His parents and his ex-wife were dead. His daughter was gone. All he had left was the woman in the car.
But he needed help.
And though this congenial black man of obvious power had said he was free to leave, he doubted that was the case.
Take a chance.
He asked, “Do you know a place called Falcon Ridge?”
Rowe nodded. “It’s not far from my estate.”
“That’s where we have to go.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY
ZACHARIAH BUCKLED HIS SEAT BELT AND WATCHED AS ALLE AND Rocha did the same. The long flight across the Atlantic was about over. They’d stopped only once for fuel, in Lisbon, then flown directly here to Kingston. His watch read 12:25 A.M., local time, March 9th. Saturday.
Another day had passed.
Both Alle and Rocha had slept on the trip. He’d dozed in and out, his mind unable to relax. It excited him to know there were Israelis in authority waiting for him to act. Finally, after decades of concession and complacency something might be accomplished. His father and grandfather would be proud. He was about to succeed where they each had failed. But that all depended on Bene Rowe’s cooperation.
Sagan should already be on the ground, which meant Rowe was with him, probably trying to learn all that he could. He hoped his ploy about another piece of the puzzle would at least give Rowe some pause. He was betting Rowe would limit those involved. Doubtful that he’d want any of his men trying to take advantage. Sure, Rowe had made clear that somebody would be waiting at the airport to meet them, but he’d never said where they would be taken.
So he wondered.
Could the odds be evened?
Alle stood from her seat and made her way to the lavatory. The pilot had just advised that they would be landing shortly. He waited until the door was shut then motioned for Rocha to leave his seat and come closer. In a low voice he explained what he wanted done.
Rocha nodded.
The answer clear.
———
TOM SAT IN THE PICKUP’S PASSENGER SEAT AND ASKED, “HOW DO you know Simon?”
“I read about you on the Internet. A big-time reporter who found some trouble.”
Not an answer to his question. “Don’t believe everything you read online. Big mistake.”
Rowe chuckled. “You should read what they say about me there. Shocking. Disgraceful stuff.”
But he wondered how far off the mark that slander might be.
And already he began to question the wisdom of his actions.
They were leaving the airport on a black highway, the road smooth and straight, traffic nearly nonexistent. A full moon brightened the midnight sky.
“How do you know Simon?” he asked again.
“We met a year ago. He wanted help finding a lost mine and I offered it.”
“And Brian Jamison? You know him, too.”
“Did you meet Brian?”
“He was an American agent, working for the Justice Department. My daughter was told he worked for you.”
“That was a lie.”
“He’s dead.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I’d say Jamison leaned on you. Judging by your entourage, I’d also say that you know your way around the local criminal justice system. What did Jamison want? Simon?”
“What else. He made me help, and I did what he wanted.”
“Did you have him killed in Vienna?”
Rowe shook his head. “Simon took him down. All his doing.”
“I assume Jamison never said why the Americans were interested in Simon?”
