Марк Грини - One Minute Out

Verdoorn remained eerily calm. “We are doing our jobs. It’s our job to give you our fair assessment. I am in charge of overseas operations, and Mr. Hall is in charge of your personal security.”

Cage shouted at the speakerphone. “Who’s in charge of signing your fucking checks ?”

The door to the office opened, and Cage and Hall spun towards the movement. Heather Cage leaned in with a worried look. “Everything all right, hon?”

Verdoorn began to speak, but Cage muted the phone. “Sure, babe. Just work.”

She looked back and forth between the two men. “Sean, you look like you just ate a rotten peach.”

Hall put on a quick smile. “Ha. No, ma’am. We’re just working out details of the trip to Switzerland. Your husband wants to run around faster than we can keep up, but we’ll take good care of him.”

She gave a pout, then eyed her husband. “Sean knows what’s best, Ken.”

“Of course he does,” he replied, and she left the room.

The conversation between the three of them continued for a minute more, but Cage managed to keep his voice down. Neither the South African former soldier and intelligence officer nor the American former Naval Special Warfare chief petty officer pushed back again on their boss’s impending travel plans.

Together Hall and Verdoorn spit out a reluctant “Yes, sir,” and the matter was resolved.

After Cage took a few calming breaths, he sat back down at his desk. In a softer tone, he said, “All right. Jaco . . . what do you need?”

“You have declined my one request, so I will proceed as follows: My men are already in Venice, where they are performing an advance reconnaissance of the market. I am on board the vessel with the shipment from Dubrovnik. We will moor off Croatia tonight to accept delivery of items traveling the northern route, and then head to Italy tomorrow morning. My men and I will provide an outer cordon for the market’s security, and if the Gray Man should arrive, we will deal with him.”

“There’s nothing else you need?”

“I have all the resources I require at this time,” Verdoorn said in a clipped tone.

Cage turned his attention to his bodyguard. “Sean . . . anything I can do for you short of locking myself in my office and hiding under my desk?”

“No, sir.” He looked utterly defeated, and Cage liked this look on the normally easygoing and self-assured man.

“You gonna keep me safe?”

“Of course, sir,” he said with a nod. And then, “Absolutely. I’ll coordinate with Jaco offline and we’ll take care of things.”

• • •

Fifteen minutes later Hall was back in his pool house apartment, an icy 1.5-liter bottle of Grey Goose from the freezer in his hand and his EarPods in his ears. He was on another encrypted call, for the third time today, with Jaco Verdoorn, while he drank his fourth shot of vodka of the day.

Hall said, “Cage is a prick. But he fuckin’ pays like no one else.”

Verdoorn said, “We’ll earn our money on this one. We have to plan on the Gray Man being there, in Venice.”

“How can he possibly know—”

“He seems to be getting his intel on the fly. He learned something at the Mostar way station that led him to Vukovic. He learned something from Vukovic that led him to Dubrovnik. I think it’s possible that he learned something in Dubrovnik that will lead him to Venice.”

“Aren’t you stopping to pick up more girls before Venice?”

“Yes, but we’ve moved the location. He won’t find us there.”

“All right,” Hall said. “I can put guns and guys on my protectee, but I can’t go out there and whack your assassin for you.”

Verdoorn replied, “I suggest you bring Cage into Venice normally, the way you always do. Assuming we don’t get Gentry before tomorrow night, we will attempt to acquire our target as he closes on his target.”

Hall stared at his phone, then swigged more icy vodka straight from the bottle. “So you are saying my principal will be in the center of a manhunt. Like . . . like bait .”

“It’s a big world, mate. We can only find Gentry if we draw him to us. I have no bloody clue if the Gray Man knows about Cage, or the market, or even if he knows about Italy. I just know it’s better to respect your enemy’s capabilities. Something I learned along the way, and something they didn’t teach our employer in business school, apparently.”

“Christ, Jaco. That’s a hell of a risk for the Director.”

“That’s right, it is. But I told Cage to stay home. He refused, so I’m gonna make the best of it and use him to bag my prey. And that means you and your men better be on bloody point, because this bastard’s got the skill to take out your principal if you let your guard down for an instant.”

“We’ll be ready,” Hall said.

Verdoorn hesitated a moment, then said, “I can hear it in your voice. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” Hall swigged another sip. “But I’m drinking. The boss is covered, why not?”

The South African snapped back, “Keep your fuckin’ head, Hall! I see any evidence you aren’t one hundred percent in Italy, and I’ll tell the Director about your little problem with the bottle.”

If Verdoorn expected Hall to melt in fear of this threat, Hall surprised him by saying, “I can hear it in your voice, Jaco.”

“Hear what?”

“I can tell that you are excited by the prospect of going after this Gentry. Just make sure you don’t put my principal in unnecessary danger to draw him out.”

“Your principal, my employer, put himself in unnecessary danger. You and I will untangle him from it. It’s what we do as professionals, Hall. You’re the shield, I’m the sword. We’ll both do our jobs.”

“Yeah, right,” replied the American. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

TWENTY-SIX

Roxana slept fitfully for a few hours, but after waking and eating the best meal she’d had in years, she was told she needed to dress for a meeting with Dr. Claudia.

She didn’t have a clock, but through the portal she could see that the sun was high in the sky, so she assumed it was early afternoon when the American entered, the woman’s light but not altogether trustworthy smile on full display.

For an hour Claudia asked questions of the young Romanian woman, about her life, her education, her hopes, and her dreams. Roxana kept her answers short, clipped, and often noncommittal; sometimes she outright lied. In between, she asked questions of her own about the pipeline, none of which were answered by the psychologist.

Then the older woman began talking about money and glamour, told her how excited she was that Roxana—she called her Maja, of course—would soon be taken in by a powerful and successful man who would shower her with attention and adoration.

Roxana just stared back at her. “Are you trying to brainwash me?”

Claudia’s smile faded a little. “I don’t look at it like that. I’m here to appeal to you, to get you to understand how lucky you are.”

“I am being forced into sexual bondage. The other women on board are going to be sold into sexual bondage. You understand that , right?”

With a frustrated sigh, the American responded with, “You need to see this as your liberation.”

“My liberation ?”

“Of course. You will come to America, live like a princess, and experience things you never would have had the chance to experience without this opportunity.”

“Like rape? I’m sure I could get that at home.”

Claudia frowned. It was clear to Roxana that this line of reasoning from the doctor had worked before, and the older woman was frustrated by Roxana’s reluctance.