Mark Young - Off the grid

As if reading his thoughts, she smiled. “I am sorry to alarm you like this, but it is very important that we…how do you say, speak alone.” Russian accent, but not native. Her chocolate-brown eyes glanced away as she seemed to be searching the crowd. She motioned toward a table farthest down the corridor. “Shall we sit?”

Now it registered. Jewish and Russian? Odd combination. He gathered his coffee and followed her to the table. “How do you know my name? Have we met?” He sipped the coffee and studied her, knowing he’d never crossed her path.

She settled into the chair next to him, making sure she faced the crowd as they conversed. Just like a cop. “We know about your meeting with Richard Kane in Vienna. And we know you’ve been followed ever since-a team of three, two men and one woman.”

Gerrit glanced around. No one seemed particularly interested in them, although several men glanced their way in passing. “So, where are they?”

She briefly smiled. Her furrowed brow seemed to relax for a moment, and her eyes carried a gentleness he never once saw in Marilynn’s. And yet, there seemed to be an edginess about her, an attitude shared by those who must always be on their guard. “The men are in the bathroom trying to rid themselves of the last of their lunch. They can barely walk.”

“And the woman?”

“She got off the plane and tried to connect with your flight to Seattle.”

Gerrit raised a brow. “Tried?”

“A canine unit hit her.”

“Hit her?”

“They found a small package of C4 in her coat. The dog almost ripped her clothes apart trying to reach the explosive. She’s currently being interrogated by security.” Again, the smile.

He briefly eyed the cameras.

“For the next forty-five minutes, those cameras are looped back to show the crowd that passed here about an hour ago. We will be long gone by the time the surveillance cameras return to normal viewing.”

“You did all this, Miss…?” Once more, she placed her hand on his, not in a flirtatious move, but more like how a friend might touch another. “Gerrit, we have been watching over you for more than seven years. Waiting for this time.”

He tensed. Watching over or spying on me? “Waiting for what?”

“For someone like Kane to approach.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “We know you turned him down in Vienna. That was a very dangerous thing to do. He is a khutspe, a very arrogant man. He does not like to lose. Be on your guard. If you need to contact us”-she withdrew a cell phone from her purse-”use this. Once you use it, destroy it. We’ll provide another.”

“Who are you and what’s your connection to Kane?”

She shook her head. “We do not have the time. Just be careful. If we feel you are in imminent danger, we will move in. Keep that phone near you at all times.”

Standing, she looked down. “Have a good flight.”

He rose. “What’s your name?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “My name’s Alena.” She touched his cheek with her hand before turning away, disappearing into the crowd.

He started to reach for his own cell phone, then changed his mind. Alena’s information made him suspicious of everything. It took him a few minutes to find a pay phone. He slipped in the coins and dialed.

“Hey, partner. Gerrit here.”

“Hey, bro. Where in the Sam Hill are you?” Mark Taylor’s voice sounded incredulous. “First, you disappear on me and when I ask the boss, he tells me it’s none of my damn business. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been out of the country-”

“I’ll say. Your last message came to me from a hotel in Vienna two days ago. I checked. Thanks for leaving me with all that paper in San Diego, by the way. Now you're calling me from a 415 area code. San Francisco? Bay area? What kind of gig you running?”

“Look, I don’t have much time. I’ll fill you in face to face. Did you get my overnight package?”

“Yeah. Stashed it in that place where we kept our informant for a few days.” Taylor had picked up on Gerrit’s implied vagueness. “I hid it under the floorboards.”

“Great. You look inside?”

“Nope. None of my business. Figured you’d tell me if I needed to know.”

Gerrit breathed easier. “Believe me, partner, the less you know, the better. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up and studied those standing nearby. No one seemed to give him a second glance. He made his way toward the boarding gate.

Alena’s information put him on edge. He always thought he could pick up a tail. If she was right, there had been three people traipsing after him and he never spotted them. Either he was too preoccupied or they were really good.

As he stood in line to board, he scrutinized every passenger on his flight. No one seemed too suspicious. He took one last look before entering the plane.

Everything seemed to be normal, but he no longer trusted himself to sniff out danger. After all, he’d just learned that others watched him for seven years without his knowledge. What else might he be missing? All he saw looking back were the faces of strangers.

Seattle, Washington

His tired mind swirling with thoughts of Kane and the dead man, Gerrit almost missed a clue that something was amiss at home. Lights streamed through the windows of his boathouse as he drove up, lights he knew had been turned off when he left the house a week ago.

Exhausted and wary, he gathered his bag and let Bones out. After locking the car, he made his way onto the floating dock. The place had been closed up tight and dark when he left on this trip. He was glad he rearmed himself after leaving the airport. He started to reach for a weapon when he saw Marilynn’s black Mercedes coupe parked a few stalls down from his car.

Bones gave a low growl as they approached the house. Moments earlier, Gerrit had picked up his dog from a neighbor down the road, a woman he sometimes went jogging with and who always seemed glad to dog-sit when he was away.

Bones, on the other hand, was not pleased. Gerrit swore the dog gave him an attitude when they reunited, but now-all seemed forgiven. At times, his four-legged friend seemed more trouble than a girlfriend.

He shouldered his bag and tried the door. Unlocked. He entered without announcing and smelled the aroma of pasta sauce emanating from the kitchen. Marilynn? She must have heard him close the door, because a moment later she emerged from the kitchen, watching him drop his bag.

“Welcome home, stranger.” She moved closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I want to hear all about it. But first-dinner. I imagine you’re starving?”

“How did you know I’d be home?”

Her eyes shifted away for a second. “Dad called. Said he’d talked to Kane and mentioned that you were on your way. So…here you are. Come on, let’s sit down to eat. And you can tell me every intimate detail.”

She eyed him momentarily, ignoring Bones. “Oh, there is a package that came for you. I left it on the bed.”

He placed his sidearm on the coffee table as she clasped his hand and led him into the kitchen. “Open up the wine, and I’ll get the bread from the oven. Everything else is ready.”

He uncorked the bottle and poured for each of them. As they sat down, he watched her settle in. “You never struck me as a domestic diva, Marilynn. I’m impressed.”

She smiled and waved her hand. “Just another Martha Stewart without all the billions of dollars. Don’t get used to this. Now, tell me all.”

He took a bite and sipped from his glass before responding. “Not much to tell. Met Kane in London, as you know. Came back here, then left for Vienna. Now I’m home.”

“I know your travel plans,” she said, her words laced with annoyance. “I want to know what you did…not where you went.”