The Man in the Barretina Hat, page 19
Even more concerning, three years ago the military cancelled all contracts with these men and added their names to a blacklist. Cuba was given a copy of the rebel list. The Russian government no longer wanted to deal with these people, nor did they want any of their allies doing business with them either. Typical for such denunciations, the explanation was kept brief. The read-through of two poignant words—unreliable contact—really meant “individual gone rogue.”
Ana then switched to another page of the document. These men had stayed active. At least fifty companies tied back to them. Ana moved her cursor over one name about a third of the way down the list: Excogitatoris Consulting.
The same men who had been declared enemies of the Russian state were funding James’ company. And James was supposed to be an undercover agent for Russia.
On the team’s portal, Ana opened a folder of work Saul had been investigating.
It turned out Excogitatoris Consulting had also signed contracts with multiple churches across Malta, all for miscellaneous construction work. In the past twelve months, these churches received substantial donations from entities that traced back to the Tartu Five.
Not so coincidentally, it was at one of these churches that the Big Reveal’s breakout groups were scheduled to be held.
When they updated Carlos and the rest of the team, another missing piece fell into place. “The so-called construction work done by Excogitatoris Consulting was likely carried out underneath the church,” Carlos told them. “I bet they turned the old tunnels into the dungeon where they kept me. They removed door handles from the inside and closed off access.”
Then his face turned ashen. “That means James, or Yakov, is involved in this scheme. He intentionally kept me ill and weak. Damn, he knew where Myriam was being held. I bet he never planned on actually rescuing Peter. He just wanted information.”
Gerardo quietly put together another connection. Nadya also mistrusted James.
41
Released
“She is of no use to us. Let me release her.” Nadya explained her plan to her superior for a third time. She kept it succinct. Myriam would gain consciousness sitting at a park table near her home. Short-term memory was malleable. Nadya understood how to modify and erase those recollections that led back to her. Though her true intention to separate herself from their experiment remained hidden, her outward story focussed on what little she had gained from Myriam. It was time to end the operation.
Her boss felt she should try to push once more. If that failed, release was not the end game he envisioned.
She tried another tactic. “If I do that, my fate is in jeopardy. She is an ally. We cannot do this to each other, regardless of past decisions. There will be consequences. My plan allows us to duck out from this problem without anyone ever knowing we were involved.” She emphasized we, not wanting to highlight that it was her own face Myriam would recognize.
“Stop antagonizing me. Make this disappear completely, no placid waking up on some park bench. Do what we trained you to do.” He spat the last words into the phone, disconnecting before Nadya could utter a response.
She contemplated calling Gerardo once more. She could run to the Cuban government’s protection immediately, hand over a second agent and then defect. The risk would be immense. With what she had already done, she still had an out. Let some time pass. Maybe she would cross over to Cuba, maybe not. That way, there would be no clear link between her and the events about to unfold. Plus, she could carry on knowing she had helped a friend. Carlos is a good man.
But if she handed Myriam over to Cuba, there would be no hiding. No matter what precautions she took, Mama Russia would eventually track her down. This reality crumpled all hope, smashing the bewitching temptation she had shaped so dearly over the past few days. Her life would not change. Sadly, she had made her choice years ago.
With this realization, Nadya picked up her medical kit. Her footsteps clipped against the tile like the metronome that had impelled her as a child to practice piano for one more painful hour when all she wanted to do was run outside and play. If only she had known how light a sentence that charge was in comparison to what she would face as an adult.
She opened the door. A smooth cotton sheet and plump white pillow made the scene look almost pleasant. The sheet obscured the woman’s face, but its movement confirmed that she was breathing. Gently. Evenly. Underneath, an oxygen mask pumped filtered air mixed with a sedative. The other monitors had already been unplugged. Nadya would miss Eva’s efficiency after this mission ended.
Nadya knew how much to increase the dose to make the shift painless. She knew what to add to the solution to ensure the result was permanent. No further inquisition would be held under her watch, no matter what her boss wanted.
She never wanted to look into those eyes again. Even sedated, they spoke too many words and conveyed too much lost emotion. She left the sheet where it lay.
When she left the room this time, she had no need to lock the door. Her trusted Dmitri would handle the rest. Deep oceans and weighted cargo made for the cleanest disposal.
Nadya made one more call. It was the first time that she had spoken to her boss twice in one day. “Bring me back. I’m done.”
***
After the team cleared out, Dmitri made a final sweep of the floor. He did this job for every assignment, checking desk drawers and behind doors to be sure they had removed all traces of their operation.
Since rifling through the professors’ offices, he had developed his own theory. He knew times had changed since he’d gone to school, but these instructors seemed to be involved in way more than just teaching. It felt off. And packing up and leaving today left the job half done. He expected to hear about it at some point. Some other division would likely be assigned to carry out the final steps.
Dmitri was certain the professors would not live to see their students graduate. People went missing for a reason. In his mind, it meant one of two things: either they were involved with something shady or they had made friends with the wrong folks. Dmitri bet on the former, considering the hidden files and articles the professors gravitated towards. He suspected the two men were developing some high-tech infiltration system they planned to sell to the highest bidder. Their interest in and ability to tap into secure data sites around the world and then filter and connect whatever they found only proved his point. Confidential communications would garner a very high price from those seeking inside knowledge of foreign powers’ strategies.
Frankly, Dmitri wished he was on the team tasked with ending their charade. Instead, he got stuck disposing of a lifeless body.
Nadya had not told him directly, but he was pretty certain she had not extracted any more information from the professor’s wife. When he entered the last room of their rented third-floor clinic, Dmitri checked the cabinet shelves to be sure they were empty. The rental company would pick up the medical equipment sometime over the following week, so he wrapped their power cords and left them where they sat. He glanced at the closet, knowing no one had used it. The orange Sanitized sticker that had been there when the team first moved in hung limply on the edge of the door.
Turning away, he grabbed the handle of an extra-large suitcase he had left in the corner over two weeks earlier. Luggage had become his signature tool. Dmitri knelt down, unzipped the flap and unclipped the interior straps. They would come in handy. He cleared his mind, intent on making no mistakes. The bedsheet would only take up space, so he pulled it and the blanket aside. He gaped at the bed. Except for a pile of pillows and the strewn bedding. “Damn. She is such a control freak.”
Dmitri kicked the bed. It rolled half a metre before its wheels rotated inwards and stopped. He couldn’t believe Nadya had done this again, not trusting anyone but herself to do something important. She had seemed to be learning how to lead a team but then, just the other day, she took off by herself without talking to anyone for over twenty-four hours.
Frustrated, Dmitri zipped the suitcase closed and decided to use it to pack his own gear before heading to the airport.
***
At two in the morning, five passengers boarded a jet parked on a private airstrip on the west side of the island. Nadya selected a seat at the opposite end of the cabin to the other doctor. She considered his involvement an imposition on her team. He was one of her supervisor’s minions who occasionally dropped in unannounced. Although a shrewd medical specialist, his ethical line in the sand had blown away years ago. He proved more pawn than practitioner. Dmitri and Dominik sat in the centre of the plane, arguing intensely over which pursuit took more physical strength: climbing K2 or skiing to the South Pole. They did not even pause as she walked past.
Eva, Nadya’s favourite nurse, sat across from her and glanced over with a brief look of knowing relief. This was her final mission. For the past week, all she had spoken of was how she couldn’t wait to head to her small house in the mountains after this assignment wrapped up. Her retirement had been agreed to long before the project began.
A steward passed around full glasses of vodka. Nadya tipped hers back. It was the first of many. No matter how much she tried to mute the screenplay of her own reality, scenes kept flashing through her mind. Only hours later did darkness creep in.
42
Disarray
If it had been possible to turn the room into more of a wreck, he would have done it. James ripped doors off cupboards and yanked up floorboards. The fisherman’s hut looked even more dejected and rundown than when he had first found it. Only now, it offered him nothing.
He could not figure out how Carlos had escaped. The lock on the door remained untouched.
Outside, James peered at the tire tracks that approached the hut. At first he thought they were fresh since he hadn’t noticed them before. But looking closer, he saw that tiny plants had sprung up through the ridges. Sand had blown into the grooves. Last night had been calm. Whoever came must have been here at least a day ago.
Furious, James cleared out all of his things from the hut. He removed the lock, replacing the door to its previous state. If Nadya was not involved, there was someone else he needed to see. This time, he would not call ahead.
James headed towards the shed at the far end of the beach. He revved his car’s engine before slamming it into gear, kicking up sand as he left the inlet. He didn’t care what tracks he left.
He drove towards Valletta and parked near a small port at the edge of the city centre. From there, he walked the remaining distance.
The more he thought about the situation, the angrier he became. Fresh air did not help clear his head.
He stormed through the doors of the bank.
A security guard stepped forward. “Excuse me, sir. May I help you?”
“Yes. Tell Mr. Ast that he has a visitor.” James enunciated each word with precision, trying to contain the turmoil roiling beneath the surface.
The guard pressed him. “Mr. Ast is a very busy man and does not take walk-in appointments.”
James looked the man in the eyes. “Tell Mr. Ast that Mr. Glacier is in his lobby.” After he’d launched his business operations in Canada’s north, he’d been given that nickname as the investor group’s gateway to the Arctic.
“Certainly, sir.” The guard nodded at James to take a seat. Then he walked to his post and picked up the phone.
James avoided opening his phone. Instead he stared at the old-fashioned clock hanging above the tellers. Its second hand seemed to click forward in slow motion.
“Please follow me.” The guard led James to the elevator bank and escorted him to the fourth floor. The executives and investment advisors kept their offices on this top level. A receptionist greeted the guard and told him to take James to the second meeting room.
Once James was alone, Mr. Ast entered the room. “I am surprised to see you here. We were not to meet again until next week. Although, I must say, your recent visit to my asset’s headquarters gave me a clue you were in town. No worries, though. I simply intensified his treatment. It’s a wonder what twenty-four-hour therapy can achieve.”
This news only fuelled James’ already sour mood. “You would have sent me in blind! Next week I was supposed to sweep the place and ensure all traces were gone. Did you really expect me to do that without any advance reconnaissance? Or did you intend to keep the location from me, hoping I would hunt it down, unaware of your little toys, so you could knock me off and avoid paying me?” He rubbed his shoulder.
Tossing in a Snickers bar may have gained an ally in Peter, but the experience killed any remaining trust James had in his associates. They seemed to be throwing him a not-so-tasty treat of their own.
“Well, it seems you have a propensity to arrive prematurely. Besides, that little welcome gift should not have slowed down someone of your calibre.” Mr. Ast looked at James grimly. “Now, as for today’s visit, it is rather untimely. I trust you are bringing critical news you could not tell me by phone. Are you hand-delivering the revised report that you messed up last quarter?”
“Last month’s mishap was weather related. Nothing has changed in military positions since the prior report. I kept my side of the bargain. Then you stole my asset right before it yielded results. Big results. Our arrangement is off, both here and at home.” James glared, unsure how the situation had fallen so far out of his control.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Glacier. I am sure you are aware that games are useless at this point in the transaction. Nothing has changed. I don’t care how you do it, but get out of here and do your job—as and when agreed.” Mr. Ast glanced up at a point high on the wall. “And don’t try anything stupid, this room has video. I have security.”
James smirked. “Your threats are thin. Perhaps I’ll have to make another trip to your asset’s headquarters and start its cleanup sooner than planned.”
“Well, I am sure you recall that such an unapproved act would nullify all future payments. In fact, my next capital injection into your Canadian venture has been delayed for an indeterminate amount of time, until you deliver what was promised. Last quarter’s report is overdue.”
James left the building without saying another word. Incoherent thoughts raged through his mind.
He drove to the university and parked outside the building that housed the IT department. Students wandered carelessly, and James had to swerve on two occasions to avoid running into them as he walked to the main door. The hallways inside the building were quieter.
The upper floor, however, proved more difficult. Professors worked with their doors ajar to counteract the poor ventilation and muggy weather. James wasn’t even sure what he hoped to find. Obviously Carlos would not be hiding in his office.
Frustrated, he pulled his cap low and walked directly to Carlos’ door. It was locked. A few newsletters stuck out from under the door, suggesting no one had come or gone recently.
James quietly jimmied the lock and slipped inside. He stepped over the papers on the floor. As he closed the door, one sheet caught the breeze and blew across the hall. Shit.
The office looked as if Carlos had just left for the day. Two stacks of papers sat on top of his desk, one already graded, the other awaiting review. Pens stood in a cup on the corner of the desk. The bookshelf brimmed with neatly arranged books, aligned in alphabetical order. Even the drawers were kept tidy with little trays and neatly clipped notes.
James gave up and left. He shoved the newsletter that had blown into the hallway back under the door before returning to his car.
Cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner, he pulled out his laptop. He should be able to find Carlos the same way he always did—the GPS tracking system. James entered the codes he had memorized so many years ago. A red dot blinked offshore from the fisherman’s hut. Bloody hell, he’s gone and holed up on a boat. I bet he was watching the whole time I ransacked the place.
43
Full Clearance
Gerardo switched off his phone at 1:00 a.m. Head office had given him full clearance to close down the mounting situation. Initially they had wanted to send in more support, but they eventually agreed to a smaller team. The ability to be more nimble and less noticeable clenched the decision.
Nadya’s request would be handled separately, and only after this mission was over. Too much remained at stake. The threat posed by a rogue group of an ally’s ex-intelligence agents reverberated up a narrow band of senior Cuban officials. Sleep would most likely elude them all that night.
Gerardo sighed. The approach head office eventually approved was precisely the assumption his team had been working on for the entire day.
They had branched into subgroups. Divide and conquer.
Cristabel and Saul focussed on finding Peter. Cristabel forged ahead in the background, frustrated that she still wasn’t strong enough to get out into the field. Instead, she used her skills to find a back route into the city’s CCTV records. The cameras did not capture the location where Carlos was taken, but something might be recorded related to Peter’s kidnapping. Knowing the precise time Carlos had been abducted allowed her to work backwards.
She focussed on the fourteen-hour period between his disappearance and the last time he had spoken with Peter. Zeroing in on the streets near the churches that had recently received large anonymous donations, she downloaded a short list of video clips and sent them to Carlos. He would recognize Peter more quickly than anyone else on the team.
