Requiem for an Assassin (24 page)

“I’m in Singapore,” I said, feeling I was losing control of the situation. First Kanezaki, then Delilah, now Boaz…Christ, why not just throw a party?

“I’ll be there in three hours. Tell me where.”

“Can I reach you on this number?” I asked.

“Of course, it’s a mobile, GSM.”

“I’ll call you. Be somewhere in the Orchard Road shopping center.”

After the usual assuming-the-worst precautions at and en route from the airport, adjusted to account for the extensive public camera coverage courtesy of the Singapore government, I made my way to the Grand Hyatt near Orchard Road, Singapore’s upscale shopping district. It was about eighty degrees and humid, and I relished the tropical heat after the arctic conditions in New York. The area in front of the Towers was bustling with well-dressed Chinese, Malays, Indians, and foreigners, and I caught snatches of conversation in a half-dozen tongues. Cars and taxis were lined up patiently at traffic lights in the rush-hour congestion, and I almost smiled at the distinct absence of honking horns. It seemed these people had found a way to get along.

I took the elevator to the tenth floor, then the stairs down to seven. I moved along the empty hallway watchfully until I came to Kanezaki’s door. I knocked, then took several steps back. Despite what my rational mind was telling me, I hated showing up where I was expected. Especially after what had happened outside Accinelli’s apartment.

Kanezaki opened the door and looked out at me, a slightly quizzical expression on his face. “You going to come in?” he said.

I nodded and made my way into the room. The shades were down, and I noticed immediately the sliding doors to the bathroom were open. Likewise the closet. He was being courteous, as well as sensible. When you’re dealing with someone looking for a threat, you’re asking for trouble if you don’t let him see your hands.

Kanezaki locked the door and turned on the
DO NOT DISTURB
sign. Then he put a nylon duffel bag on one of the twin beds and gestured for me to help myself. Inviting me to reach into the bag, instead of doing it himself, again showed experience and good sense.

I dropped my carry-on and took a look. Inside was a 45 SOCOM HK Mark 23 with Trijicon night sights, a laser aiming module, Knight’s Armament suppressor, two spare mags, one hundred rounds of Federal Hydra-Shok, and a Wilcox tactical thigh holster. Also night-vision equipment. Same gear he’d gotten Dox and me for our raid at Wajima a year earlier.

“I told you, something concealable,” I said, hefting the HK, racking the slide to check that the chamber was empty. With the attached suppressor, the damned thing would be a foot and a half long.

“I do the best I can,” he said. “I thought you liked the SOCOM.”

“I like it fine. I just don’t want to walk down the street with it in broad daylight.”

“This is going to go down during the day? We don’t need the night-vision equipment, then.”

“No. Although better to have it and not need it.”

“Well, the SOCOM is what I can borrow from the armory without anyone asking questions. Look, there’s a pair of fishing coveralls, too. The thigh rig will fit inside with room to spare. Slice a hole at the hip and you’ll have easy access.”

I pulled out the coveralls he was talking about and draped them open. Yeah, I supposed they would serve. He even had disassembled rods and a tackle box inside, obviously for cover at the yacht club. I saw a baseball cap and shades, too, along with gloves, binoculars, and the requested medical kit.

“You’ve thought of everything,” I said, not displeased.

He shrugged. “Two heads are better than one. Look in the tackle box.”

I did. In addition to a full complement of fishing gear, there was a Benchmade Mini-Reflex with a three-inch blade. I pressed the catch and the blade sprung into place.

“Nice,” I said.

“Don’t get caught with it. It’s illegal except for active duty military and law enforcement. You could get in trouble.”

I laughed and pocketed the knife. “What about the body armor?”

“In the closet.”

I glanced over. Two blue vests hung from a pair of hangers. I walked over and hefted one. “Christ, it’s light,” I said. “You sure this is any good?”

“Dragon Skin. It’ll stop a 7.62 round at twenty-four hundred feet per second.”

I nodded, liking the sound of that. “You’ve got two in here,” I said.

“I’m going with you.”

I looked at him, and saw he was serious.

“No,” I said. “It’s not necessary. It’s not even a good idea.”

“I’ve thought it through. I don’t see how you can do it alone. Figure at least two fixed defenders, maybe more, and…”

“Do I seem to be getting old?” I asked.

“What? No. I mean, the same as usual.”

“At the rate I’m going, I half expect someone to try to take my arm when I go to cross the street.”

“Why, who else is trying to help you?”

“Never mind.”

“Anyway, it wouldn’t matter if you were twenty. That’s not the point.”

I thought of Boaz. “I’ve got something that’ll change the odds.”

“What?”

“Let’s just say you’re not my only low friend in high places.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Look,” I said, “it’s not that I’m not grateful. But you and I have never operated together before, not when it comes to kicking down doors, anyway. We’re as likely to get in each other’s way as we are to do each other any good. Trust me on this, okay?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re an ops guy, Tom, and you’ve turned into a damned good one. But you’re not a shooter. Play to your strengths. You’ll live longer.”

We were quiet for a moment. He said, “You’re still going to need someone to drive. I’ve got a van.”

I thought for a minute. I had been planning to rent a car myself. If I managed to drop everyone cleanly inside the boat and Dox was in good shape, we could walk leisurely out to the parking lot when it was done. If he wasn’t in good shape, or if there was pursuit, having a car waiting with the engine running could make all the difference.

“All right,” I said. “You drive, and I go in.”

“Deal. How about the rest?”

“Hilger wants to do the call at sixteen hundred local time. That gives me the rest of the morning and early afternoon to pick up the other equipment I need, get a feel for the layout of the yacht club with Google Earth, reconnoiter the perimeter, and go in.”

“You sure he’ll make the call from the boat?”

I paused, seeing a disconnect between us that I’d missed until just now. “Yeah, I’m sure. The purpose of the call is proof of life. He’s got to be able to put Dox on, assuming Dox is even still alive, and there’s no way they’re going to move Dox off the boat. So the boat is where the call happens. But the call isn’t when I want to go in. I want Hilger off the boat, not on it.”

“I don’t get it. How…”

“Hilger is secondary. If I hit the boat early, maybe he won’t be there. It’s one less person shooting back at me, and Hilger is a damn good shot. If I wait until the call, their numbers likely go up, and my odds of getting Dox out go down.”

Not that I hadn’t been tempted to go for the “two birds with one stone” scenario. Certainly, the iceman wanted to do Hilger badly enough to wait until he was sure to be on the boat. But if Dox got killed because of my lust to kill Hilger, I wouldn’t be able to live with it. We could always pick him up later. One thing at a time.

Kanezaki almost said something, didn’t, then almost said it again.

“What?” I said.

“If you’re not going to do Hilger, help me with something else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I told you in the bulletin board message, this is bigger than just Hilger. The kind of thing I was hoping to prevent by taking him out, I think it’s already under way.”

I said nothing, and he went on. “Hilger used to be military, and after that, the Agency. You know what the difference is now?”

I shook my head.

“There’s no oversight now, and he’s running a for-profit outfit. Translation: He can do anything, for anybody. Look what he was mixed up with in Macau—radiological-tipped missiles with that arms merchant, Belghazi. Then in Hong Kong, nuclear matériel to the terrorist, Al-Jib. Do you see a pattern here?”

“I suppose so, but…”

“So what do you think it means that he’s found a way to put his own agent temporarily in charge of Rotterdam port security?”

“I don’t know.” I might have added that I didn’t care, but there was no advantage in provoking him.

“It means he can bring anything he wants into the port.”

“So…”

“Rotterdam is the largest container port in Europe, and every one of the world’s leading oil and chemical companies is active there. You’ve got four world-class oil refineries and more than forty chemical and petrochemical companies. We’re talking jet fuel, gasoline, everything. It’s a major terrorist target.”

“Because…”

“Because if something shuts down the refineries, the price of refined petrochemical products skyrockets. Driving, flying, heating oil, you name it. Shortages of everything, and the world economy drops to its knees.”

“You think that’s what Hilger’s up to?”

“I think that’s what he’s being paid to do, although I don’t know by whom. But here’s the way I see it. Accinelli’s company sells chemicals, right?”

“I know.”

“Including radioactive materials like cesium 137, which is used in oil drilling, atomic clocks, certain medical applications…and dirty bombs.”

I was quiet, waiting for him to go on.

“Hilger and Accinelli went way back, all the way to the first Gulf War. I think they were friends, as you suggested. I think Accinelli introduced Demeere and Boezeman at that security conference in New York, and I think Accinelli procured cesium, or something like it, for Hilger, maybe under false pretenses. I think the reason Hilger had Accinelli killed was because he knew too much, he’d be able to connect Rotterdam to Hilger if something happened there.”

“That’s a lot of speculation.”

“There’s more. Remember the British Petroleum Prudhoe Bay shutdown? Because the pipes were rusty? That was Hilger.”

“Hilger put rust in the pipes?”

“There was no rust. Hilger has information on everyone, he blackmailed the people who make those decisions at BP. All pipes have some rust, just not enough to matter. But who could contradict the company? It was the perfect excuse. I think Hilger wanted to see the global impact of an interruption. And I think he found it unsatisfactory. He wants something bigger—not just a pipeline, a whole refinery complex. Like the one at Rotterdam.”

I sighed. “Why can’t you deal with him through channels?”

He laughed. “I’ve got a friend in the Inspector General’s Office. I talked to him about Hilger once. He told me the man is untouchable. No one even wants to mention his name. The word is, he’s got leverage on a lot of people, and powerful friends, too. No one’s willing to go after him at the top, and if you try from down below you’ll run into obstructions, or worse. Do you get it now? The system’s broken.”

We were quiet for a moment. I said, “What are you asking me?”

“Boezeman lives in Amsterdam. Go there. Brace him. Find out what Hilger’s been up to and help me stop it.”

“Don’t you have real secret agents who are paid to do this kind of thing?”

“Yeah, we have lots of them. All I have to do is fill out the necessary paperwork explaining where my intel comes from—that means you, by the way. Except…oh, shit…no one knows about you. Since the first time you helped me with my treasonous boss in Tokyo, I haven’t reported our contacts, which is a felony, by the way. I’ve shredded files on you—oops, another felony. But I’m sure the bureaucrats who run the CIA and are beholden to Hilger will be happy to overlook all that and do whatever I ask of them in Amsterdam or anywhere else as long as I say please.”

He was quiet for a moment, breathing hard.

“Look,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. But we had a deal. You help me with Dox, I take out Hilger.”

“You’re breaking the deal. You’re letting Hilger walk away. I’m saying okay, just help me in Amsterdam, instead.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“You killed two people. Both with families. Don’t you even want to try to prevent whatever all that was intended to foster?”

I wasn’t even aware of crossing the room. It was like I was gone for a second, and when I came back, I had him against the wall, my hand gripping his shirt, my forearm jammed against his throat.

“I did that for my friend,” I snarled. “Not to help Hilger, or anyone else. For my friend. Because I didn’t have a choice.”

“Does that mean you don’t care?” he rasped, his mouth a grimace.

I held him there a second longer, then let him go. He coughed and massaged his throat, but he didn’t take his accusing eyes off me.

“Tell me something,” I said. “The difference between you and Hilger.”

He cleared his throat and swallowed. “The ends, Rain. It’s all about the ends.”

I looked at him. “I bet he’d say the same thing.”

“He’d be right.”

We stood there for a moment in silence. Finally, I said, “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

“You sound like Tatsu. And you’re manipulating me the way he did, too, you bastard.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, he would have said that, too.”

I borrowed his shower, changed into fresh clothes, and got ready to head out. “I’ve got some things to do,” I said. “I’ll leave my bag here, if that’s okay. Why don’t you load the gear into your van and reconnoiter the yacht club. Don’t get too close. You don’t need to know the interior layout. That’s my job. You do need to know the streets, ingress, egress, everything.”

He started to say something, but I cut him off. “Sorry,” I said. “I know you know that. I’ll meet you back here in two hours.”

He smiled and held out his hand. I shook it. He started to say something again, and again I cut him off.

“Don’t tell me to do the right thing,” I said. “I already told you I’d think about it. Don’t sell past the close.”

He looked at me. “What, are you psychic now?”