The Toymaker (28 page)

Five minutes later he reached the stone walkway of his destination, Piene del Vientos, the Comb of the Winds. The uneven stones were too rough to navigate on the bike, so he dismounted and walked the bicycle to the end of the walk.

Metal structures mounted into rocks stuck outward from several places in varying angles each with curved prongs resembling a metallurgical project gone wrong. It reminded him of oversized forks with damaged tines whose handles had become infused into the stone. What an odd place for a clandestine meeting, he thought.

Jake scanned the site and counted eighteen people, mostly couples and a few individuals seeking a moment of solitude. Conversations were dampened by the roar of crashing waves against the rocks and stone sea walls. The sound of the waves gave him a peaceful feeling. There was something about the water, he thought, the sound of waves crashing against the rocks and then receding back to the ocean that relaxed his mind.

He’d memorized Wiley’s message.

Every word.

Jake’s eyes landed on the only person that fit Wiley’s description. He expected a man but it was a woman wearing the green fleece, standing alone, gazing out over the water. She had olive skin and long red hair that draped down the back of her fleece. Directly in front of her, roughly twenty feet out was one of the metal sculptures jutting horizontally from a large rock out in the water.

Immediately to her right sat a couple on top of the three-foot rock wall that separated the walkway from the sea. The blonde woman crossed her legs in the lotus position while she scanned through pictures on her digital camera.

Further to his right, another twenty feet or more was a young blonde girl lying on her side gazing into the sea. Tendrils of her stringy blonde hair flapped with the breeze. She wore a pink short sleeve shirt and low-rise jeans with tattered bottoms.

He dug in his pocket and pulled out a city map of San Sebastian. Why all the cloak and dagger baffled Jake. He had seen these tactics used in movies. Wiley told him that in the world of espionage, old tactics and cryptic communication still worked. But this wasn’t espionage, it was about acquiring information to help him find a killer. He’d learned to trust Wiley’ wisdom. So if this was the way Wiley wanted it, then he would follow orders.

He smiled.
In a way, it is kind of cool.

He approached the woman in the green fleece from behind. He spoke fluent Spanish. “Pardon me? Can you help me with directions?” He held out the map. “I seem to be lost.”

The woman turned around and for the first time he saw her facial features. She was late twenties, dark green eyes and dark eyebrows that didn’t match the rest of her features. He realized her hair was dyed red but it complimented her olive complexion. She’d pulled a wide strand of hair over her left cheek. When the wind blew, he could see a three-inch scar.

She took the map from his hands. “Where do you want to go?”

“Monte Igueldo. Do you know the way?”

The woman pointed to the top of the hill to her left. “There is Monte Igueldo. You went right when you should have gone left.”

“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Jake asked.

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Do you have a brother named Marco? I think I see a family resemblance.”

“Marco died last year. I have no family left.” She said.

That was it, to the last word. Perfect. The message exact, identity confirmation complete.

“Do you have something for me?” Jake asked.

She dug underneath her fleece and pulled out a sealed manila envelope. “You are to treat this with the same scrutiny as his first message—eyes only.”

 “Got it.” Jake understood. Burn after reading. “Do you work for him? Are we allowed to talk?”

She smiled. “Once we confirm identities we may talk freely. My name is Francesca, I’m an Emissary.”

Emissary. There’s that word again.
“You work for Wiley too?” Jake asked.

“He told me you called him ‘the toymaker’ the first day you met.”

“I did.”

“So did I.” Francesca said. “Wiley says we think alike but I doubt it, you’re still a rookie.”

“Rookie? How old are you?” Jake studied her face. Her green eyes were penetrating. She seemed tough. He motioned to her check. “Get that in the line of duty?”

She rubbed her fingers over her scar. “Not that it is any of your business, but it is a reminder of a run in I had with an irritable Irishman.”

“Maybe Wiley’s right, we are more alike than you think. I had a run in with one of those as well.”

He had so many questions he wanted to ask. About her. About Wiley. But he didn’t have time. “Are you working with me on this?”

“No.” She smiled as she started to leave. “Wiley said you’re on your own. Sink or swim. I think you’ll be surprised at what you read. If you don’t get yourself killed, I’ll see you again…if not, it was nice meeting you.”

Jake stared as she walked away. She never looked back, never turned around, and disappeared out of sight.

He opened the envelope and read the information twice, committing every detail to memory. He was indeed surprised at what the documents contained. Vital information he needed if he wanted to kill Khan. Information that neither Bentley nor Kaplan had access to. Information that would get him to Khan, but might get him killed doing it.

The element of danger just increased tenfold.

CHAPTER 56

K
YLI WULLENWEBER AND her grandfather, Elmore Wiley landed in Brussels earlier in the day. She’d slept almost six hours on the flight back from Atlanta so she decided to go by the office to take care of her backlog of work. She’d been out of the office for several days, recovering from injuries caused by the explosion at the Louvre and attending the funeral of Jake’s parents.

She stared at her computer monitor in a daze, not focusing on her work. The last few days were surreal. Jake had saved her life in Paris, killing the second terrorist before he detonated his suicide vest, a blast that would have killed her. Jake stayed with her at the hospital during her recovery until CIA Director Scott Bentley delivered the news of the tragic fire that took the lives of his parents.

She wanted to comfort Jake at the funeral, but the reality was she hadn't known him long enough. As a matter of fact, she barely knew him. So why did she feel such a strong connection to him? It wasn’t just Paris, she felt the first pang when he left for Yemen with her grandfather. This was all new to her, these feelings. She’d had previous relationships, some she’d thought at the time were serious, but she’d never felt like this.

Come on Kyli, get a grip.

Jake still had issues with the tragic loss of his fiancée seven months ago. Wiley had explained the entire incident to her before Jake arrived in Belgium. At times, he’d seemed withdrawn, but it was always short lived. She knew Jake was interested in her. She could tell. When she stood close to him, he seemed nervous. She felt him shudder when she touched him. He needed time to cope with his past and she was willing to grant him as much time as he needed.

She shut down her computer, locked her desk, grabbed her coat, and walked to the elevator. Her backlog would have to wait until morning. Wiley had dropped her off at MEtech so she was without a car and needed a ride home.

When the elevator reached the lobby, Kyli walked over to the reception area. The office manager was shutting everything down for the day.

“Getting ready to lock up?” Kyli asked.

“Yes Dr. Kyli. You are the last to leave, as usual.”

“I know it’s a little out of your way, but would you mind taking me home? Mr. Wiley left me without a car.”

“I don’t mind at all.” The woman made a few keyboard strokes. “Let me set all the alarms, and we’ll be on our way.” She paused. “Mind if I ask a personal question?”

“I don’t mind, go ahead.”

“Why do you refer to your grandfather as Mr. Wiley?” The woman typed in the last alarm sequence. The monitor started counting down. Sixty seconds to arming. “I mean we all know he’s your grandfather. It’s not a secret.”

The two women walked through the door.

“He prefers to keep it formal unless we’re alone. Most of the time it's out of habit.”

Ten minutes later Kyli climbed out of the car, thanked the woman for the ride, and climbed the steps to her apartment. She inserted her key and unlocked the door. Inside she found her luggage exactly where her grandfather said it would be, on her bed, along with a note explaining that he would be out of town for the next few days on business. She smiled.
Yeah, spy business, I’m sure.

She unzipped her bag and began to unpack. She noticed the curtains were drawn, not how she’d left them. She assumed her grandfather was being protective and closed them for her. She tossed her dirty clothes in the hamper and walked over to the window.

She grabbed the curtains with both hands and spread them apart. A reflection in the glass stared back at her. She spun around and saw a large, silver-haired man dressed in black standing in the middle of her bedroom pointing a gun at her.

She stared at his eyes.

One blue.

One brown.

She screamed.

CHAPTER 57

K
APLAN SHIFTED IN the passenger seat when Arlo Delgado walked through the main door of the hotel, on each arm a beautiful woman. A blonde and a brunette. The late afternoon sky was streaked with contrails from a day’s worth of airline traffic overhead. Delgado was dressed in white linen pants, a blue floral print shirt, and a backpack. Both women wore white ribbon and lace tunics, bathing suits visible underneath. An oversized beach bag thrown over the shoulder of the brunette. The women wore flip-flops. It appeared the three were headed to the beach for the day. He studied the man through his binoculars, was he Khan…or not?

A taxi pulled in the circular entrance to the hotel and stopped, allowing Delgado and the women to climb inside. “Don’t let them out of our sight.” Kaplan said to Perez.

Kaplan jumped when something banged against the right rear door of Perez’s car. The door opened, a man jumped inside. Kaplan had already drawn his gun and was twisting around when the man grabbed the barrel and shoved the gun into the car’s seat.

“What the…?” Kaplan’s anger ignited when he recognized the man. “Dammit, Jake. I ought to shoot you anyway. Where the hell have you been?”

“I told you. I had to go to the bathroom.”

“Cut the bullshit, Jake. Where did you go?” Kaplan reiterated.

“I was in my room. The bathrooms at the café were in use.”

“So you went out the window in the ladies room?”

“Seemed the quickest way.” Jake said.

“And you were in your room?”

“I just said that. Hard of hearing, are you?”

“Gentlemen, please.” Perez interrupted. “Delgado and the women, they’re getting away.”

“Follow them.” Kaplan ordered. “You drive, I’ll handle Jake. Like you said, looks like they’re going to the beach.”

“They’re not getting away and they aren’t going to the beach.” Jake said.

“How do you know?” Kaplan asked.

“Drive to the middle finger pier at Puerto de San Sebastian.” Jake said. “Khan’s rented a boat for the evening. Apparently he likes taking women on sunset cruises. Not that I blame him, they are pretty hot.”

“How do you know this?” Kaplan asked. “Wiley?”

“I have my ways, Gregg.” Jake said. “Now stop wasting time with the interrogation and drive to the marina.”

Kaplan stared at Jake in disbelief. Should he trust Jake? He knew Jake was up to something, but he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. If Jake was going to kill Khan then Khan would already be dead. Jake had the opportunity. Was Jake really in his room this whole time? He and Perez didn’t check the rooms when they found Jake had escaped the café through the window so technically it was possible. Unlikely, but possible. Where else would Jake go? None of it made any sense to Kaplan.

“Well?” Perez said.

“Do like he said. Drive to the docks.” He continued staring at Jake. “You better be right and you better not try anything outside of our orders. Bentley gave me instructions to keep you from killing Khan at all cost…including the use of deadly force.”

“What purpose would that serve? If Khan is dead then how will we know what the U.S. target is?” Jake said. “And one more thing. When we get to the port and you’ve seen that I’ve been truthful, I’m taking charge of this operation.”

† † †

Delgado and the two women climbed out of the taxi and walked to the end of the finger pier where a water taxi was waiting to take them to the 40-foot cruiser Delgado had rented for the evening. The same cruiser he rented before with the same provisions. The boat wasn’t due back until 10:00 a.m. the next morning. More than enough time to take the women for a long leisurely sunset cruise, feed them their last meal, perhaps indulge in carnal pleasures one last time, then send them both to the depths of the Capbreton Canyon in the Bay of Biscay where they will spend eternity inside the sediment over four thousand feet below the surface.

A small water taxi carried them to the vessel moored a few hundred yards out on the clear waters of the Bahia de la Concha. Delgado let the two women climb onboard first, tipped the water taxi driver, and climbed onboard pushing the bow of the small boat away from the cruiser with his foot. The water taxi motored back to the docks.

Delgado flipped the switch activating the blower, letting it run a few minutes while it exhaled any fumes that might have built up in the engine compartment prior to starting the engines. The women wasted no time removing their tunics and climbing onto the bow of the boat to catch the last of the sun’s rays.

He stared at the women through the windshield of the cruiser; they were both beautiful. The brunette wore a pastel twist bandeau top; her bare shoulders glistened in the sun as she smoothed tanning oil across them. A silver Nautilus pendant hung from a chain and dipped precariously into her cleavage. Her pastel low-rise bottom matched her top. Her thick long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and draped down her back.