James Grippando - Afraid of the Dark

“Hungry?” asked Reza as he handed Jack a plate. It was fruit, a multigrain bread, and yogurt. Jack thanked him as they headed down the hall, but before they reached the locked door to the storage room, Reza pulled him into a tiny office and closed the door. “Shada is already inside,” said Reza, “so let me be quick. Chuck is going to extend an olive branch and tell her which bill has the GPS in it.”

That didn’t jibe with last night’s text message from Chuck, but Jack kept quiet, not sure if Reza knew about the exchange.

“Of course, there will be a second bill that we don’t tell her about.” He handed Jack a cell phone. “As for the backup, use this when you follow Shada.”

“My cell works fine here.”

“This one is linked to Shada’s cell. Chuck and I installed spyware last night while she was asleep. It allows you to hear what she says so long as she has her cell with her, even if she’s not talking on the phone.”

“How close do I have to be?”

“Technically, it’s supposed to work up to six or seven kilometers. But wireless can be dicey in urban areas, especially if she goes indoors. To be safe, Chuck wants you to stay within two hundred meters.”

“What if she sees me?”

“That’s more than likely, but it doesn’t matter. Chuck played it perfectly last night, and telling her where the GPS chip is this morning will reinforce the trust. The important thing is that she thinks it’s your idea to follow her, not Chuck’s. People get nervous when Chuck has one of his men on their tail. No offense, but you’re an amateur. She might get her knickers in a knot if she sees you, but she won’t abort the mission.”

Jack tried not to feel insulted.

“I’ve also programmed a panic button,” said Reza. “Just hit the star key if you want to call the police. For all other calls, use your own cell.”

Jack tucked the spy phone into his pocket. Reza unlocked the desk drawer and removed a pistol. “Chuck also thinks you should be armed. I have a Glock nine millimeter. Do you know how to use it?”

“No gun.”

“Chuck thought you might know how to use it, being engaged to an FBI agent.”

“Andie has actually turned me into a pretty good shot. But this is the U.K., not Texas. Not the place to risk arrest for carrying a concealed weapon.”

“Suit yourself.” He put the pistol away and locked the drawer. “Any questions about the cell phone?”

“Just one,” said Jack. “How long has Chuck had that same spyware on my cell?”

“Good one, Yank,” he said, smiling and shaking his head as he led Jack out of his office. “That’s a real good one.”

The Dark slept not at all, which was a normal night for him. He would sleep on the plane to Hong Kong after the money was in hand and Paulo was dead.

Last-minute changes to the plan had necessitated another trip to the storage shed. That little unit would have been the envy of al-Shabaab, had he still been loyal to them. Somewhere down the road, when the bodies were recovered and the Dark was on the other side of the globe, Scotland Yard would uncover the cache, and the Western media would report that another Muslim was preparing for jihad. As if every jihad involved war and violence. As if this struggle had anything to do with Allah.

The Dark stopped at the corner. Sunrise was still hours away, and it was cold enough to see his breath. Morning rush hour was just barely beginning, a few cars streaming by. A man and a woman huddled beneath the shelter at the bus stop. The nearest tube station didn’t open until five thirty A.M., but an hour from now waves of commuters would flood into the underground like water into a storm sewer. The Dark was eight blocks from the abandoned hotel, just in case anyone was triangulating his wireless call and trying to pinpoint his location. Chuck Mays’ cell was on his speed dial. He punched “8” and waited.

“I’m here,” said Chuck.

“Is Shada in or out?”

“She’s in.”

The Dark smiled thinly. “I knew she would be. Now listen closely, because I’m not going to repeat this. Shada must come alone. Tell her to take the money to Billingsgate Fish Market.”

“The fish market?”

“Just listen. I know Shada a hell of a lot better than you ever did, and I’m being very reasonable about setting up the exchange in a public place. The fish market is probably the busiest place in London this early. Hundreds of people around, so there’s no reason for her to get scared of her own shadow and freak out. The ground floor has two cafes. Shada is to find the one nearer to the shellfish boiler room, take a seat, and wait.”

“When do we get Vince back?”

“When I get the money. Understood?”

“Yes, but-”

“No ‘buts.’ ”

“But you-”

“Quiet! Do you want your friend dead or alive?”

“You said I could talk to Vince in the morning.”

The Dark gripped the phone, angered by the audacity. “There’s plenty of morning left,” he said, seething as he ended the call.

For some of us.

He tucked the phone away and started back to the hotel.

Jack’s cell rang as he stepped out of the Curry House’s storage room.

The Web conference following the Dark’s ransom demand had gone exactly as Chuck and Reza had choreographed it. Shada was ready to make the delivery. Jack would tail her-after he took this phone call.

He ducked into Reza’s office and answered it.

“It’s me,” said Andie. “First thing I want to say is that I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For pressuring you to drop the Jamal Wakefield case.”

There was a knock, and then Jack heard Reza’s voice on the other side of the closed door. “We have to go, my friend.”

“Andie, don’t worry about it,” said Jack. “We can talk when I get home.”

“No, you don’t understand. When I found out that you were trying to prove the existence of a black site, I had no idea that I was investigating the same black site that was at the end of your trail.”

Jack’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“It’s complicated, and I’m so angry with the bureau right now that I can hardly stand it. But you were representing Jamal ever since he was Khaled al-Jawar, Prisoner No. 977 at Gitmo. Obviously, the FBI knew he was really Jamal Wakefield, which means they knew his lawyers would eventually get into the issue of black sites in Prague. It was no coincidence that I was given this assignment. Someone high up thought they could play the national security card and pressure me into compromising your case. Or at least throw you off the trail of the black site in Prague, if need be.”

Jack lowered himself into the desk chair. He was having trouble getting his head around this one. “Wow. Andie, it’s five thirty in the morning here, I’ve hardly slept, and… just, wow.”

There was another knock at the door. “Jack,” said Reza, “we really have to go.”

“Andie, this is all good to know,” said Jack. “But I-”

“Good to know?” said Andie, incredulous. “Jack, I could be fired for telling you this. But here’s the point. I don’t know what exactly you’re doing over there in London, but you need to know that the people who ran this black site are beyond evil. Don’t kid yourself into thinking otherwise. Please, please, don’t take unnecessary chances.”

The door opened, and Reza stuck his head into the room. “Hang up the phone. We’re leaving.”

Andie asked, “Who was that?”

Jack hesitated too long, but Andie’s tone changed abruptly. “I gotta go,” she said. “Be careful, Jack. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said, and the call ended.