Clarke stared back sullenly. “Just stay out of my way.”
Gerrit lowered his eyes to make it appear he relented. The man’s belligerent attitude seemed out of place, unlike their meeting in Harrogate. Maybe Kane and George Lawton sitting in the same room forced Clarke to mask his true feelings back there. Not anymore.
Clarke leaned back for a moment, letting his breath out slowly. “I have-we have-certain pressures on the CESG right now, and maybe-”
“Forget it. Let’s just get you home safely, shall we?”
Looking resigned, Clarke nodded.
One of the two NFL guys sauntered up, the man Clarke singled out as heading up security. “Everything okay, Dr. Clarke?” The man kept his eyes focused on Gerrit as he spoke.
“Just fine, James. Have you met Dr. O’Rourke? As you know, he’s joining our entourage for a few days. Doctor, this is James Stafford.”
The man’s grip tried to crush Gerrit’s hand. “We need to talk, Dr. O’Rourke. Make sure our efforts are adequately coordinated.”
Gerrit gingerly extracted his hand. “Anytime you’re ready.”
“Meet you upstairs when Dr. Clarke is finished here?” James provided a room number. “In about twenty minutes?” The man turned and rejoined his partner without waiting for Gerrit’s reply.
Flexing his hand, trying to get feeling back, Gerrit watched Stafford whisper to his partner across the room. Between Clarke and Stafford, Gerrit felt about as welcome as a vegetarian at a barbeque rib cook-off. If he didn’t watch himself, they just might throw him on their grill and roast him alive.
Chapter 14
35,000 Feet above the Atlantic Ocean
Turbulence jostled Richard Kane as he reached for the phone. All the money he spent on this jet-with all its luxury and comfort-could not buy him a smooth flight. The Global 8000 business jet dipped suddenly as if a giant hand let go and allowed the aircraft to free fall. A few moments later, the pilot raised the nose, slowly regaining altitude.
Cradling the receiver in one hand, Kane dialed a memorized number and let it ring. A sultry woman’s voice came on the line. “Richard, I’d know your tone anywhere.”
Kane breathed heavily, remembering his time with her only a few months ago when he was recruiting. The only language she spoke was the dollar bill-or euro. She was worth every cent.
“Collette, my dear. How’s Vienna?”
“Very productive. And on your end?”
Kane dispensed with the niceties. “Time’s short, Collette. I have to know whether Gerrit will be a team player. Everything is set to be launched in just a few weeks. Maybe sooner. I need him on board when we launch-or terminated if he chooses to walk away. Understand?”
“I understand, Richard.”
“Good. Gerrit just reached the hotel. He’s in play. Are your people ready?”
“We will be when I hang up. Au revoir, Richard.”
Kane killed the connection.
Gerrit reached James Stafford’s room, trying to knock twice in quick succession. Stafford yanked the door open before Gerrit could strike a second time.
“Grab a chair.” James quickly closed the door behind Gerrit.
The room was sparse, compared to Clarke’s, but even so it gleamed with elegance. After Gerrit sat down, James dragged a chair across the room and turned it around so he could straddle it. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, as you Yanks are apt to say. We don’t need an American telling us how to protect Clarke. So…why are you here?”
“You know why I’m here.”
“Hang it, man. I know when George Lawton is behind something; it’s never what it seems. I don’t want to get shot-or fail in my duties to protect Clarke-because you and your CIA spooks are up to no-good, keeping us in the dark. Tell me what you’re up to or I’ll bounce you off this detail.”
“I thought the British were more tactful. And what makes you think I work for the CIA?”
Stafford glared at him without answering.
“By the way, don’t you work for Lawton?”
“I work for a lot of people,” he said, ignoring any further reference to the CIA, as if it was already understood.
“What did Lawton tell you?” Gerrit knew he was buying time. He tried to figure how to handle this without making another enemy. Clarke was enough to deal with right now.
“Never mind about him. I want to hear it from you.”
“Just stay focused on Clarke and you’ll be in the clear. That’s all I can tell you.”
Stafford shoved himself off the chair. “I knew it. Lawton’s got his hands into something else and using this as cover.”
“I’d let it alone. Better if you just do what you’re told…just like me.”
“Playing the good soldier, eh? Could get you killed in this business.”
“So could riding in a car. But we do it anyway.”
“A car only gets you and other passengers dead. This business can kill a lot more people. Particularly when you don’t know what you’re up against.”
“You have to trust the ones you’re working with.”
Stafford sneered. “What kind of world are you living in? In my business, I trust no one. That’s how I stay alive.”
Gerrit eased himself from the chair. Trust was a word he rarely used. It had been a long time since he thought of trusting anyone. The older he got, the less trust he had in people. James hit it on the head. Trust no one.
Particularly men like Richard Kane.
“I’m not an idiot,” Gerrit said. “I imagine we’ve both worked on the dark side, taking chances and doing things for God and country that others never hear about. I know the cost of doing business. We’ve both paid that price. So, let’s get about our business and trust that everything turns out all right.”
Stafford grimaced. “This is not some fairy tale, O’Rourke. People get hurt. People die. That’s just the way things are.”
Gerrit strode to the door. “At times good people die and bad people survive. It’s our job to try to even the score. Just do your job and stay out of my way. See you downstairs.”
He slammed the door behind him, knowing that he was on his own. The story of his life in a nutshell.
Chapter 15
Vienna, Austria
Scientists could make a gunfight sound as dry as Death Valley. Gerrit couldn’t take much more of this dribble.
It was the third day of the conference. Bored, Gerrit returned to his hotel room to find a brown leather briefcase on his bed. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, brightening an otherwise drab day. He’d left Henry Clarke minutes ago as the scientist continued to drone on as a member of the panel, boring everyone in the room about cyber security.
Kane had reached Gerrit by phone yesterday, telling him to expect this briefcase and provided a combination to open it. The lock sprung open as he entered the last digit of the combination and pressed the release. He found a
