Meredith Fletcher - Look-Alike

“I will.”

“And be careful, Joachim,” Günter said. “You are very important to me. I would not see you injured.”

A pang ripped through Joachim at the coming betrayal. Despite his murderous approach to his business and the long line of bodies that had led up to his current standing, Günter seemed to truly care about Joachim.

For months, Joachim had agonized over his decision to align himself against Günter. The crime czar had family and he was good to them, even though his daughters and sons didn’t appreciate the things he had done for them. Günter’s wife, ex-wives and mistresses only used him for what they could get. Günter hadn’t had good experiences related to family or friends. He didn’t trust many people.

But he trusted Joachim.

At fifteen, Joachim had been caught looting the home of a man who fenced stolen goods. That night, Günter had been with the man. The fence had wanted to shoot Joachim and call the Stasi. The East German police agency, with all the proper payments in place, would have condoned the decision because Joachim had been a thief and Leipzig had been filled with young thieves.

Only, Günter had liked the way Joachim had stood his ground and asked that his mother and sister be spared the details of his death. They didn’t know he was a thief. They’d believed he worked at odd jobs.

Günter had kept the fence from killing Joachim that night. The next night, he gave Joachim his first numbers-running assignment.

“I will be careful,” Joachim promised. He hung up the phone and reached for the third cell that he carried. His nerves jangled and the urge to run almost overcame him. He pressed numbers with his thumb and held the phone to his ear.

“Trouble?” a quiet, calm voice answered at the other end. Pitor Schultz was close to forty, a quiet man with dangerous eyes. Most people wouldn’t assume he was a threat until it was too late. For almost twenty years, he’d been an agent for the Bundesnachrichtendienst. The BND was Germany’s Foreign Intelligence Agency but they also operated inside the country when they had to.

“I’m going to send you a picture,” Joachim said. “If possible, I need the man in it identified.”

“All right. Send it.” Schultz hung up.

The BND agent’s ability to cut to the chase and ask only those questions that were pertinent was one of the things that made Joachim feel more secure about dealing with him. That and the fact that Schultz had been clever enough to catch him and compromise his freedom.

Joachim held the pen-flash on the man’s face and used the cell phone’s camera function to capture his image. A few buttons later, the image was on its way to Schultz.

Crossing to one of the houseboat’s windows, Joachim slid the heavy blinds out slightly and slowly, to peer outside. Passersby continued on their way without a glance in his direction. If a team was watching, Joachim couldn’t spot them.

He called Schultz’s number again.

“Yes?” the BND agent answered.

“You have the picture?”

“I do. I don’t know him. Is he connected to your present endeavor in any way?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Restlessness filled Joachim. He wanted desperately to be out of the houseboat. It was a floating trap.

“Be careful,” Schultz advised.

Joachim ended the call and slipped the phone back in his pocket.

The dead man rolled slightly as the boat shifted. Since rigor hadn’t set in, Joachim knew the man hadn’t been dead long.

He took out the phone that connected him with the woman and punched the Send button. Schultz had tried tracking the number at one point, but it was carefully managed at the other end. A series of ever-changing cutouts made it seem as though the end connection was in several places in the United States, South America, the Caribbean, Russia and Asia.

“Do you have the target?” the woman asked.

“No. There’s been a problem.”

“There are not supposed to be any problems.” Her voice took on icy suspicion.

“This problem was here before I arrived,” Joachim replied. Anger stirred within him. “I found a dead man on the boat.”

A brief pause stretched between them. “Who?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What about your target?”

“Not here. The target could have been taken when this…other problem came up.”

“One thing at a time. Is the computer still there?”

Joachim glanced at the computer. “Yes.”

“Is it operational?”

“Give me a moment.” Crossing the room, Joachim pulled the computer tower out, slid the cover off and checked for antipersonnel mines. Finding nothing, he left the cover off and switched the machine on. Despite his search, he still grew tense as the computer powered up.

“Well?” the woman asked.

“It’s operational.”

“Good. Now here’s what you’re to do…”

Following the woman’s direction, Joachim settled in at the computer, opened up the high-speed Internet connection available through the houseboat’s satellite dish array and allowed her access to the computer from a remote site. She—or whoever worked for her at the other end of the connection—took control of the cursor and the computer’s functions.

“While this runs,” the woman said, “I need you to stay there and monitor the computer.”

“I’m not comfortable with that,” Joachim replied. “I’m exposed here.”

“You don’t have a choice,” she said coldly.

“I do.” Joachim stood.

“Leave before I say you can and I’ll make sure your mother, sister and niece don’t live to see the dawn.”

The threat hammered Joachim squarely between the eyes. The woman knew about his family. He was certain Günter had not told her. Whatever else Günter was, he wouldn’t expose his family or anyone else’s to danger. It only proved that the woman’s knowledge of Joachim went deep.

“All right,” Joachim said. He seethed inside. He’d moved his sister and mother to Munich so his and Günter’s enemies wouldn’t hurt them. “I’ll stay here until you’re finished.” Then, if you ever cross my path again, I’ll kill you.

Dmitri’s Private Entertainment stood in the middle of one of the long alleys in the old side under an office building. The alley rode up a hill and the sex club was near the top. Recessed back under a tall building, a short flight of stairs led up to the establishment. The offices above were strictly low rent, but the sex club offered the promise of more exciting fare.

Dark red neon lights that blazed like coals spelled out Dmitri’s. Information about club hours was painted on the dark glass in English and Dutch. No cameras were allowed. It wasn’t a place she’d willingly have gone by herself. She didn’t feel comfortable with the prospect now.

But Elle showed no hesitation.

The club lobby was ornate, furnished with Old World splendor. Antique chairs and tables sat on either side of the room under soft nude photographs of women with tigers, in the show and lounging on high-performance cars. Freshcut flowers filled the vases on the tables. The whole package looked expensive and exotic. The two security guards in black suits added dangerous to the mix.

Elle fished money out of her pants pocket and paid the cover charge to the young woman at the desk inside the club’s lobby. “I’m looking for someone,” Elle said, catching the woman’s hand and curling the change up into her palm. The offer was evident.

The young woman considered the bills rolled up into her hand. “Perhaps,” she said, obviously desirous of the cash she was holding.

“A guest,” Elle said. “Not anyone who works here.”

Regretful reluctance filled the woman’s eyes. “Our clientele is most important, miss. I cannot abuse the trust that they—”