shower. He then closed the door and began to step away.
As the door shut, the towel slowly slid down and fell to the floor. Paige remained perfectly still and watched in terror and the man turned to look. Through the translucent glass, he seemed to be staring directly at her. Seconds hung in time before he finally turned away and headed out of the cabin. Paige was trembling and frightened, but remained silent and still for more than a few seconds before she finally took a deep breath and stood up. After waiting a moment to allow her nerves to calm, she wiped her eyes and thought about her situation. With no way out other than the one door, she knew that she couldnt risk hiding and waiting in the cabin much longer. Besides that, her intuition told her that something had happened to Craig, and that he might need her help. If that was true, she figured she had little time to waste. As she considered things further, she realized that if she was wrong about all this, then the worst she could expect would be that Craig might be upset at her for disobeying his orders and send her home. She looked at her right hand and noticed it was still trembling.
Chapter 41
Im not sexist. Well, not that sexist. Nonetheless, I feel its safe to say that, generally speaking, woman tend to react differently in a crisis situation than men do. While that might be a huge understatement, I still had no idea how Michelle might react once reality sinks in and it dawns on her that this big, cold steel box is actually a deathtrap and that we arent getting out of this thing alive. Maybe when that time arrives shell become angry, and I wouldnt blame her. Or maybe shell have a mild psychotic episode and try to beat the door open. Or maybe shell just withdraw into a corner and quietly wet herselfwhich is probably what Id do if I wasnt so dehydrated. Or maybe, just maybe, shes wondering how Ill react once it dawns on me that this big, cold How are we going to get out of here? Michelle asked, interrupting my thoughts. Im usually prepared with a quick answer, but I had to dig deep into my much-used bag of bullshit for this one. Just hang in there, I told her. Im sure my people will be here soon. As you well know, my people consist of the President of the United States, who was probably sipping sauvignon blanc right now while dining on roast pheasant. His mind would be more concerned with missile codes, next weeks press conference, and the lady reporter with the nice legs than he would be with me or my whereabouts. It was safe to assume that the vice-president was equally oblivious to my existence and was probably busy dreaming that his boss had a serious though undiagnosed heart condition. And good old Mark Westfall, the White House Chief of Staff, had surely control-alt-deleted me from his list of people to remember ten minutes after I stepped out of his office. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Out of respect, I guess I should include my young assistant, Paige ONeill, in that short list of unlikely saviors. Unfortunately, my last orders to her were to stay away from this shipnot that shed be able to get near this thing anyway. If I understood how her simple mind
worked, and Im pretty sure I do, she was probably busy thinking about something to do with sex. In fact, if I recall correctly, her last piece of advice for me was that I needed sex. Well, I dont think thats going to happen. In the meantime, I had to resign to the fact that this was the end for us and that this coffin-shaped containerwith us in itwould soon be dropped over the side of the ship where wed find ourselves with the fish, some seaweed, and maybe a few other bodies that were already down there. I mean, this is New York, right? Just then, a sharp clanging metallic sound began striking against the outside of the container and startled the three of us. As the sound echoed around us, Michelle asked, Whats that? What are they doing? I made no reply, but went to the door where I peered through a narrow crack in the door seal gaskets. In the dim light, I spotted one of Gundersens guards as he passed by. It was the fat, stupid one, and I could tell he was in the process of rigging the container to be lifted. This, of course, was bad news. Tjuren answered Michelle. From the sound of it, my dear, Id say that someone is attaching lifting lugs to the top corners of the container. For what? I can only assume they are planning to move us and our little home. Move us where? she asked, though Im sure she must have had some vague idea tucked somewhere in the depths of her subconscious. At least Tjuren and I did, though we werent about to discuss that gloomy topic right here and now. I went back to where Michelle was and sat next to her. I patted her on the back and assured her, Theyre probably just moving us to a less conspicuous spot. Like the bottom of the East River, for example. You dont suppose theyre actually going to Just relax, I told her. I held her close and smelled her hair for a moment, then softly kissed her cheek. After that, I whispered into her ear, Everything is going to be all right.
It was a rather welcome lie, Im sure, and easy on the ears. But a lie nonetheless.
Chapter 42
Paige pressed her ear against the cabin door and listened carefully. Satisfied that there was no one outside, she opened it an inch and peeked out into the hallway. Seeing no sign of anyone, she quietly slipped out of the room and found her way back to the small stairwell. Near the landing of the stairs, Paige stopped in her tracks and cringed as she spotted a large black rat sniffing around in the shadows, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Its wet fur glistened as it passed under a ray of light, sending a chill of repulsion over her. As she reluctantly entered the landing, the creature became startled and scampered off in the opposite direction. She calmed herself for a few seconds, then pressed against the near wall and moved along slowly as she listened for sounds. Coming from the top of the stairs she heard the faint sound of voices. Quickly, she ducked into a dark and narrow recess in the closest corner. From above, she could hear the sound of footsteps, which were soon followed by the moving shadows of what seemed to be a large group heading her way. As the footsteps grew louder, Paige looked and saw the rat once again as it scurried out from under a crevice on the far side of the landing. To her horror, the creature stopped, then darted across the floor and slipped into the same tiny niche where she was hiding. Paige was aghast, but managed to stifle a scream while the group descended the stairs from the floor above. As the crew members came into view, she held her breath and pressed herself as far into the darkened recess as she could. At her feet, she could feel the wet fur of the rat brushing against her ankles as it moved nervously about. Suddenly, the animal pawed at her leg. She tried to contain herself, but couldnt keep from letting out a short yelp. At the sound of that, one of the crewmen turned and glanced in her direction. Curious, he stopped for a brief moment, then continued with the rest of the group as they made their way across the landing and down the next set of stairs.
Trembling, Paige drew a slow, quiet breath and tried again to calm herself. Through all this, she managed to keep an eye out for Craig on the off-chance that he might be with the group. After the last of the men had walked passed her and disappeared down the stairwell, Paige gasped for air and kicked at the rat until it ran out of the niche and tore across the landing and out to the deck. Paige listened again. Once she felt it was safe, she peered out from the dark corner and drew another deep breath. At that very moment, the ships horn sounded from above, letting out an earsplitting blast. For a few seconds, Paige stood trembling and partially disoriented. Her ears were ringing and she felt her heart pounding hard in her chest. After pulling herself together, she stepped slowly from the stairwell and moved over to the rail at the edge of the deck. Looking to the stern, she could see that a large tugboat was preparing to move the ship from the pier while a few of the remaining hands assisted with the rigging. The rest of the crew had left the ship and she could see they were now heading to a transport bus which was waiting for them at the end of the dock. Within minutes, the tug crew expertly inched the huge vessel away from its place at the pier. During this maneuver, Paige made her way quietly from the port to the starboard side and watched as the ship moved slowly to a long, narrow floating pier which was positioned further out in the river. Once the ship was secured to the new location, most of the running lights were shut down. Soon after that, it became eerily still and silent onboard. The tugboat captain signaled the remaining Agnes Ann crew with a quick toot as it headed downriver to assist an incoming freighter. From above, Paige watched while the deck hands headed down to the floating berth where they boarded small transport boats which took them to the main pier and the waiting bus. Once they were gone, Paige began to search again for signs of Craig. She headed back up the stairs, returning to the bridge castle. As she stepped out of the stairwell, she was greeted by a blast of frigid air. She moved cautiously along the deck aware that there would be at least two guards on board watching the ship. She was also aware that shed been lucky so far not to be caught, but knew her luck wasnt going to hold out forever.
Soon, she heard a distant whining sound which seemed to be coming from the main deck. Silently, she crept along the outside of the bridge, remembering to stay below the windows where shed be hidden in the shadows and out of sight. At the front of the bridge, she looked over the rail to the main deck below. On the port side, she could see one of the cranes was being operated and it seemed ready to lift a small container. Paige watched for a moment. She thought it was odd that a container would be moved while the ship was away from the loading pier, and especially when almost the entire crew had left for shore. Still, she understood that container ships often move their cargo about and for various reasons. She turned from the rail and decided to head back downstairs and take a look at the vast storage area below deck. Just as she stepped away, a faint sound came to her over the shrilling whine of the crane motor. Quickly, she spun around and held her hand to her ear as she leaned again over the rail. Once again, she heard a distant, desperate sound cutting through the cold night air and she knew at once what it was. A cry for help.
Chapter 43
After darting down the stairs, Paige ran as fast as she could across the main deck in the direction of the crane operator, who she could see was seated inside a small compartment, his back facing her. She yelled to him to stop before noticing he was wearing a set of hearing protectors over his ears. Paige hurried past the crane station and leaned over the rail. Below her, she could see that the container was almost completely in the water. Just as it was about to go under, she heard another desperate cry for help, and it sounded to her like a womans voice. Seeing Paige, the man at the controls stopped the crane and stepped out of the small compartment. As he climbed down a short ladder, he heard Paige calling to him and he removed his hearing protectors. At the top of her voice, Paige yelled to him, Pull the container up, quick! Theres someone in there! He ignored the request and walked straight toward her. Didnt you hear me? Paige asked. Pull the container out of the waternow! Who the hell are you? he asked, slowly drawing a bright yellow Taser from his side holster. Paige studied the man for a brief moment. From the tag on his jacket, she could see his name was Gustav, and he was one of the ships security guards. Gustav was a big, heavyset guy and she couldnt miss the large wine-red birthmark on one side of his face. She thought quickly and replied, Im a friend of Bjorn Gundersen, and you need to do what I say, right now. The guard shook his head. I take orders only from Gundersen or the Captainnot from strangers. Paige glanced over the rail once again, and could see that the container was still under water. She turned back to the guard, who now had his Taser aimed at her. She glanced down and saw a red laser dot moving around on her chest, then looked up again with a frown and warned him, I wouldnt pull that trigger if I were you.
Why not? Obviously youre a spy or an enemy of some kind. She lied, Mr. Gundersen will kill you if you harm one hair on my head. With his left hand, Gustav pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked it. Then why hasnt he called me, or sent a message? The guard didnt seem easily persuaded, so Paige told him, Help me pull that container out of the water, then well discuss details. As she stepped in the direction of the crane, the guard moved forward and shoved her to the ground. He glared down at her and shouted, Stay right where you are or Ill pull this trigger, understand? Paige lay there for a second, staring up at Gustav. She noticed there was someone creeping up quietly behind him and it looked to her like another security guard. This one was thin, had a short beard, and was signaling with one finger to his mouth for her to be quiet. At that, she looked back up at Gustav and raised her hands in surrender. Dont shoot, she told him, then looked back again at the other guard, who had now drawn his club and seemed ready to attack. She had no idea who he was, what he wanted, or whos side he was on, but she was in no position to do anything but hope for the best. Gus noticed that Paige had focused on something behind him, and he turned just in time to see the end of Tims club coming his way. Quickly, he ducked in time to miss being struck by the club as it swung over his head. Gustav then straightened himself and aimed the Taser at Tims chest. Before he could pull the trigger, however, Tim swung again and delivered a blow to Gustavs wrist. At that, the Taser flew from his hand and dropped to the deck. Gustav let out a short cry of pain, then lowered himself into a martial arts stance. In a blur of motion, he landed a hard kick into Tims chest, sending him crashing to the deck. Before Gustav could move in for another kick, Tim used the momentum of his fall to roll all the way back and leap up onto his feet again. Tim shook himself off for a second before he crouched down and ran straight into Gustav, tackling him to the deck. Tim knelt over Gustav with one hand on his throat. With the other hand, he raised the club and prepared to bring it down at Gustavs
head. To Tims surprise, however, Gustav managed to grab the end of the club with his outreached hand and yanked it from his grasp. Gustav had the weapon now and he swung quickly at his opponent. He managed to hit Tim solidly across the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. Gustav jumped to his feet and stood over Tim, who appeared disoriented from the blow to the head. As Gustav raised the club to deliver the death blow, his body suddenly jerked and he dropped the weapon to the ground. Spasms raked through him as he stiffened from head to toe. His mouth hung open in a silent scream as his eyes bulged in horror. From the floor of the deck, Tim looked up and watched Gustav as he shook wildly for a moment before falling forward and landing face first onto the deck. He then noticed two thin yellow wires connecting from Gustavs back to a Taser gun, which Paige was holding firmly as she stood over her victim, her trembling finger still squeezing hard on the trigger.
Chapter 44
The inside of the container was black as ink, and the ice-cold water stung like a swarm of angry hornets. I was holding Michelle in one arm and Tjuren in the other, and we all gasped for air as the water level rose up to our necks. Let me go, Tjuren told me, his voice trembling. Let me gopleaseso you can save yourselves. Ignoring that, I lifted Michelle and him higher until the water finally rose over my head. As I tried to swim to the top, Tjuren used what strength he had left to push himself away and break free of my grasp. Before I could go after him I needed oxygen, and I pushed myself up to the remaining pocket of air. As I filled my lungs, I could see nothing but heard Michelle gasping in short, panicked breaths. Tjuren let go of me, I told her. I need to go after him. Go! Will you be all right? Get me out of hereand Ill be fine, she replied. Now go! I took a deep breath and dove into the darkness, feeling my way along the steel sides and floor of the container. In the near-freezing water I felt my oxygen running out quickly. I ran my hands along the floor for a moment, then felt my lungs burning for air. I searched for another few seconds, then turned and swam back to the spot where Michelle was treading water. I rose up to the small air pocket, which was even smaller now. After a few breaths, I held onto Michelles arm and told her, I cantI cant find him. She was still panting, but told me, Ill go check. At that, she quickly broke away from me and pushed herself under. I took a deep breath and followed her, feeling around for any sign of the old man. After a minute, Michelle and I found our way back to the tiny air
pocket, which was now only a few inches from the ceiling of the steel box. We continued treading water and shivering uncontrollably as we held each other. In the meantime, our tiny air space became smaller yet. Before long, when there were only a few breaths of air left, I began to hear Michelle crying. I told her, Im so sorry. A brief moment passed and I realized that our air supply was about gone. I heard Michelle take one last breath before replying, Its okay. Before she slipped away, she managed to whisper, I love you.
Chapter 45
I took my last breath of air and felt myself shaking in the freezing water while fragments of my life, including visions of things Id done, people Id know, and places Id been all passed before my eyes in a split-second. Just then, I felt myself being pulled down by a sudden and unexpected inertia as the whole steel box seemed to move sharply upward. I continued holding my breath for a moment, then pushed myself back up to the top. There, I realized that the air space was back again and that the container was being lifted up out of the water. Quickly, I reached down and grabbed Michelle by the arm. I pulled her up near the ceiling and held her head in the air pocket, which was becoming larger as water poured out through all the openings, broken seals, and vents. I couldnt tell if she was breathing, but I filled my lungs and gave her a rescue breath to be sure. Within seconds, she began coughing loudly, which was about the most beautiful thing Id ever heard. The water level inside continued dropping. Soon, I could keep my mouth above water while standing on my toes. Holding Michelle up by the waist, I asked, Are you all right? She seemed to think about that for a moment, then asked me, Whats happening? In truth, I had no idea why wed been pulled out of the river, but I told her, I think my people finally found us. Before she had a chance to comment on that, we suddenly found ourselves being tossed about as the water around us began to roll to one side, then the other. Apparently, the crane was moving us back to the deck and the remaining water rocked back and forth making it feel like we were inside a huge washing machine. I held on to Michelle and tried to keep her head above water without being banged around or knocked out by the steel walls and ceiling. Seconds later, I felt the container touch down solidly on the surface of the deck. Just as the water inside began to settle, someone pulled up
on the door levers, causing the doors to burst open like a floodgate. All at once, the water and everything insideincluding usdumped out onto the ships deck. In all the chaos, I lost my hold on Michelle and soon found myself sprawled out across the deck. After waiting a brief moment for my eyes to adjust to the light, I looked up to see the young, freckled face of my unlikely savior, Paige ONeill, who was beaming down at me. I looked to my right and spotted Michelle, who was sitting up and coughing more seawater from her lungs. After a few seconds, she looked over at me and managed a trembling smile. I then remembered Tjuren, and turned around to see him laying naked and face down against a floor drain. I began crawling over to him as quickly as I could. I saw that Tim, who I knew was one of the ships guards, was also hurrying to his aid. Tim and I reached Tjuren and turned him over, and we both knew it was too late. His skin appeared pale grey and his skull appeared fractured from where Gundersen had beat him. He was cold as ice with no sign of breathing. I helped position him properly while Tim began CPR. After a minute, I turned to see Michelle, who now was covered with a thick blanket. Paige brought a second blanket for me, and draped it over my shoulders while I helped with Tjuren. Tim continued CPR for a few minutes before I told him, Thats enough. You can stop now. He stopped compressions and looked at me. I explained, Im pretty sure he was ready to go, and I dont think hed want us bringing him back from where he is now. We took a moment to honor poor Amol Thorsen. Having lost a child, I knew he had died more from a wounded heart than from anything else. After that, Tim took Michelle and me to a warm cabin where we were given dry clothes and hot coffee. The two of us were still shaking, partly from spending so much time in freezing cold water and partly from the trauma of having come so close to death.
We stood together with our blankets wrapped around us, and I held Michelle in my arms like I was never going to let go. Post-trauma reality sometimes creeps in, while other times it hits like a freight train. All at once, Michelle began weeping and I felt a warm tear fall from her eye and run down the side of my face. After a long moment she sniffled, then whispered to me, I thought Id never see you again. She sniffled a couple more times and continued, I thought Id never get the chance to tell you how I feel about youand that I love you. I looked into her eyes, then smiled and let her know, Ive been in love with you from the first moment I met you. She smiled back at me, then laughed at that while continuing to weep at the same time. We stood there for a few more minutes, silently celebrating. Finally, I whispered to her, We need to get off this ship before Michelle nodded, acknowledging what I was saying without my having to finish. We tossed the blankets onto the bed, then put on the clothes and jackets that Tim had provided for us and headed back out to the deck. There, I first spoke with Paige, who was justifiably proud of herself for tracking us down and saving usdespite my firm orders for her to stay away from the ship. You so owe me, Mr. Van Essen, she said with a big grin. I patted young Paige on the back and reminded her, As my paid assistant, everything you did falls within the scope of your job duties including using your intuition to defy my orders and come looking for me. Michelle nudged me and let me know, The girl saved your life and mine. I think you owe her, Craig, and big-time. Big-time was one of those clich and overused words I hate. I needed to reward Paige without her thinking what she done was above and beyond the call of dutythough it was. Or that Id be forever in her debtthough I probably should be. I looked at Paige and told her, Youve always been entitled to the benefits of being my assistant. Youve just never asked what they were.
What benefits? Besides your salary, which is generous, Ill pay for your college educationincluding all expensesas long as you maintain at least a 3.0 average. I saw a smile come to her face, and caught Michelle nodding as though she was impressed with that. I continued, In addition, Ill buy you a car of your choice upon your graduation as long as you agree to continue with me as my assistant. What if the car I want is a Mercedes? Then its yoursupon graduation. Shrewdly, she turned to Michelle. Using my ally to negotiate against me, Paige asked her, Do you think its fair, like, after everything Ive done, that I have to wait until All right, I said, foreseeing my defeat, you can have the car now. I pointed my finger at her and began, Just dont smash it up, or drink and drive, or let it get towed Before I could continue, she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. Thanks, Mr. Van Essen! I knew you were a softie. Softie? Well, I needed to change topics big-time, so I looked at Tim and told him, You and I will need to take care of Amol Thorsens body. Ive done that already, he said. While you and Miss Fontaine were changing clothes, I took the liberty of transporting the body to the ships morgue. Wow. He went on, In addition, there was another security guard, one of Gundersens underlings, who was a definite threat Was it the chubby guard with the? I pointed to the left side of my face. Tim nodded at that. Gustav. He continued, Hes handcuffed and locked in a holding cell right now.
I Tasered the livin crap out of him, Paige added, proudly. Hes a human spark plug now. I held back a grin and asked Tim, Did you check his phone? I have it right here,Tim patted his pocketand so far no calls. Was this guy efficient or what? I should make him my second assistant. I told him, In that case, we should exit this ship ASAP. I need to take the ladies to somewhere where theyll be safe. Tim had that covered, too. I have a boat downstairs, he said. The four of us can head downriver. He pointed to a jetty about a half mile beyond the main pier. Once there, we can go ashore for help. I appreciated that, but I had to let him in on a small part of a big secret, I dont have time to explain, Tim, but I just want to get Michelle and Paige to where theyll be safe. The last thing we want is to get the police involved. He seemed to mentally and efficiently digest that for a moment. He then suggested, Lets head down to the boat. Once we reach shore, the three of you can do what you want. He looked me in the eye and added, Ill keep this from the cops, too, if thats what you want. I gave smart Tim a nod. Maybe he was hoping Id buy him a Mercedes too. Not happening. Anyway, the four of us left the main deck and went from there to the outside staircase, which we took straight down to the long floating pier. Docked inside a small slip at one end was a nice eighteen foot center console with a small 4-stroke outboard motor. I help the ladies aboard, then removed all the dock lines while Tim warmed up the motor. After I jumped in, we pulled out of the slip and were soon underway. I wanted to make it to the jetty unseen, so I asked Tim to leave all the lights off, which he did. Tim handled the wheel like a pro, and the little outboard was nice and quiet. Ahead to our right, we could see Governors island, which was nicely lit up using taxpayer dollars. To our left, we could see the main dock, which now had a new ship being prepared for unloading. I didnt think anyone would be able to see us this far from shore, and I hoped no one would have a reason to be watching. As far as old Bjorn
Gundersen knew, Michelle and I were now as good as canned tuna at the bottom of the riveralong with his ex-partner. Paige was sitting at the console next to Tim, and seemed to be working on him. After a few minutes, she gave Tim a break and leaned forward to ask me, So, whats the plan? What are we doing next? There is no plan. I just want to get you and Michelle away from the ship, and somewhere safe from Gundersen and his stooges. Then what? Then thats it. What about Gundersen? she asked. What about him? You and Michelle just need to lay low until we know hes been apprehended. You should go after the son-of-a-bitch. I made no reply. Is it all right to call him a son-of-a-bitch, she asked, or is that, like, an insult to bitches? Michelle was seated next to me, and I heard her chuckle. I cleared my throat and told Paige, That sounds kind of vulgar. She explained, Im from Brooklyn, where we speak Brooklynese, okay? Cussing and vulgarity are part of our primary language. You cant converse without the two. I suggested, You should to learn to speak like a lady, like Michelle. At that, Michelle let out a laugh. She turned around and told Paige, Obviously, he hasnt heard me when Im angry. You should go blow his brains out, Paige told me. Does that sound better? Still too vulgar. Then I give up. After that, Paige seemed to be thinking about something and asked me, Did Gundersen have a helicopter on the ship? Yeah. Why?
I saw it take off earlier, when it was still daylight. Where did it go? It took off from the back of the ship, then went to a heliport right there. She pointed off the port quarter to a long pier which appeared to be less than a mile upriver. Thats where it landed. Are you sure? She nodded. Okay, then I do have a plan. We continued toward the jetty with the cold wind blowing in our faces. I was looking forward to getting Paige and Michelle to safety. At the same time, I was working on a plan that would probably get me into trouble. Tim was still being cooperative and efficient, and agreed to escort the ladies by taxi to where Paiges aunt and uncle lived, which she said was a ritzy brownstone located in Dyker Heights, about three miles from the jetty. In the event that I was unable to stop Gundersen, this should also be out of the possible flood zone. I think. Hopefully, it was at least a three-story. Tim also agreed to let me continue using the boat after they all got out, though Paige and Michelle didnt know about that yet. I think Tim really had his heart set on a Mercedes. Before long, we reached the long narrow jetty where Tim pulled up rather efficiently beside a steel ladder which led up to the dock. After tying the boat, I helped Paige up the ladder first, who was followed by Tim. After that, I gave Michelle a kiss, whispered a few things in her ear, and sent her up the ladder as well. Once she reached the top, I began to untie the ropes. What are you doing? she asked. Ill have to meet up with you later. In the meantime, stay with Tim and Paige, okay? What? Where are you going? Im going after Bjorn Gundersen.
Why? I have to stop him, I said, which was true. Well, she couldnt argue with that. She made a frown and told me, I want you back in one piece, Craig Van Essen. I will be, I assured her, though I knew that wasnt necessarily true. You be careful. I will, I lied. Paige didnt appear too surprised as she stared down at me from the dock. What are you going to do to him? I turned the key and started the motor, then looked up told her, Im going to blow the son-of-a-bitchs brains out.
Chapter 46
They say mistakes are proof that you are at least trying. In this business, mistakes can also be a sure way to get yourself and those around you killedwhether youre trying or not. I wanted to stop Gundersen before he destroyed New York City and murdered about a million people. That was right up there at the top of my to-do list for tonight, and there wasnt going to be a lot of room for mistakes. I was also hoping to survive the night so I could see Michelle again, though that might be pushing it. I kept the boat cruising at half-throttle and stayed about 100 yards from shore as I headed up the river toward the small heliport that Paige had spotted earlier. With any luck, Id find Gundersen there and Id have the chance to crush all of his hopes and plansand his skull while I was at it. I was counting on the element of surprise. This was mainly because, with the exception of Tims night-stick and my sharp sense of humor, I was unarmed. Earlier, Tim had offered me a set of handcuffs, which I politely declined. I wasnt planning on taking any prisoners tonight. I thought about what I should expect when I arrived at the chopper. Hopefully, Id be able get to Gundersen before he could pull out his gunassuming he had one. Id have to remember to watch out for Emerald, too, who seemed like the kind of girl who never left the house unpreparedand Im not talking about having a purse full of condoms. It was a relief to have Paige and Michelle in safe hands. Now that that was taken care of, I was able to think more clearly about what was left of my mission. I felt remarkably calm, which was odd, considering, and I figured I was subconsciously saving my adrenaline for later, waiting for when Id really need it. The night sky was black and starless. A frigid wind was still coming in from the east and I had to compensate for it at the wheel. After I passed Governors Island, I took in the magnificent Manhattan skyline, which was now shimmering in the night. I then looked up at the ship,
the Agnes Ann. For some reason, it appeared smaller and less daunting from this viewpoint, though I knew Id be happy if I never saw it again. I then turned and glanced over to the main pier where I saw that the ship docked there was now being unloaded. Standing on the near end of the pier, I noticed a big guy, and he seemed to be looking at me with binoculars. I also noticed he was standing next to a black Escalade, and I realized at once who it was. Luis Lacorde. And there was the adrenaline moment I was waiting for. Right here was where the shit would start and where the men would be separated from the boys. In this kind of work, you can take all the courses you want, read all the field training manuals in the world, and have a dozen spy gadgets charged-up and ready to goand still not be ready. If you dont have what it takes, if you dont have that special indefinable something deep inside that you have to be born with, then this would be the time to consider a career change. For me, well, I was the Presidents Agent, and this is where I earn my paycheck. Immediately, I hit the throttle and veered the boat straight toward where Lacorde was standing. Naturally, he wasnt expecting this and took a few steps back, then glanced around before he reached into his jacket and pulled out what looked like a huge handgun. Big guys, Ive noticed, always think they need a big gun, which is just stupid. Right now Id settle for a pellet rifle. Just before he squeezed off a shot from his cannon, I swerved hard to the left and ducked behind the huge cargo ship. There, I was invisible to him for the moment, but I knew Id have to deal with him face to face before I could get to Gundersen. The only way to get Luis Lacorde was to keep doing the unexpected. He was big, like a caveman, and with a small brain to match. Having to think things through probably slowed him down. When I reached the far end of the cargo ship that divided him and me, I did the one thing hed never predict: I backed off the throttle and eased around the ships bow. Then, I quickly reversed the boat to the end of the pier and grabbed onto a thick rope hanging down from above. Holding the
rope, I placed the gear lever into forward and inched the throttle to about one-third. Holding onto the rope, I pulled myself up out of the boat as it headed away from the pier. I hid myself in the shadows under the docks short overhang and watched as the small boat slowly made its way out into the East River. About twenty second later, just as expected, I heard Lacordes SUV come screeching to a halt right above me. As he hopped out of the vehicle I noticed his huge shadow over the water and I could tell he was talking on his cell phone. I heard him yell to the person on the other end, Just get here now! That was followed by, Yes, I saw him with my own eyes! After that, he apparently hung up and pulled out his gun once again. The gunshot sounded like a mortar round exploding, and I saw the bullet splash into the water behind the boat. He then fired a few more rounds, though with no better luck. While the boat moved further into the distance, I heard the sound of a motorcycle skidding up to where Lacorde was standing, causing bits of sand and gravel to land in the water in front of me. The rider spoke with Lacorde for a moment, though I couldnt make out much of what was being said. After that, I heard Lacorde climb back in his car and peel away. I could still see the shadow of the motorcyclist above me, and I decided to make my way around to the back side of the dock platform. Quietly, I stepped along the narrow ledge until I reached the corner. Suddenly, I slipped on a slick piece of concrete. Before I could regain my balance, my right foot splashed into the water. Quickly, I pulled myself around the corner. From there, I peered back and could see the shadow of the rider as he stooped down to see what the sound was. With great caution, I moved my right eye close to the corner where I caught a glimpse of his face. It was Diego. And his damned hair was still perfect. Further to my left, I spotted a concrete stairway leading up to the top. I crept silently to the stairs and went up on my belly, one stair at a
time, until I was close to the top. There, I could see Diego clearly and he was only about fifty feet away. Better yet, he had his back to me. I took a look around and saw no one, so I climbed to my feet and took the club from my belt clip. Taking soft, quick steps, I crept up behind Diego while he busied himself tapping away at his phone screen. He seemed like a busy fellow and had probably been in the middle of having his nails done when Lacorde called him out here. As I got close, he suddenly slipped the phone into his jacket and started the engine. As he was about to put on his helmet, he glanced into his right side mirror and must have gotten a glimpse of me sneaking up from behind. In an instant, he pulled a gun out from under his jacket and turned to point it at me. As he did, I was ready with the club. I swung sideways at his wrist, which sent the gun flying to the ground. He dropped the motorcycle on its left side and rolled away in a flash. The engine was still running on the bike, a BMW enduro, and the shift lever apparently popped into gear so the rear wheel was spinning and flinging gravel into my face. I wiped my eyes and looked over at Diego and saw he was now crouched in a karate stance. Before I could react, he jumped over the motorcycle and spun around, landing a chop into my throat. I fell to the ground gasping, but managed to hold onto the club as I scrambled back to my feet. It was a fair hit, so I wasnt too pissed. One point for Diego. I then turned and ducked just in time to avoid a fist in my face. Before Diego could step back, however, I swung and cracked the club solidly into his right knee. One point for Van Essen. I managed to take a quick breath as I watched him drop to the ground. Before he could do any more harm, I swung the club at his back shoulder. He surprised me by rolling away from the attack. Before I knew what was happening, he managed to turn and swing his left leg under me, then, unexpectedly, he kicked me in the groin. Now that pissed me off. For that bullshit, he gets one point deducted.
I rolled to the side in agony for a few seconds. After that, I climbed to my feet while I mentally handled the pain. I did this by holding my breath, biting my lip, and pushing the thought of it out of my mind none of which did anything to help me feel better. What did help was to charge right at the bastard like a linebacker while smashing the side of his head with the club. I went ahead and gave myself two points for that. Diego was down for the count, but I wasnt done yet. In the midst of my rage, a crazy idea came to me. I grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to where the motorcycle tire was still spinning. I held his face in the spokes for a second or two, then tossed him aside. Now I felt better. At this point, I considered myself the victor. If I counted right, it was Van Essen twelve, Diego negative four. Or something like that. I looked over at him and felt no remorse for what Id done. He would never model again, that was for sure, but he could always find work as a motorcycle safety spokesman, right? Anyway, thats what he gets for kicking me in the nads. That was also his little reward for helping Gundersen lock Michelle, Tjuren, and me inside the container. He was lucky I didnt rip his head off. That would have been a forfeit. I pulled his phone from his pocket and flung it out into the water. I also grabbed his gun from the ground and checked it. It was a nice Ruger 9 mm compact with ten in the clip, plus one in the chamber. I placed the gun inside my jacket. As you can surely tell, Im all about safety, so I put on Diegos helmet, though I thought it smelled like womans hairspray inside. I then pulled his bike up from the ground while holding the clutch lever. It was still tender in the land down under, so I climbed on rather gingerly. Just as I was about to take off, I checked my mirror and saw Lacordes SUV approaching fast. With any luck, hed assume I was Diego, especially with the helmet, and the bloody-faced guy on the ground was no one to be concerned with. Of course, not even Lacorde is quite that stupid. I hit the throttle.
Chapter 47
Though polite society teaches us otherwise, sometimes it takes more than determination or a sense of purpose in order to accomplish something. Having great strength, speed, and agility isnt always enough either. Sometimes, it just takes having more guts than your opponent. More backbone. More balls. This was one of those times. I needed to beat Luis Lacorde to the heliport where I hoped Gundersen would be waiting. With its peppy 1200cc power plant, my new BMW enduro bike made me feel like I had a rocket in my ass as I tore across the shipyard. I glanced over at the blur in my small mirror and was surprised to see that Lacorde was gaining on me nonetheless. Of course, his gas-guzzling Caddy probably had a five-million cubic inch motor, so he should be able to do one-fifty even if hed had a nine-foot snowplow bolted to the front. Ignoring the patches of ice here and there, I aimed the bike between a couple of containers lined up in the midst of the shipyarda space wide enough for me, but too narrow for Lacordes unwieldy mastodon. Once through, I kept the throttle twisted as I headed straight toward a partially opened security gate at the corner of the shipyard. I could see a worried-looking guard standing in the opening, and he was waving at me frantically. I wasnt sure, but I think he wanted me to stoplike that was going to happen. He jumped out of the way just as I sped through the small opening. After that, I hit the brakes while pitching the bike sideways, then downshifted and wove through a tight intersection. Right behind me, I heard a crashing sound. It sounded suspiciously like a Cadillac SUV ramming through a gate, and guessed that Lacorde was right behind me again. Wasting no time, I took a sharp left onto narrow Hamilton Road, which I soon discovered was a one-way street. I realized this when the driver of an oncoming car spotted me and went straight for his primary weapon: his horn. In true New York fashion, the driver also flashed his hi-beams at me. With a helmet I couldnt hear much, but Im sure he didnt forget to roll down his window and treat me to a few words of endearment while he was at it.
After racing past the car, I turned to look and was surprised to see the Lacorde family truckster just fifty feet behind me. At this rate, hed be able to flatten me before I made it to the next intersection. To my right, I spotted a toll road heading into a tunnel. This, I knew, was the Hugh Carey Tunnel, which leads under the river, under Governors Island, and comes out in southern Manhattan. I wasnt as concerned with destinations right now as much as I was in losing Luis Lacorde. Before my pal Lacorde could turn me into road kill, I swerved to the right, then hit the brakes and went sideways. Quickly, I turned into an entrance lane heading to the tunnel. Fortunately, one of the toll booth lanes was clear and I blasted right through and went straight into the tunnel. As I did this, I knew that a traffic-cam will have automatically snapped a shot of the bikes license plate and a computer was already processing a hefty citation which would be sent to the registered owner. Ha. I rode into the tunnel. Here, I figured I could use the bikes small size and maneuverability to lose Lacorde for goodif I hadnt already. After a few hundred feet, however, I spotted trouble. New York kind of trouble. Traffic. Just then, as I hit the brakes, I looked back and spotted my buddy in the familiar black behemoth, and I was sure he had me in his crosshairs. The stopped cars ahead were too scattered over the narrow lanes to ride through, and Id be at risk getting stuck within firing range of the relentless bastards big cannon. Seeing no other alternative, I stopped, quickly downshifted, then revved the engine while holding the front brake. This trick allowed me to remain almost stationary while I spun the bike ninety degrees or so to where I was now facing the left wall of the tunnel. Lacorde was barreling toward me fasttoo fast, in factand I could tell he was planning to flatten me like a piece of meat into the line of traffic. Just as he hit his brakes and began skidding in my direction, I released the front brake. The bike leaped forward out of the way. At the same time, Lacorde slid behind me right into the row of cars, crashing the front of his nice Caddy into the ass-end of an even nicer vehicle, a Maserati convertible.
I was sure that this failure, along with the prospect of increased insurance premiums, had Lacorde pissed. As I hit the throttle and began heading quickly back in the direction I came, I saw Lacorde jump out of his car. To my surprise, he pulled out his gun right there and immediately fired a shot, which sailed past my head and blasted a hole into the tiled wall to my right. With the second shot he got luckier and hit my rear wheel. At once, the air exploded from the tire and I lost control, dropping to the ground and rolling while crashing my left knee into the concrete. As I slowly climbed to my feet, I looked back and saw Lacorde with his big gun raised and pointed right at me. Before I could think to react, I saw him pull the trigger and I braced myself for the inevitable. Instead of a loud bang, however, the gun must have made a faint clicking sound. The idiot was out of bullets. For a brief moment, Lacorde had an even dumber look on his face than usual. I wasnt sure what would happen next until he tossed the gun onto the front seat of the wrecked Caddy and started running straight at me. The dumb look on his face had now turned into an angry-looking knotted mass of veins and teeth. Upon seeing this, I limped back to my bike as fast as I could and hopped onnot quite so gingerly this timeand pressed the starter. The motor sputtered a few times, then died. I took a split-second to curse the world, which it deserved, then tried again. This time, the motor started right up, then died once more. I looked behind me and saw Lacorde, who looked like a raging rhino coming at me, and knew I had about five seconds to do something. I knew five seconds wasnt quite enough time to pull my gun out and get a shot off. Besides, I was saving the bullets for Gundersen anyway, so I trusted my weak faith in German engineering and pressed the starter button one more time. Fortunately, the motor startedand stayed startedand I twisted the throttle so hard I thought I might snap the cable. Lacorde was close enough that I felt him grab the rear fender for a second. He was forced to let go as I accelerated, but continued running after me as I sped back up the ramp and out of the tunnel. A bike like this can ride on low tire pressure just fine. Even though my rear tire had a bullet hole and no air, it still moved along well
enough, though I knew Id have to keep the speed down and watch out for big bumps. I was going the wrong way again, and had to quickly dodge another oncoming car. This time the driver was a woman. She was quick and immediately swerved out of our way. She then slammed on the brakes, blew her horn, and gave Lacorde and me a friendly Welcome to New York gesturea one-finger salute. Neither of us had time to return her greeting as we neared the tunnel entrance. Amazingly, Lacorde was only about a hundred feet or so behind me, so I steered the bike to the right where the tunnel ended and sped across the short median. There, I first looked for oncoming cars, then merged nicely into the line of vehicles exiting the tunnel. As I approached the toll booths again, I slowed and looked back. Behind me, I saw Lacorde sprinting at full speed down the median and he didnt appear to be slowing down. I was about to overtake the car ahead of me when I saw him run into the lane of traffic coming out of the tunnel. Unlike me, however, Lacorde wasnt safety-minded enough to know to look first and he ran directly into the path of a fast-moving city transit bus. I watch as the bus driver nailed her brakes while laying on her horn, which must be the standard operational procedure here. Lacorde looked just in time to see the grill coming at him, but a bit too late to jump out of the way. I was glad Id worn the helmet, especially after crashing, but I wish I could have heard the dull thud sound when the front end of the bus slammed into him. Seeing it, though, was satisfying enough. After that fiasco, I pulled up to the self-pay booth and paid the toll in cash. I felt like I should leave a tip, so I put a fifty in the machine and left the change. Well, Diego and Lacorde were down for the count, and the world was now a better place. At least for me. This, of course, was the easy part of the hard part of my mission. I had a feeling that stopping Bjorn Gundersen would be different. True, the man was crazy as a shithouse rat. Unfortunately, he wasnt stupid.
Chapter 48
In truth, nobody cares what you did yesterday or what you are going to do tomorrow. What is important is what you are doing now to solve the problem. Right now I was on my way to visit my old friend, Bjorn Gundersen. He was the problem. Until I come up with a better solution, I was going to follow Paige ONeills humble advice and go blow his brains out. That should fix the problem. Simple, right? Anyway, I figured that unless Gundersen started taking his medications again and had a change of heartwhich was highly unlikelyhe would probably be waiting for the tide to be just right before he and Emerald took the chopper out for a spin. Though old Tjuren wasnt certain about it, he had figured that Gundersen would probably need to be within twenty miles of the device for a radio signal to reach it and activate the detonator. I wasnt sure exactly when the tide would be right for Gundersens calculations, but I hoped he was still waiting at the heliport. After the scene in the tunnel, I figured the NYPD folks might be looking for someone who fit my exact description. To play it safe, I headed toward a big construction zone that Id seen north of where the Agnes Ann had been unloaded. From what I could tell, the site extended along the shoreline all the way to where the heliport was located. A light drizzle had begun again, and I wiped the visor on my helmet before I stopped my bike and got off at a corner of the construction area. There were warning signs on the silt barrier fence which surrounded the property, posted every two inches to ward off trespassers and to maybe to keep the local mobsters from burying bodies in there. I picked a spot where the black fabric on the fence was partly ripped, and helped it by ripping it the rest of the way to the ground. I climbed back onto my bike, started it, then squeezed through the opening and rode up to the top of a steep dirt pile. From up there, I was able to clearly see the heliport at the end of a pier about a thousand feet away. I thought I could see Gundersens chopper, a
maroon and black Bell 505, though it was too dark and drizzly to be sure. Locking the rear brake, I slid the bike down the front of the mud pile, then began picking my way through the maze of concrete forms, heavy equipment, and trailers. When I was about half way to the heliport, the lights inside one of the trailers came on and I turned to see someone step out of the door. This was probably the night watchman, and I noticed he was holding a megaphone. Even with my helmet on, I could hear him yelling to me, Stop right there! Stop now or Ill call the police! I was sure hed be calling the police whether I stopped or not, so I hit the throttle and sped through a mud puddle, then shot across a long section of old concrete until I reached a long, high pile of gravel. I rode that to the top, then carefully down the other side. There, I maneuvered between a few stacks of drainage pipe until I arrived close to where the next pier began. I looked around and knew this had to be the pier with the heliport at the end, so I followed a narrow trail to the side of it, then popped my front wheel over the ledge and rode up onto the pier itself. Up ahead I could see yet another guard shack. Everything here seemed to be either guarded, gated or both. Wheres the trust, right? Aside from the guard shack, there was also a big chain link fence dividing the heliport area and its expensive flying machines from the riffraff and the general public, neither of which included me. I was a busy man, so I rode right up to the gate next to the shack. On the other side of the gate, I saw a black chopper descending out of the sky and preparing to land. More importantly, I could see Gundersens chopper on the far end of the platform. With its dark glass and all the drizzle I couldnt make out who was seated inside it, but I could see that the rotor was spinning fast and it looked like they were preparing to take off at any second. A guard stepped out of the small shack and approached me. As he got closer, I lifted my visor and said to him in a loud, authoritative voice, Im a federal agent. I need you to open this gate at once.
The guard, who looked like a timid fellow, seemed shocked. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word I told him, I dont have time to answer questions. Open the gate now understand? He seemed perplexed, as if opening the gate for an armed, dangerous-looking guy on a stolen motorcycle might be grounds for some kind disciplinary action. If I were him, Id just call the cops and let them handle the so-called federal agent, but I guess Im different. Thats why hes a security guard and Im not. I told him, I need to stop that guy in the maroon and black chopper before he can detonate a bomb. I looked the guard in the eye and told him again, and in no uncertain terms, Open the fucking gate! He looked as though he might wet himself, but finally did what I wouldnt have done and went into the shack and hit a button, opening the automated gate mechanism. I gave him a quick nod as I dumped the clutch and tore into the heliport at full throttle. I wasnt sure whether Gundersen and Emerald had seen me coming or not, but I heard the whine of their engine increase and saw the tail of the chopper begin to lift. I couldnt grab my gun while weaving around the other helicopters on the way to theirs, but I knew I had to do something to stop them from getting away. I slowed for a second and ducked as I passed under the spinning rotor of another chopper, the black one that had just landed, then sped up again. I was heading straight at Gundersen and Emerald now and could see their faces through the tinted Plexiglas. I could also see they were just beginning to take off and I had to come up with a way to stop themand fast. I considered riding the bike straight into them, but then pictured myself plastered to their windscreen. I also pictured Emerald being undeterred by that, flipping the wiper switch on before continuing with her flight plan. Ignoring higher intellect, I followed my primal instincts which told me to go full speed. Just as I got within fifty feet of them, I stood and jumped off the bike. As I fell and tumbled across the landing pad, I saw my nice BMW crash right in front of where Gundersen was seated. Bulls-eye.
This probably caused him to drop a log into his drawers. The nose of the cockpit was smashed in, but Emerald continued her takeoff. As she did, I noticed that my motorcycle had wrapped itself around the right skid. From the landing pad, I watched as they gained altitude while I removed my helmet and tossed it to the side. I had no way to know if they could see me or if they recognized me, but if they did, theyd have to be more than a bit surprised. I was hurting from the fall, mainly at my knees and elbows, but I could still move well enough to reach into my jacket and pull out my gun. I flipped off the safety and aimed right at the engine compartment. I fired two quick shots, then noticed just in time that the motorcycle had worked its way loose from the skid and was dropping from the skyand I was ground zero. Quickly, I rolled out of the way just as the machine crashed into a million pieces onto the platform, missing me by mere inches. In that same instant, the bikes gas tank exploded, showering me with a spray of flaming gasoline. At once, I wiped my hair and face, then began to roll across the ground in a desperate effort to extinguish the flames. As I did this, I saw the pilot of the black chopper running toward me. Thankfully, he was carrying a portable fire extinguisher. Without a moments hesitation, he blasted me from one end to the other with CO2. After that, he knelt beside me and patted my burning clothes for a few seconds, making sure I wasnt going to burst into flames again. After a few seconds, he asked, Are you all right? I wasnt sure if I was, but I nodded anyway. I called the cops already. They should be here soon. As soon as I could, I caught my breath and told him, Im the cops. Im a Federal agent. Well, sir, youre lucky to be alive. I nodded. Thanks for putting out the fire. No problem. Now I need to borrow your helicopter, if you dont mind.
He began to laugh, then realized I was serious. He looked at me and said, Sorry, pal, but I cant let you do that. That helicopter isnt mine. It belongs to I dont care who it belongs to. I climbed to my feet, checked my gun, and began staggering in the direction of his chopper. For some reason, the man seemed troubled by this and told me again, I cant let you take that aircraft without the permission of I turned and told him, Youre not letting me take it. Im stealing it. UhI cant let you steal it, either. I stared into his eyes and told him the truth, If I dont stop that other chopper, about a million people in this city are going to die. What? I dont have time to explain. At that, I continued limping toward the black helicopter while I took the opportunity to check again that the safety on my gun was set. Noticing my gun, the man thought for a moment and asked me, Can I at least fly it for you? As I reached the aircraft, I opened the door and explained, In all probability, Im going to be shot down over the Atlantic Ocean and be killed. I looked at him and asked, Do you want to be part of that? While he searched for an answer I climbed in and shut the door. Quickly, I buckled up and looked at my reflection in the windscreen. I noticed a trace of smoke coming from my collar, and patted it until it stopped. I also noticed flashing blue lights in the distance, and I figured the NYPD were heading this way. To be honest, I hadnt flown a chopper in a long time. I glanced over the gauges quickly and tried to remember what I knew about flying one of these stupid things. I started the turbine, which came to life at once with a long loud howl. I put on my headphones to save my eardrums, then checked my fuel levels, pressure gauges, and such in preparation for takeoff. While the engine warmed, I looked to the dark, starless sky and took a few seconds to think about what I was doing. They say a truly brave
man acknowledges the strengths of his opponent. In that case, Ill try to remember to do that for Bjorn Gundersen. After Ive killed him, of course.
Chapter 49
Churchill once said, Success is not final; and failure is not fatal Well, what Winston said may be true some of the time, but not all failures are learning opportunities. If a million New Yorkers die and Manhattan is flooded under thirty feet of water because I failed, then Id call that a fatal fuckup. Talk about pressure, right? Winston also offered some hard advice for the worried and despondent of his time, If youre going through Hell, he said, keep going. Well, I think some things go without saying. As for me, I felt like Id been stuck on the Hell Turnpike all day, and I havent spotted any exit ramps or rest stops yet. Not that I was looking. Anyway, I positioned my feet on the pedals and got a feel for the tail rotor. With one hand on the cyclic stick and the other on the collective, I hit the throttle and began my ascent. As I was getting used to the controls, I leaned into the cyclic too far, then overreacted a bit. This caused me to press on the left pedal slightly, which made me look like an idiot to anyone that was watching from below. Fortunately for me, I didnt give a shit. After a few gentle pulls here and pushes there, I had it down. Once Id reached an altitude of a few hundred feet, I pushed the stick forward and headed after Gundersen and Emerald. I could see the lights of their chopper ahead in the distance, and I brought the RPMs higher in an effort to catch up. I doubted they were too worried about being followed, and I was hoping that Emerald was at cruising speed, which would give me a chance to catch up to them. Wont they be surprised? I was getting the hang of flying this thing, and a lot of what Id learned long ago was coming back to me. In flight school, I remember being told that the real knack of flying a chopper is learning how to aim at the ground and miss. Hopefully, I had that part thoroughly down. In the meantime, I was freezing, so I found the heater controls and made a quick adjustment. After that, I played with the controls until I
thought I had the airspeed about maxed out. I then sat back and waited to catch up with the other chopper, at least to where I was within shooting distance. They say there is a fine line between bravery and idiocyand I felt like Id been walking that line all day.
Chapter 50
Whether youre a solider, an astronaut, a spy, or whatever: if youve ever been sent on a vital missionespecially one where innocent lives hang in the balanceyou know that when things get nuts and it all comes down to you, a funny phenomenon often occurs. Your life, the living breathing part of you, takes the passenger seat, so to speak. The familiar stranger now behind the wheel is focused on only one thing: the mission. And he doesnt seem too concerned about the whole living breathing thing. I knew that I had to stop Gundersen, and I had to do this before he could activate the machine. I was now certain that this was what he and the crew had lowered into the sea just before we arrived in New York. Knowing Gundersen, he would surely do the same deadly thing hed done in Tokyo. That is, he would have selected a geographically unstable and susceptible spot to place the machine. If what Tjuren told me was right, Gundersen could use a simple radio frequency signal to begin the whole process. Once activated, the device would cause an earthquake to begin below the surface. This, in turn, would cause the already prone area to quake and collapse beneath the weight of the sea. Under the right conditions, New York would be hit with a surge of unthinkable proportions. There would be no warning, no time to evacuate, and no way to stop it. Luckily for me, Id stolen a bigger and more powerful helicopter than my adversarys. This, plus the fact that Emerald was maintaining a steady cruising speed, allowed me to catch up with them before we were over the ocean. I waited until I was positioned about two- hundred feet above them before I pulled out my only weapon: Diegos little 9 mm compact. Im sure it went well with his purse. I popped open a small vent on the side window, then dropped down closer. I had my lights off, but I knew theyd hear me soon if they hadnt already. I had to get a few shots off before Emerald could begin evasive maneuvers. Once I was about fifty feet above them and to their right, I held the gun out through the vent and squeezed off four shots. It was difficult to aim through the small opening, but I tried pointing two of the shots
in the general direction of the engine compartment, which I knew was located close to the fuel tanks. The other two shots were aimed at Mr. Gundersen himself. Seconds after this, their chopper banked hard to the left. In a remarkable maneuver, Emerald managed to bring her altitude up and swing toward me while maintaining the same forward direction. Right after that, I saw a small flash of light, which was immediately followed by something that sounded exactly like a bullet traveling through one side of my cockpit and out the other. This, of course, was followed by more flashes and more funny sounds. Ive learned that theres no such thing as a small firefight. This is especially true when bullets are blasting holes in your cockpit, missing by mere inches such vital things as hydraulic lines, fuel tanks, and your skull. Even though it was just me against them and we were using only handguns, it felt like World War III had broken out. This type of situation is where a really high-power weapon would have been handylike something thats belt-fed and mounted on a steel turret. Or maybe, for example, something heat-seeking that fires out of a big launcher at the flip of a switch. Or anything with the words warhead or anti as part of its description. But no. This is the real world, and Id have to settle for my little handgun and its one clip of cheap ammoboth of which were probably purchased from a discount sporting goods store with a ten-percent off coupon. Suddenly, I noticed a faint clunking sound coming from behind me. At once, I checked my gauges. Ive learned that the longer you stare at the gauges, the less time it takes them to move from green to red, so I concentrated on keeping near Gundersen while staying out of his line of fire. This got hairy fast, especially since Emerald was a much more experienced chopper pilot than me. The two of us were playing the same dangerous game of chicken while trying to get each other lined up for a decent shot. Soon, we were banking hard, swinging from one side to the other and swerving left and right. Its good to remember that in a chopper, running out of pedal, fore or aft cyclic, or collective are all bad ideas. Any simultaneous combination of these can be deadly.
For a brief moment, Emerald hesitated while she was still in my range of fire. Without wasting a second, I pointed my gun back out through the vent and fired four more shots. This left me one last bullet. If Id counted right, that is. It might sound crazy, but I actually consider myself to be a lucky guyespecially to have been selected for this job. To me, it's the chance for escapism and an adrenaline rush. Aside from the basic mission, that's essentially what being an agent should be about. The thrill. Its what you dream of in this business. Some agents are stuck at a desk all day while others comb through garbage dumps, old files, or paper shredders looking for clues. Right now, I was an escaped prisoner with fake IDs flying a stolen chopper while shooting at another chopper using a stolen handgun. So far, Ive been sedated, beaten with a club, Tasered a few times, almost poisoned, almost drowned, wrecked a stolen motorcycle, got karate chopped and kicked where it counts, caught on fire, and been shot at several times. Plus a bunch of other shit. But if the mission succeeds, I save New York. So you can see why I consider myself lucky. Id be even luckier if I could find a few more bullets.
Chapter 51
I didnt want to start celebrating just yet, but it looked like I might have got lucky with that last shot. I could see a nice cloud of white smoke beginning to pour out of the jet exhaust as well as the entire engine compartment. I think I may have also seen a few bright red sparks spit out of the turbine, which could spell serious engine trouble down the road. There is an old theory which states that the louder the sudden bang in the helicopter, the quicker the pilots eyes will be drawn to the gauges. If that was true, then the many warning buzzers, flashing red lights, and spinning dials on Emeralds instrument panel now had her undivided attention. Theres an even older theory which states, basically, that unless you can completely escape the Earths gravity, you are eventually coming down. Emerald and Gundersen were about to put that theory to the full test as they would soon be running out of thrust, airspeed, altitude, and ideas all at once. Hopefully, theyd be out of ammo, too. With a tight grin on my face, I continued watching as they began a rapid descentdropping from the sky as if they were in a big hurry to reach the crash site before anyone else. A minute later, Emerald was preparing herself for every chopper pilots number two worst nightmare: an emergency landing. I suppose number one would have to be either a high-altitude engine seizure or an emergency landing inside an active volcanobut what are the odds of that? Anyway, I followed her down to where we were only about two- hundred feet above sea level. Any lower than that and wed need sleigh bells. We both maintained that altitude for a minute as we traveled south over a narrow channel, then over a populated area close to the ocean. Once she reached a wide sandy stretch of beach, Emerald dropped even lower and swung east, staying parallel with the shoreline. White smoke was now rolling even heavier out of the rear of the craft, and I was sure they were having trouble breathing inside there.
Finally, Emerald set it down hard on the sand, though everything still looked in one piece from what I could tell. I knew from the nearby roller coaster and amusement rides that this had to be Coney Island beach. I was more accustomed to the controls now, and I swung past them and landed like a pro in the soft sand about a hundred feet away. Quickly, I killed the engine and climbed out with my gun raised and pointed at them. Emerald was standing outside her aircraft already, near the tail section. I looked closely and noticed a gun in her right hand. That, and a few other things led me to conclude that our relationship was on the rocks. Actually, I had hoped she and Gundersen would be on their knees right now, coughing and hacking from the smoke and fumes. Unfortunately, the cabin and flight deck must have been designed to be sealed from the engine compartment. Damned engineers. Gundersen finally opened his door and hopped out. He checked out a fresh bullet hole behind the cabin door and then glanced over at me for a moment, like it was my fault. He then went to the tail where Emerald was standing, out from under the spinning main rotor. In one hand he held a portable radio with an antenna, and I knew this had to be the transmitter. The fact that he was still holding it told me that he had not yet activated the earthquake device. At least I hoped he hadnt. Im not good with math equations, but I knew I had only one bullet left and there were two of them, which was bad. They had no idea how armed or unarmed I was, but that didnt make things better. If I was lucky, theyd used up all their ammo in the dog fight and the gun Emerald was holding was for cosmetic purposes only. First, I pointed my gun at Emerald and yelled, Drop the weapon now! To my surprise, she tossed it into the sand in front of her. Gundersen seemed unconcerned about that and just stood there in front of the tail rotor, which also was still spinning. I pointed the gun directly at him and yelled, Your turn, Bjorn. Drop the transmitter. He gave me the finger. Drop it now or Ill shoot!
Instead of following instructions, which seems to be a point of contention for him, he did something unexpected. In a flash, he stepped in front of Emerald and snatched her gun from the sand. He then stood and prepared to take a shot at me. Quickly, I aimed at him and squeezed the trigger. In that same moment, he ducked down while Emerald remained standing directly behind him. Through the thin puff of smoke from the end of the barrel, I saw that Emerald had taken a headshot. In the CIA, some of the guys liked to say, Its not the bullet that kills you, its the little hole it leaves behind. In that case, I guess Emerald died from having one hole too many. Coincidentally, the shot landed her in what was surely her favorite and most familiar position: flat on her back and with her legs open. I didnt actually know her all that welland I dont mean to speak ill of the deadbut something told me she would have wanted it that way. From the nearby boardwalk, I heard yelling and turned to see two cops running our way with their weapons drawn. I was running out of time, so I pointed my now empty 9 mm at Gundersen. Drop it, I yelled, or youre dead! Undaunted by that, he flipped me the bird again, then raised his gun and fired a shot. I heard the bullet hit something behind me, like the cabin door. Somehow, I managed not to flinch and called to him again, Put the gun down, Bjorn, or Ill Before I could finish, he fired another shot. This one hit me in the chest and I was knocked back against the fuselage of my chopper. I felt the gun fall from my hand as I gasped for air. Almost at once, I could see the walls closing in and I fell to my knees while struggling for a breath. Nonetheless, my mind was alert and I was aware of what had just happened. I was also aware that I was about to die, and that in doing so I had failed my mission, which was the worst part. From my knees, I fell onto my left side. Though I was reduced to tunnel vision, I could still see Gundersen. He was wearing a big smile
now, knowing hed won our little shootout. I watched as he blew the smoke from the end of his barrel and took a step back. As he did that, he suddenly tripped over Emeralds body. I watched as he lost his balance, then took more steps as he stumbled back. To my shock, he fell backward into the still-spinning blade of the tail rotor. The sharp blade caught the top of his head and started chopping. Blood, brains, and bone fragments flew everywhere until almost his entire head was gone. Before my vision went completely black, I saw the radio transmitter fall from his hand as his decapitated body dropped to the ground. Though I was in great pain and gasping for air I was still aware of my surroundings and most of what was going on. Nonetheless, I couldnt control my facial expression. If I could, Id have put on a big silly grin right there. My eyes closed all on their own and the pain in my chest seemed to fade away. I wasnt ready to die just yet, not without seeing Michelle one more time. At the same time, part of me was looking forward to seeing Jessica and Chandis who I knew would be waiting for me on the other side. I was also looking forward to seeing my brother Martin. Oddly, he and I will have suffered the same fatea bullet to the heart. A moment later, I heard the voice of one of the cops that had come running to the scene. Just hang in there, he told me. An ambulance is on the way. I wondered, as I lay there in a weakened state, how many other Presidents Agents had heard those same words.
Chapter 52
A while later, I woke up and saw that I hadnt actually reached the other sideunless the other side looked exactly like the back of an ambulance. There were two guys there with me who looked more like paramedics than angels. One was kind of pudgy-looking while the other was more fit and trim, and together they reminded me of a before and after photo for a diet ad. The pudgy one was checking my pupils with a flashlight. I asked him, Did you go to school for this? He seemed surprised that I was not only awake, but talking. I sure did, he replied. Why do you ask? Because youre looking in the wrong place. I was shot in the chest. He glanced over at Mr. Fit and Trim, then told me, Just relax, sir. You have a serious injury. No shit, I replied. Now listen: theres an underwater bomb out there Please, just try to Shut up and listen! I told him. Right now, this is more important than whether I live or die. As concisely as possible, I described to him and the other paramedic what I knew about Gundersens earthquake device. I also told them where it could be found and explained that they needed to report all this to the authorities as soon as we reached the hospital. I also explained that there was an identical device planted on the floor of the Mediterranean, near San Tropez. I gave them the coordinates for that one, which they wrote down. On top of that, I described to them what I knew about the crew of the Agnes Ann, and that most of them needed to be arrested or brought in for questioning. I remembered to mention where Gustav was being held, too. In addition, I told them about the location of the body of Amol Thorsen, who I would always remember as Tjuren. Lastly, I gave them the address of where Michelle, Paige, and Tim were holed up, and asked that they be informed of my whereabouts.
After all that, the paramedics looked like they could use some medication themselves. I realized that for the uninitiated, that much information that fast was probably a bit overwhelming. I asked the pudgy one, Hey, by any chance is there, like, a Starbucks on the way? Huh? Have you ever tried one of those Caramel Macchiato things? UhI think we should just go straight to the hospital. Maybe you can ask for a coffee when we get there. Its not for me. I was thinking about you guys. They both thought that was funny. Fit and Trim then leaned forward and asked me, May I have your name, sir, if you dont mind? I turned my eyes from him and looked around at all the medical equipment surrounding me. There were tubes and wires everywhere. Through the rear windows, I could see flashing lights and I heard the sound of the siren blaring. We seemed to be traveling at a high speed, but I wasnt sure that wed make it to a trauma center in time. Finally, I looked back at him. My name is Craig Van Essen. I thought for a moment and added, But dont write that down.
-EPILOGUE- Poipu Beach, Kauai, Hawaii Four years later. April 15, 2025.
Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names. ~John F. Kennedy
Every now and then, something fails to fail, and we call it success. I had no reason to doubt that a new Presidents Agent was out there somewhere. He was probably alone and busy stealing somethingor borrowing it with no intention of giving it back. He was probably trying to remember which lie hed told whom, how many bullets he had remaining, and what his current cover story wasall the while formulating a contingency plan in case all hell were to break loose. And it will. He was probably afraid and worried for his life. And he should be. Right now, he was probably beginning to wonder how he had gotten himself into this. And how hed get himself out. Somehow, I managed to survive my missions, which began with Bjorn Gundersen and continued with all the others until the Presidents term was finally over. I was alive, so by that alone I suppose the whole thing could be considered a success. At least by my definition. Physically, I was still in one piece, which was kind of a miracle. My heart, however, was deeply scarredand not only by a bullet. In my role as an agent, I came to know many secrets. Too many, to be honest. Some of these secrets are fascinating and mysterious. Most, however, are unpleasant, while a few turned out to be so frightful and horrid that I wish Id never come to learn of them. My mind is now filled with vivid images, including memories of the terrible things I had seen and the unspeakable things I had done during those years. The lies I told, the deaths I caused, and the many crimes I committed, along with an endless trail of betrayal, deceit, and destruction, would be with me always like a deep stain; a bloodstain that fades slowly over time but is never completely gone. Of all the things Id done, and all the places Id been, and all the faces Id laid eyes on during all those years, nothing stands out more in my mind than the memory of the time I first saw her. I believe in God and in angels. And I believe God sent an angel to me that morning. He sent an angel to let me know that I was loved. An angel to fill my dreams. An angel to give me hope and make me wish to live when it seemed there was nothing else worth living for.
He sent her into my heart, His most beautiful angel, and for that, I should be forever grateful. Hed taken Jessica from me, and my daughter Chandis as well. But Hed left enough room in my soul to love still, and I pray each day that He never take anyone from me again. Today is special, as it is my wedding day. Today I will marry my angel, my gift from heaven. In a few hours, before family and close friends, I will vow to love her foreverand I will with all my heart. Today, I will vow to protect herand I always will, even with my own life. Today, I will gladly give to her all that I am and all that I will ever be. For me, this has been true since the day I first saw her and will be so until the day I die. As I lay there, I noticed the rain had finally stopped and thin rays of morning sunshine were now streaming through my bedroom window. There was a sweet fragrance in the air coming from the many flower gardens and plush plumeria trees surrounding the beautiful estate, and I could hear the sound of countless birds singing from the trees. I climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. In the mirror, I could see the old scar on my chest from where Id been shot, and I thought about my brother. I remembered that we hadnt always agreed on things. Nonetheless, Martin and I had managed to maintain a great respect for each other. In fact, I considered him to be one of the finest persons Ive ever known. He would have loved the estate as well as Kauai itself, and Im sure he would have also been impressed with my bride-to-be. After Id shaved and showered, I went to my closet and began to dress for the big day. As I was buttoning my shirt, a knock came to the door and my dad soon appeared, having let himself in. That was some storm last night, he said to me. Did you sleep all right? I had, like, five glasses of wine last night, remember? I can barely recall going to bed. He smiled. They say that rain on your wedding day is supposed to be a good sign.
That may be true, I replied, but a fortune teller once told me that its bad luck to be superstitious. He smiled again. I looked at my dad. Though his hair had long ago turned white, it was nonetheless full. He was still strong and fit and had the walk and posture of a younger man. His eyes, however, appeared weary. Hed dedicated his life in service to his country and asked for little in return. In doing so, he had allowed himself to see too much of the worlds darkness. Like me, hed glimpsed too many times into the minds of evil men and into the hearts of the wicked and into the souls of the lost and forsaken. He had been a willing part of an organization whose foundations were based on lies, trickery, and deception. An agency so powerful it could make its own rules one day, then break them the next, and with no apologies or explanations. He had lost many close friends. He had lost his oldest son, and had lived to see my wife and daughter buried as well. Like me, he had his own dark secrets hidden somewhere deep inside his heart. Secrets, Im sure, that no man should ever be required to bear. I slipped on my jacket, then turned to my dad and confided, I was thinking about Martin earlier. He nodded. Me too. He wouldnt have missed this for the world. I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment. While I adjusted my collar I asked, Do you mind if I ask you something? That depends. Whats your security clearance? I grinned. Its about Martin. Go ahead and ask. There are a lot of things about his death that seem Suspicious? Yeah. I agree. Whats your question?
I considered that for a moment, then asked, Do you know who Martin was working for before he died? He paused for a moment as he glanced around the room. Dont worry, Dad, the room isnt bugged. Sorry. Old habits. He then cleared his throat and let me know, Ive never told anyone this, but I got myself in trouble at work before I retired. What happened? To tell the truth, I got caught looking through some of Martins files. This surprised me. In fact, thats what caused my abrupt retirement. I looked at him. Why didnt you ever tell me? You had enough to worry about without being dragged into my problems. Besides, Craig, you know I was sworn to secrecy. I let a moment pass, then asked him, What did you find out? Well, Im pretty sure your brother was no longer with the CIA when he died. Who was he working for? There was nothing specific about that in his files, but I found one internal note explaining that he was working outside the agency. They were spying on him? Of course they were, he replied. The note also explained that he was still involved in some sort of espionageextremely top secret stuff, apparentlythough exactly who he was working for was never stated. Maybe they didnt know. That was my conclusion. He drew a deep breath and asked me, What do you make of it? I thought for a moment and replied, Maybe he was involved in some kind of covert operation.
Ive thought about that possibility, he said, but I cant think of even one reason why that would cause him to have to leave the CIA. I mean, they practically invented covert operations. He then pointed to his watch and asked, Isnt there someplace we need to be? I looked at the time. Holy smokes. Lets get out of here. Dad and I headed outside where a limo was waiting to take us from the estate to the Wailua River, which was only a few miles away. Once there, a wedding boat transported the two of us, along with some of our family and close friends up the river to the beautiful Fern Grotto. My lovely bride-to-be was there, which was a good sign, and everything seemed to be in place and ready to go. I stood beside the pastor while I waited for the bride to join me at the mouth of the grotto. As part of the ceremony, a small group of musicians were nearby and singing a beautiful Hawaiian melody while strumming their ukuleles and guitars. During this, I glanced over at my father who looked at me and gave me a simple nod of approval. I felt surprisingly at ease standing there, though my mind was still preoccupied with the things he had told me earlier. I looked out at the small gathering of guests and spotted Paige ONeill, who was one of the bridesmaids. She gave me a pretty smile, then turned and continued conversing with her escort, Jay. While I waited, I thought again about my brother Martin. I pondered the events surrounding his death and the series of happenings that occurred during his final few years. I realized now that he had probably left the CIA sometime around late February to early March of 2009, though hed told none of us about it. While I thought about this, it also occurred to me that hed taken his new position only a few short weeks after the new President had been inaugurated. Based upon that, and what I knew about Martin, and from what my father had told me this morning, I came to a sudden and startling realization: In all likelihood, Martin had been a Presidents Agent. And that explained everything. I also thought about the cause of his death: a gunshot to the chest delivered from a high power rifle. I remember the date, December 22, 2014. I also recall that it had been ruled a hunting accident, though
none of the other hunters boots matched the prints found nearby. In addition, none of their guns matched the bullet that killed him reportedly a .460 magnum, one of the worlds largest, most powerful shoulder-fired cartridges. It was also reported to be a clean shot and directly to the heart. In addition, no shell casing was ever found. At that, I came to a second and even more troubling realization: Martins death, in all likelihood, had not been an accident. As I thought about this, the musicians stopped briefly and then began playing a different tune, which was the wedding march Hawaiian style. One of them blew into a horn, a ceremonial Pu shell, while the rest of the group began strumming their instruments in rhythm. Aside from the music, I could also hear the sounds of birds chirping and singing all around us as they flew about. I turned to see her walking toward me with her proud father at her side. To me, she looked like a vision from heaven and lovely indeed. I felt my throat tighten. Thin rays of sunshine were streaming down through the branches and leaves of the tall trees and the golden light of it fell gently upon her. A delicate Hawaiian lei hung loosely over her tanned shoulders, and I watched as a soft breeze blew through her dark brown hair, which was adorned with bright and fragrant plumeria flowers. I had never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. As she strode gracefully over the rocky surface of the grotto she looked up and our eyes met. I felt my heart skip and I drew a deep breath. In that same instant, I felt a sense of unspoken connection, a bond, so to speak, that Id never felt with anyone before. It was as though something special, something ethereal and magical had somehow reached across a great expanse and touched my souland somehow I knew shed felt it as well. I found myself lost in her brilliant green eyes as she approached. It seemed suddenly warmer and could feel my heart beginning to beat hard in my chest. She took her place beside me and we held each others hands. I can remember knowing for sure that I was the luckiest man in the world. As the pastor began, Michelle turned and looked at me once again, then smiled warmly as she squeezed my hand. At that, I put all my troubles out of my mind.
For now. The End.
The following is a preview of RED SKY MORNING A Presidents Agent Novel by Greg Marion
Sunday, October 6, 1963 La Ascencin, Nuevo Leon, Mexico
Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future. ~President John F. Kennedy
In his mirror, Clayton Donovan saw only a cloud of dust. He looked ahead and saw a bleak, windswept landscape and beyond that the unknown. He knew, however, that even the most desolate places can often be filled with possibilities. With one hand on the wheel, he wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. He glanced back and forth between the radio dial and the dirt road ahead as he searched carefully for a signal. The fourth game of the World Series was well under way and he was having trouble picking up a broadcast this far from a major city. He turned for a moment to look out the passenger-side window and saw that the sun was now low in the sky, and would be setting within the hour. In the distance, Clayton noticed more of the now-familiar dust devils swirling here and there across the parched and barren terrain. He was glad that the sweltering heat of the day was finally behind him and was looking forward to the arid coolness of the desert evening. His vehicle, an inconspicuous 54 Chevy pickup, had a strong engine, an automatic transmission, and was fitted with a custom camper shell on the bed. Other than being noticeably cleaner than most of the other vehicles hed seen on this road, it fit in. He turned the radio dial slowly clockwise, passing over a few Spanish music stations until he found it. Clayton turned the volume all the way up and listened intently. This years World Series featured the New York Yankees playing against the Dodgers, who had famously moved out of Brooklyn a few years ago to become the Los Angeles Dodgers. Most New Yorkers, Clayton Donovan included, were still having trouble accepting that. The radio announcer at Dodger Stadium reported that the score was still 0-1 with the Yankees behind at the top of the seventh inning. The signal was fading in and out, but Clayton could hear the announcer describe that the Dodger pitcher, Sandy Koufax, was about to deliver a pitch to the Yankee batter, Mickey Mantle. After the pitch, Mantle swung and connected with the ball. Clayton heard the roar of the excited crowd as it almost drowned out the voice of the announcer: Its a hita deep hit out between center and left field! the announcer yelled. Its goinggoing At that moment, the radio signal faded out and was gone despite Claytons frantic attempts to tune the station back in. After a minute or two, he let out a deep breath and turned the radio off, refocusing his thoughts on the mission that lay ahead. In a few minutes, hed be
arriving at the small, secluded village of La Ascencinknown to the locals as La Chona. Seeing no other vehicles on the road, he pulled well off to the side and came to a stop. Clayton pulled up his left pant leg and took a moment to refasten the straps of his aluminum leg brace. His western boots had been custom made and fitted with a zipper on the left inside to accommodate the brace while helping him look the part. He stepped out onto the road and pressed his hand over another painful wound, located just under his right ribcage. After checking for rattlesnakes and scorpions, he walked to the back of the truck. He opened the camper shell and retrieved two official-looking adhesive decals. Each read Secretara de Agricultura, Department of Agriculture. He peeled the backing off each decal and placed one on each door. That done, he climbed behind the wheel once again and pulled back onto Mexican Federal Highway 61, driving until he finally arrived at the small village. Upon reaching the town plaza, he noticed a group of about ten teenage boys who were gathered around the park benches. He stopped the truck and placed his cowboy hat on his head, then rolled down his window and called out to them, Seor Ignacio Soto? They gazed at him curiously, having never seen a gringo in their village before. One of the boys, an older one, seemed to understand. He walked over to Clayton and asked, Seor Soto? In passable Spanish, he replied, Yes, the house of Ignacio Soto, please. The boy muttered a few words in Spanish, then walked out in front of the truck waving for Clayton to follow. After two blocks, he pointed Clayton to a tiny home at the end of a dirt street, indicating that this was the home of Seor Soto and family. Muchas gracias. Clayton pulled out a few Mexican centavos. He handed the coins to the boy and then drove forward, parking the truck where its decals were visible from the home. The sun cast his long shadow as he walked carefully to the front door. His fractured left leg had been healing well so far and he was hoping not to aggravate the injury. He knocked and waited. Soon, a woman of about fifty or so came to the door, opening it only a few inches. Almost at once, Clayton detected the savory aroma of wood-fired cooking and homemade
tortillas, which reminded him of his empty stomach. He tipped his hat and addressed her, Buenas noches Seora. Good evening, madam. The woman looked at him from head to toe with suspicious eyes. Buenas noches, she replied, leaving out the Seor. Clayton Donovan was far from fluent, but he could communicate Spanish well enough to suit his needs. He explained that he was an American working as an official for the Mexican government in Nuevo Leon. The woman seemed to doubt that but, nonetheless, continued answering his questions. He asked the woman if she knew the whereabouts of Ignacio. She was hesitant, but explained that her husband was a cattle rancher and would be home, as always, after sunset. In Spanish, he asked her, He found a machine? Si, she replied, nodding in agreement. She went on to explain that Ignacio had discovered a strange contraption buried in the hills behind his ranch. She also explained that her husband felt that it was something of great importance and had reported the find to the officials. She then asked Clayton if that was why he was here. Si Seora, he told her, and asked, Dnde est la mquina? Where is the machine? He turned and noticed that her neighbors, two young girls, were now peering curiously and smiling at him from their doorway. As he waved at them, they giggled and quickly ducked back inside. At that, Sotos wife frowned gravely. Nonetheless, she led him around the outside of the house to the rear of the small property. To the east, the mountains rose up from the desert floor and extended north and south for miles. Seora Soto described the location of her husbands cattle ranch. She also described where Ignacio had found the machine, pointing to a high, narrow ridge. That was all he needed. Clayton studied the topography of the ridge and its surrounding features. He then thanked Sotos wife for her help and explained, as best he could, that he and his assistants would be back in a few weeks to check on the find. He also warned that the machine could be dangerous, perhaps even a bomb, and advised that everyone stay far away from it until the officials have inspected it. As he began to leave, a neighbor, a thin man of about forty, approached him. The man seemed to object to Claytons presence and
began making threatening statements while pointing at Clayton and shouting. At first, Clayton wasnt too concerned, being about a foot taller and probably a hundred pounds heavier than the neighbor. He presumed that the man was opposed to an outsider, especially a gringo like himself, appearing at the womans home while the husband was away. He could also see that the mans anger was steadily escalating and was concerned that this could soon turn into a scene. The man stepped closer to Clayton and began to repeat himself when Sotos wife finally cut him off. Cllate, estpido! Shut up, stupid! At that, the neighbor became further annoyed and began to shout insults and accusations at both Clayton and the woman. After hed heard enough, Clayton grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him from the ground with one hand. He looked him in the eye and told him calmly, Cllate, Si? At this, the man began to tremble with fear, but managed to nod in agreement. Clayton set the man back on his feet, then pointed to a nearby chair and told him firmly, Sit! He sat. Clayton thanked the woman once again, tipped his hat, and left. While heading to his truck, he kept one eye on the house to be sure that Estpido didnt run home to grab his gun and do somethingstupid. After that, he headed back through town. As he approached the plaza again, he noticed that the group of boys were now standing in the road. Clayton knew that they were waiting for him and his pocket full of centavos. He slowed to a stop while the group ran to the truck and gathered around. Seor! Dinero por favor! Dinero! Mister! Money please! Money! Clayton laughed at that, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of coins. The group cheered as he passed them out, one by one. To the older boy who had helped him find Sotos home he handed a crisp five-peso note, instantly making him the wealthiest boy in town. At that, the group went wild while cheering and chasing after Clayton for blocks until he finally sped away. Once out of the village, he turned left onto the highway.
After a few hundred yards, he pulled over to the side of the road and parked. There, Clayton used his binoculars to study the mountains and trails around Sotos ranch. He then leaned back and relaxed, waiting until he was certain that Ignacio had headed home. The sun was growing low on the horizon and he watched the sky as it subtly changed colors from yellow to orange, and then to a deep crimson. Soon, the stars began to appear in the east while a cool and gentle breeze carried the smoke of dozens of wood fires from the village through the evening air. Clayton checked his watch and saw that it was now 6:40. He started the truck and drove up the road until he spotted a rocky mule trail heading toward the mountains. He turned there, then maneuvered the truck carefully over the bumpy path for some time. Before long, he saw the barbed-wire fence which he knew marked the perimeter of Ignacios small cattle ranch. He also knew, thanks to Sotos wife, that the mquina would be located high up on the ridge directly behind this fenced piece of land. The distinct smell of fresh manure came to him as he made his way around the east end of the small ranch and up the foothill of the mountain. The narrow road wove around small trees, desert flowers, and countless cactuses. He shifted into low gear and proceeded up the hill slowly and cautiously, aware that the narrow ridge dropped off sharply on each side. Skillfully, Clayton steered the truck around numerous rocks and ledges, and over small desert bushes that scratched noisily along the undercarriage. Soon, it became too dangerous to drive further. Clayton stopped and reached under the seat. From there, he retrieved his handgun and holster and carefully stepped out of the cab. After fastening the holster to his belt, he went to the back of the truck and retrieved a small battery-powered flashlight and a kerosene lantern. He lit the lantern and held it out while studying the ground for signs. Before long, Clayton discovered mule tracks along with some fresh droppings, and began following the tracks on foot. After a few minutes, he needed to catch his breath. Just as he stopped to rest, he heard the frightful sound of a rattle coming from behind him. Turning slowly, he held out the lantern and spotted a huge diamondback. The venomous creature had wound itself into a tight coil, facing him from only six feet away. Hissing wickedly, it shook its tail in warning.
Without hesitation, Clayton Donovan flipped open the strap of his holster and drew his .45 automatic. He aimed the barrel at the serpents head while it showed its fangs and glared at him with piercing eyes. He pulled the trigger and fired. In an instant, the serpents head exploded from its body. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the mountains, sending bats and birds flying wildly in all directions. Clayton slid the gun back into its holster and continued up the hill. After another hundred feet or so, he noticed human footprints on the trail and knew this was where Soto had dismounted. Clayton followed the footprints down from the crest of the ridge and along a precarious narrow ledge. After about fifty feet, he spotted something unusual ahead and held his lantern higher. There he saw it resting upon a large flat stone, buried partially into the steep hillside. A wheel. After inching along the remaining ledge, Clayton climbed up onto the stone and set the lantern down near the find. He saw that some fresh dirt had been dug out from around it. He now saw there were two bright alloy wheels, each about eleven inches in diameter. The alloy itself showed little evidence of corrosion or wear. Though the light from his lantern was poor, Clayton could see some of their intricate machinery and detail. The hubs appeared to be connected to a main body, which was mostly buried. Clayton paused briefly to take it all in. From the looks of it, the device had probably been resting at this spot for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. Under different circumstances, this would be considered an historical moment. Nonetheless, he felt sure that he would be one of few individuals who would ever lay eyes on it. Wasting no time, he headed back to the truck where he grabbed his digging equipment: a tarp, a small rock pick, and a collapsible shovel. He carried the items up to the dig site and, once there, began to unearth the machine. Using the pick, he gently poked away at the small rocks imbedded above it. Once that was finished, he used the pointed shovel to remove the dirt, first from around the body of the machine, and then from around its other wheels. After that, he grasped the machine with both arms and carefully lifted it from its burial site. From there, he placed it onto the opened tarp, then wrapped it tightly and carried it down to the truck. Using a length of rope, he secured the machine inside the bed.
Clayton made sure to gather all of his supplies and quickly loaded everything into the back of the truck. While closing the tailgate, he felt his abdominal wound begin to throb. He pressed his hand over the wound as he studied the terrain behind him. He could see that the truck would have to reverse down the hill for a few hundred feet before the path was wide enough to turn around. He climbed in and released the parking brake, then began to back slowly down the dark and precarious slope. To see behind, he turned and hung his upper body out of the cab through the opened door. Almost at once, severe pain shot from his wound. To Clayton, it felt as though hed been knifed again. The pain quickly became almost unbearable. Clayton winced as he pulled himself back into the cab. There, he grabbed onto the steering wheel with both hands. He saw his visual field narrowing rapidly as his consciousness began slipping away. He hit the brakes, causing the truck to careen sideways in the loose dirt. He turned the wheel sharply. The truck, however, continued to veer and skid across the rocky path. As it gained momentum, Clayton realized that the truck was heading toward the edge of the ridge. In desperation, he threw the shift lever into the drive position and stepped on the accelerator. The rear tires spun as a cloud of dirt and gravel flew out from behind the truck. Despite that, the vehicle continued out of control until it lunged headlong over the edge. The truck was airborne for a few seconds before landing with a loud crash. Propelled by gravity and momentum, it then began bouncing down the steep, rocky hillside. As the truck descended into the deep ravine, Clayton lost consciousness and collapsed at the wheel, then fell across the seat. After barreling over countless rocks, sharp ledges, and bushes, the vehicle finally reached the bottom of the dark ravine where it rolled to a stop. As the noise and dust settled, Claytons consciousness slowly returned. While pressing his hand over his aching wound, he reached and turned off the ignition switch. After waiting a full minute, he climbed out of the vehicle and staggered to the back of the truck to inspect the contents inside the bed. Satisfied that the machine was still secure, Clayton grabbed the flashlight and walked slowly around the vehicle while checking for gas leaks and damage. A cursory look under the hood revealed only heavy
dust and some cactus debris. Underneath, he saw the oil pan had been dented, though it appeared to be functionally intact. Clayton took a moment to look up at the steep ridge. In the pale light of the moon, he could make out the fresh path the vehicle had created on the way down. Part of him was glad that hed been unconscious through the ordeal. Using the flashlight, Clayton studied the site of his knife wound. There was no blood or discharge to be seen, though he realized that he could be bleeding internally. Clayton Donovan understood well the risks and dangers his job presented, especially lately. Nonetheless, he felt that tonights discovery would make it all worthwhileprovided he could get himself and the machine over the border. After several tries, the motor finally started, coughing a few times as a cloud of heavy smoke poured out of the tailpipe. Clayton revved the engine until it finally smoothed out, then began to drive out of the ravine. The waning three-quarter moon cast an eerie light across the dry desert floor as Clayton cautiously made his way over the rugged terrain until he finally reached the highway. There, he turned right and looked to see the village of La Chona fading in his mirror. One of the front wheels was wobbling and he could feel the vibration on the steering wheel. Clayton continued along, although at a reduced speed. The pain at his side had lessened somewhat and he took a deep breath before reaching down to loosen the straps of his leg brace. After that, he thought about a name for the machine and soon came up with Rueda, a Spanish word meaning wheel. Satisfied with the name, he sat back and prepared himself for the long trip ahead. In the city of Monterrey, he had a Chevrolet panel van parked and waiting. After the vehicle swap, he planned to transport Rueda over the border at Laredo, Texas, and then continue on to Dallas. There, it would be stored in a secured facility until it was decided how and where it would be studied, and by who. His employer, he knew, would be in Dallas for a campaign trip on November 22, and could see the machine then if he chose to. In the meantime, Clayton Donovan would focus on recuperating until his next mission as the Presidents Agent.
End of Red Sky Morning Preview
The Author
Greg Marion is a long time resident of Maui, Hawaii and a licensed RN. He is a graduate of University of Hawaii Maui College and a member of the International Thriller Writers and the International Screenwriters' Association. Besides writing fiction, his interests include reading, graphic art, stand-up paddling, snorkeling, hiking, and travel. Greg and his wife have three grown children.
For more, check out his website at gregmarion.com or his Facebook site at https://www.facebook.com/gregmarionbooks
A note from Greg Marion:
I sincerely hope youve enjoyed reading Paper Tiger as much as I did writing it. In case you didnt know, things are changing a bit for writers and readers reviews are becoming increasingly important, especially for newer authors. If you feel inclined, please submit an honest review for this book and others you read. Aloha, Greg
Acknowledgements
As always, Id like to put my lovely wife Rose first in line for a big thank you. Her patience, advice, and many words of kindness and encouragement were indispensable to me while I wrote Paper Tiger. Plus Id probably be in the doghouse if I didnt thank her in writing. I am also grateful to my rag-tag group of first-draft readers, including my friends Jack and Kekoa, my sister Linda, my son Sean, and my brother Brad, all of whom offered great suggestions and helped me greatly by pointing out spelling mistakes, grammatical blunders, and general screw-ups. Good job, guys. Last but not least, Id like to thank the readers of my first book, Red Sky Morning, whose kind reviews and many positive comments helped encourage me while writing this book. Mahalo to everyone.