JET - Ops Files (21 page)

Which was a longer shot than ever now.

“Any word when Nahir shows up?” Maya asked, taking another sip of coffee and peering over her Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses at a crew erecting a stage at the far side of the grounds.

“Carla said by two or three. She wants everyone out by the pool when he arrives so he can check out the talent.”

“Oh, then we have a little time.”

“Enough to take the edge off,” Courtney agreed, draining the rest of her drink before standing. “See you in the water.”

“Yeah, sure. And don’t worry about that girl. I’m sure everything will be fine,” Maya said, trying to be glib.

“Natasha. Her name’s Natasha.” Courtney eyed the others splashing in the pool like children on the first day of summer. “I hope you’re right.”

Chapter 32

The single-engine Cessna 208A Caravan seaplane’s pontoons skimmed the surface of the tranquil water on the leeward side of the island before the aircraft settled down like an ungainly waterfowl and taxied toward the shore. Palm trees blew in the trade wind, their fronds like frayed green kites beckoning a welcome as the plane approached the beach, the powerful motor’s drone the only sound in the small bay. It stopped twenty feet from the sand and waited as a wooden skiff piloted by a grinning captain motored out to greet it, his twin sitting at the bow, their ebony hair slick in the sun.

The fuselage door popped open, and the pilot stepped out onto the pontoon. The boatman threw him a line, which he secured before motioning to his passengers. Putra emerged and groped for a strut, trying to keep his balance. The boatman held the skiff tight against the pontoon, and Putra stepped into it, almost falling backward in the process. Wira, wearing tan linen slacks and a short-sleeved black shirt, clambered out and moved confidently to the boat, refusing the boatman’s assistance as he took a seat in the middle of the craft.

The pilot gave a small salute and waited as the vessel drifted away, then climbed back into the cockpit and guided the plane’s nose toward the open sea as the skiff moved parallel to the coast before disappearing around a verdant point.

Two gulls hovered overhead, eyeing the little boat’s passengers with passing curiosity. The bow sliced through the water with a hiss as the captain goosed the throttle, urging the outboard to greater speed. Five minutes later Nahir’s compound of buildings rose up from the shore through a break in the trees, their white bulk almost blinding in the afternoon glare. The boatman pointed at the villa and grinned, revealing yellow incisors with a gap where his front teeth had once been. Wira and Putra exchanged a neutral glance, and Putra blotted his brow with a handkerchief, the humidity cloying even with the sea breeze.

The boat slid onto the beach and came to a stop. The newcomers hopped out and found themselves facing a heavyset guard. Near the tree line several more watched the water, rifles cradled in their arms. Another gunman sat by the pier entrance, gazing at the distant islands.

“Welcome. Please. This way,” the guard said.

They trudged up the strand to a stone path that led to the villa. Two rifle-equipped sentries stood on either side of a wooden gate that punctuated the high stone wall, and one of them eased it open as the trio neared.

The grounds were lavish by any measure. Wira and Putra took in the groomed lawn, marble statuary, and lavish marble walkway that led to a massive swimming pool, where a bevy of young women lounged near the water’s edge.

A voice called out from the steps of the opulent villa. “Greetings. Our host has only just arrived and will be along in a few minutes,” a servant with an almond complexion announced from the shade of the veranda. “Gentlemen, please, have a seat. What kind of refreshments may I offer you?”

Wira and Putra exchanged a glance. “Water, please. For both of us.”

The steward disappeared into the house as another seaplane touched down in the water and taxied noisily toward the beach. The guests had begun arriving – Wira and Putra had seen several large yachts in the straight headed for the island, no doubt en route to the party, and Wira had spotted the fishing boat they’d disembarked from in Singapore making its way through the straight as well. They would load the agent onto the ship and take their leave of the dealer’s compound with all possible speed. The plan was to be a hundred miles from the island by daybreak, where they’d rendezvous with a faster boat so Wira could get back to Jakarta and finalize the embassy attack plan once they had the agent in their possession.

Footsteps approached from the villa. The servant arrived with their drinks, followed by their host, stylishly attired in a Versace shirt and ivory slacks, looking relaxed and rested. They got to their feet, and Nahir waved a limp hand as he pulled up a chair.

“Gentlemen, I’m delighted you could make it. Please, sit. You are my honored guests and are among friends here.” When the servant had moved out of earshot, Nahir leaned forward. “I received the wire transfer. Thank you. Frankly, I had my doubts you could perform. I see now that I was in error.”

“Yes, we are not without means. But now we need to see what we are paying for. No disrespect intended.”

“Of course not. You have every right to do so. Here. Perhaps this will set your minds at ease.” Nahir handed Wira a cell phone. A video image played on the small screen.

Wira and Putra watched as the camera zoomed in. Two dogs were wagging their tails at someone out of range. The camera panned out and focused on a blue metal canister in the corner. A cable was attached to the aerosol nozzle affixed to the top. The image zoomed in as the nozzle, triggered by the cable, released a mist into the chamber.

The focus shifted to the animals, who looked puzzled by the sound of the compressed gas, but still happy. The video speed increased until the counter indicated five minutes had elapsed. The little dogs convulsed on the floor of the chamber, blood seeping from their eyes and ears as froth foamed from their noses and mouths. Wira and Putra watched in rapt fascination as the dogs expired in horrific agony. When the screen went dark, Wira handed the phone back to Nahir.

“Impressive. But frankly, that could have been anything, no? Any toxin released into an airtight chamber. Or even the air being shut off, leaving the animals without oxygen.”

Nahir shrugged. “Really? What toxins do you know of that would cause that specific set of reactions in five minutes of exposure? I’d love to hear, because then I won’t have to pay a king’s ransom to acquire agents like this one.” Nahir fixed Wira with an icy stare. “Suffocation wouldn’t do it, which you should know. Get your facts straight.”

Putra looked nervously at Wira, who hadn’t displayed any reaction to Nahir’s insult. Instead, Wira took a sip of his water and set the glass down before leaning back and folding his hands in his lap.

Nahir checked his watch and cleared his throat.

“If you have an expert, I’ll gladly allow him to speak with my science director, who can give him the exact composition of the agent. Beyond that, I’m not sure what to tell you. If you don’t want it, no problem, I have other,
qualified
buyers who will take it without any hesitation.” Nahir pronounced “qualified” like a taunt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have guests who have traveled far to enjoy my hospitality. Think it through, discuss it amongst yourselves, and I’ll be back shortly.”

Nahir stood and began making his way down the steps to the pool deck. Wira rose and followed him.

“We do not wish to offend you,” Wira said. “If I have your word that the gas is as advertised, that is good enough for me. Please. I will make one phone call and arrange for the rest of the funds to transfer. It can be done within the hour. But I want to take delivery now.”

Nahir gave him a frosty smile. “Come. Walk with me, and I’ll explain how the rest of the transaction will work.” He stopped, waiting for Putra to join them, and then led the pair along the pool area to the beach. Both newcomers’ eyes traveled to the women, and Nahir nodded. “Would you like to avail yourselves of my playthings? Just say the word. They are yours for the asking.”

Wira swallowed hard. “Thank you, but no. This is strictly business for us.”

“Well, if you reconsider, speak up. I assure you they are the stuff fantasies are made of. And each as willing as you could want.”

Wira shook his head.

Nahir smiled again. “Fine. Here’s how we’ll do this. You will transfer the remaining funds. Once I have confirmed receipt, I will arrange for the material to be loaded onto the vessel of your choice, although I have to warn you that if onto a seaplane, you will run into considerable difficulty when returning to Singapore. Customs there isn’t particularly understanding.”

“We have a boat. The green one out beyond the breakwater,” Putra said.

Nahir squinted at the fishing scow and nodded. “I see. Fine. Then make your call, and enjoy my hospitality until it gets dark. Once it does, I will see to it that the canister is transported to your boat.”

“Why can’t we take it now?” Wira asked.

“Because you haven’t paid me, and because it might look suspicious if you were leaving my soiree with a wooden crate – especially in these times of satellite surveillance. While the canister isn’t particularly large, it’s packed in protective foam and boxed, which is how I strongly recommend it be transported unless you want to risk the dogs’ fate if there’s a mishap. But let’s not make tracking you too easy, just in case anyone’s watching, shall we? We’ll do this tonight and not before. Only a matter of a few more hours.”

Putra and Wira murmured to each other, and Wira straightened. “Putra will accompany your men to wherever the agent is stored. He will oversee the loading onto one of the skiffs. Is that acceptable?”

“Of course. But only once payment has been received.”

Wira noticed one of the women, a gorgeous Eurasian with sun-kissed skin, glancing at them before looking away. “They are indeed miraculously beautiful young things, are they not? But alas, that is not our way.”

Nahir laughed. “You are true believers, and I respect that. However, I want you to know that you are not bound by any constraints here in my home, and I’ll remind you that even the righteous need…diversion…from time to time.”

“I appreciate that. I will make the call,” Wira said. “I trust you have a working phone? I lost cell service ten minutes before landing.”

“Of course. A satellite link. Right this way.”

Maya’s heart felt ready to burst from her chest. She recognized the two men with Nahir as the terrorists in Lev’s photographs, their faces seared into her memory. If they were here…she fought to appear uninterested and dropped her sunglasses back over her eyes, returning her attention to her companions, who were prattling on about trendy nightspots in Paris and London. She laughed with them when Angela wisecracked about the coming party, but her stomach was doing flops even though outwardly she appeared collected.

If Natasha’s disappearance had been a disaster, this was a full-blown crisis. Because if the terrorists had come to the island on the arms merchant’s birthday, it could only be for one reason, and any spare time she hoped she might have had just run out.

Chapter 33

The party crowd gathered around the expansive pool deck to watch the sun set. The glowing red ember slowly sank into the cobalt sea, flaming the sky with a rainbow of color, the morning’s showers a distant memory. A jazz quartet thumped away onstage as a small army of servers milled through the privileged with silver trays piled with drinks and appetizers. The dizzying aroma of expensive cologne and perfume drifted from the guests, largely older men with trophy wives or girlfriends half their ages.

Maya moved among the celebrants with her glass of Perrier water on the rocks with a lime twist, smiling perfunctorily, eyes searching for Nahir and the terrorists, whom she’d lost sight of when she’d been told by Carla to get prepared for the party. The band reached the end of its set, and the singer made the dinner announcement in three languages. Everyone moved to the tables that had been positioned for dining beneath the stars. Maya spotted Nahir coming out of the villa with the two men and breathed a sigh of relief when they sat together at the main table – if they were there to collect their purchase, they probably hadn’t done so yet.

The meal was an epicurean extravaganza, the Michelin chef outdoing himself with his nine courses, each richer than the last. Maya nibbled at the fare as first-growth Bordeaux flowed like water, ten cases of Chateau Petrus from a stellar year purchased at auction in New York and shipped to Nahir’s temperature-controlled, eight-thousand-bottle wine cellar for the party. After salad, lobster bisque, and curried shrimp, a small piece of seared pork belly was followed by ostrich in a truffle reduction, which in turn was trumped by poached Chilean sea bass, bluefin tuna, fugu prepared by a master Japanese chef skilled in the art of preparation of the poisonous pufferfish, and the final entrée course of Kobe beef filet.

Throughout dinner Maya kept a veiled eye on Nahir and the terrorists, who looked disgusted by the ostentatious display and as restless as she felt. When dessert had been served, paired with a brimming glass of Château d’Yquem Sauterne, she had already imagined fifty ways to kill them right there with her bare hands, and she had to remind herself that her mission was to destroy the agent, not slaughter the arms dealer and his clients. Although if she could, she intended to do both.

A contingent of guards ringed the grounds, their customary assault rifles exchanged for more discreet pistols so as not to alarm the guests, and she counted at least fifteen of the serious-looking men. She had little doubt that an equal number might be prowling the beach and perimeter wall, and for a moment she was overcome with despair. How was she supposed to prevail in the face of those odds? One woman, unarmed, against a platoon?

The answer
, her inner voice assured her,
is to be better than they are. Smarter
.