“Is this seat taken?”
Shada looked up, ready to shoo away another unwanted visitor, but she recognized the pretty face. They’d met once before. It was a hookup that Shada had arranged for Habib over the Internet, but Shada had cut it off because she was too young-just a girl, not a woman.
“What are you doing here?” asked Shada.
The girl stood there, silent, the expression on her face a whirl of angst and confusion. Perhaps there was some fear, too, but Shada didn’t have enough time to read every emotion. Without invitation, the girl took a seat, leaned on the tabletop, and broke her silence.
“What do you think I’m doing here, Maysoon?”
For no apparent reason, the girl dug her cell phone out of her coat pocket and laid it on the table between them. Shada had learned enough about computers from her husband to understand what that meant: Someone was listening to their conversation. The girl had activated the spyware with typical teenage awkwardness, which made Shada wonder about the crank ring right before the girl’s arrival. It hardly seemed like a coincidence that it had prompted Shada to lay her own cell on the table in front of her, where the right spyware could pick up her conversations.
Shada removed her cell phone’s battery and tucked the separated components into her pocket. Then she leaned into the table, choosing her words carefully, speaking not to the girl but to the girl’s phone-and trusting her instinct as to the eavesdropper’s identity.
“Habib,” Shada said, “let’s talk.”
Chapter Seventy-four
Shada is sitting with the girl!” said Jack.
Jack was speaking into his cell phone, pacing back and forth in front of a crowded merchant booth. He had Chuck on the line.
“What girl?” asked Chuck.
“The one who called me yesterday after Jamal’s uncle rescued her.”
“Are you sure?”
A couple of restaurant owners were haggling with a South African lobster salesman, and it was getting loud. Jack stepped away.
“I’m sure it’s her,” Jack said. “I recognized the voice right away. Then I lost audio. I’m still in the trading hall about two hundred feet away, but I think I saw Shada take the battery out of her phone.”
“That’s the one way to deactivate the spyware,” said Chuck. “What can you see now?”
Jack’s gaze shifted back to the cafe. “They’re still sitting at the table talking to each other. No, wait. The girl just answered her cell phone. She’s handing it to Shada. Shada’s talking to someone. This is getting really weird.”
“Agreed, but the possibilities are limited.”
A forklift with bags of ice rolled down the aisle. Jack dodged out of the way. “Limited in what way?”
“Only two ways for that girl to have known how to find Shada. Either Shada made contact and told her where she was going. Or she’s here on behalf of the same lunatic who kept her in a cellar.”
Jack thought about it. “Like I said: This is getting weird.”
“Don’t call the police just yet,” said Chuck. “Let’s see where this leads. As long as they’re in the building and in your sights, the situation is under control.”
“Will do,” said Jack.
“I’m sorry,” Shada said into the phone, pleading. “From the bottom of my heart, I want you to know that.”
“You had no right to copy files from my computer,” the Dark said.
“I should never have listened to Chuck.”
“You screwed up everything, Shada.”
“No, listen to me. I never gave the flash drives to anyone. Definitely not to Chuck. I haven’t even looked at all the video.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth.”
There was silence on the line. The girl sat all the way back in her chair, arms folded tightly, as if trying to figure Shada out. Shada avoided making eye contact.
“Habib, are you still there?” There was just enough noise around to keep Shada from distinguishing dead air from the sound of Habib mulling things over. Finally, he answered.
“Tell me why I should believe you, Shada. Why should I believe anything you say?”
Shada tried to stay cool, especially in front of the girl. But it wasn’t easy, knowing that the wrong words could be fatal. She cupped her hand and covered her mouth-an extra precaution against being overheard.
“Because I have a quarter million pounds in my backpack for you,” she said.
“That’s a good start,” he said. “Give the backpack to the girl.”
“It’s not that simple,” she said.
“Give it to her.”
“Wait,” she said, a bit unnerved by his tone. “You need to know that there’s a tracking chip embedded in one of the bills. Chuck can follow the money wherever it goes.”
“Do you have any idea which bill?”
“Yes. Chuck told me this morning. But knowing Chuck, I’m sure there’s more than one.”
“Is there someplace you can go to check the other bills?”
Shada lowered her voice further, increasingly nervous about holding so much cash. “Even if I had the time to do that-there are five hundred notes here-it’s a microchip I’d be looking for. It isn’t easy to see, unless you know it’s there.”
“That’s a problem.”
“If your personal assistant here brings the money to you, the police are sure to follow.”
“That’s an even bigger problem.”
“I can fix it,” said Shada. “Let me come with her. I’ll bring the money to you personally.”
“That doesn’t fix anything.”
“Yes, it does,” said Shada.
“What difference does it make if you come or not?”
Had the girl not been watching her, the cell phone would have been shaking in Shada’s hand. She kept her nerves in check.
“All the difference in the world,” said Shada. “I have a plan.”
Chapter Seventy-five
They’re leaving the cafe,” said Jack. He still had Chuck on the line.
“Together?”
“Yes,” Jack said. “They’re heading for the main exit.”
“Perfect. As soon as they leave the building, I’ll be able to pick up the tracking chip in the money. Stay with them, but keep your distance. If I lose the GPS signal for some reason, my backup is you.”
“Police officers are much better at this than I am.”
“We can call the police as soon as these two lead us to Vince. Just stick with the plan a few more minutes.”
It was after six A.M., a full ninety minutes before sunrise, peak hour for the fish market. The crowd around the exit was almost double what Jack had seen on the way in. The men walking out with coolers on their heads
