From an Unknown Sender, page 16
Marit joined him. “Now check the one by the navy yacht.”
“Nineteen,” Lars said, meeting her eyes. “I think you nailed it. The Nehalennia’s assigned berth is 22 at Dock 1.”
Chapter 22
Someone was cooking. The savory aroma of garlic and thyme assailed Marit the moment she walked through the door of her flat.
“Whoa!” Lars entered right behind her. “Something smells good!”
“Yeah. It really does,” Marit said.
In the kitchen, Isabelle added something to a large pot on the stove and turned to greet them.
“Hi. How was the photo shoot?”
“We got through everything,” Marit said, “but it was really cold.”
“I can only imagine. When Cole and I went out this afternoon, I came back chilled to the bone, and we weren’t right by the sea.” Isabelle gestured toward the pot. “I thought some hot soup might help. I hope you don’t mind that I rooted through your cupboards to find a few things.”
“Not at all.” Marit moved closer to the stove and breathed deeply. “What is it?”
“Vegetable and meatball soup.”
Marit pressed her hand to her stomach. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was. “That sounds wonderful.”
“And you’ve even roped Cole into helping make dinner.” Lars eyed the loaf of bread Cole was slicing. “Does cutting bread count? I mean, he’s not actually making anything.”
“It counts.” Cole was emphatic.
Marit schooled her features to prevent her smile from becoming a laugh. “The slices are perfectly even, and that’s hard to do on fresh bread.”
“See?” Cole jerked his head toward Marit. “Listen to your girlfriend. This is not an easy job.”
Lars snorted, and Marit lost her battle. Her laughter joined Isabelle’s.
With a roll of his eyes, Cole set the last piece of bread on the serving platter. “There,” he said. “It’s done. Now tell me about Nehalennia.”
“Not yet,” Isabelle said. “Let’s talk over dinner. Marit and Lars, go take off your coats, and I’ll fill the soup bowls.”
Isabelle’s soup tasted as delicious as it smelled, and as Cole and Lars helped themselves to second servings, Marit concluded her account of seeing the Nehalennia from the deck of the yacht and her begging Noah to photograph it.
“So this guy, Noah, said he’d send you the photos?” Cole said.
“Yes.” Marit checked her phone. Still no emails.
“Do you think he’ll come through?”
“I really hope so.”
“For a professional photographer, that was a pretty big favor,” Lars said.
“I know.” Marit shrugged. “He’d heard that I’d agreed to come in even though I was supposed to be on holiday. I think it made him feel like he’d evened the score.”
“The boat hadn’t come back when I picked Marit up, but we figured out where it’s berthed,” Lars said. He grabbed the pen and pad of paper on the kitchen counter and scribbled something down before sliding it across the kitchen table toward Cole. “That’s the berth and dock number.”
Marit stared at Lars’s note. B 22 D 1. She’d known the information already. Was that why it looked so familiar on paper? She scrunched her forehead in thought. B 22 D 1. Cole reached for the pad, his thumb covering the first letter. And then it came to her. “Cole! That’s it!” Her startled outburst caught everyone’s attention. “Look at the way Lars wrote the boat’s mooring information.”
Cole glanced back at the paper in his hand. His expression registered his dawning comprehension immediately.
“Marit, you’re brilliant.” He turned the pad around so Isabelle could see it more clearly. “Take off the B and what have you got?”
It didn’t take Isabelle more than a second to catch on. “The first part of the coded message,” she said.
“22D1,” Lars repeated. “If the person who picked up the USB stick knew he was to meet a boat, he’d guess the first number was its berth. He’d just need to know which of the docks it was using.”
“Exactly.” Cole had already grabbed his computer. “And now that we know what we’re working with, the second part of the code may be easier to figure out.”
Cole’s fingers flew across the keyboard and then paused as though he was waiting for something to pull up.
Marit’s phone pinged. She picked it up and read the message. “Stella sent me the photos,” she said.
Lars released a tense breath. “All right. Pull them up on the computer. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
***
Isabelle crowded around Marit’s laptop with Lars and Cole so she could see the images of the Nehalennia. The first few didn’t reveal much beyond the side of the speedboat as it maneuvered past.
“A boat.” Lars shook his head. “I never would have guessed that’s what we were looking for.”
“‘She Who Is At Sea,’” Isabelle said. “The clue was in Nehalennia’s name.” She glanced at Cole. “Any idea what the rest of the code means?”
“Not yet.”
Not yet. Isabelle didn’t miss the determination those two words implied. She put her hand on Cole’s back. “You’ll figure it out.”
“I’d better,” Cole said. “I did manage to decode the other two files on the flash drive. Both of them had similar codes. The first few characters are the same as the first one and so are the last two letters, but the numbers in the middle change.”
“But now we know that the first part of the code is a location,” Isabelle said.
Marit clicked on the next image of the Nehalennia, this one a close-up version.
Cole tensed and motioned to the screen. “Marit, zoom in on the people.”
Marit zoomed in.
A stocky man in his early thirties, his hair covered by a knit cap. Another man stood at the wheel, his hair also covered by his hat, but he stood several inches taller than the first, his frame long and lean.
Isabelle waited for Cole to comment. When he didn’t, she interpreted the silence. Cole knew these men. Or he knew one of them. Otherwise, he would be plotting how to identify them.
“Maybe we should hook this up to my TV so we can see it better,” Marit suggested.
“Good idea.” Cole stepped back to give her room to stand.
Isabelle moved to the couch and sat while Marit connected her laptop to the big-screen TV hanging on her wall.
Lars claimed the large chair beside the couch. “Any idea how this boat is connected to the package?”
“No.” Cole sat beside Isabelle on the couch, but he didn’t comment further until Marit reached the final image. “Marit, can you forward those to me?”
“Sure. I’ll give you access to the shared drive.” Marit held up her hand. “But only if you promise they won’t be used on social media or in the public anywhere. Noah will have my head if he sees his photos being used without his permission.”
“Not a problem.” Cole gave her an email address where she could send him the link for the shared drive.
Marit sent the email, then sat on the oversized chair with Lars. “Since we now know Nehalennia is a boat and we know where it’s docked, is there a way to find out who owns it?”
“Let me make a quick call,” Cole said. “I’ll put in a request to have someone pull that.”
“You can use my bedroom if you need some privacy,” Isabelle offered.
“Thanks.” Cole disappeared into the guest room. Within seconds, his muffled voice carried to them.
No one spoke for a minute, until Marit finally asked, “What else can we do to help?”
What should they do next? Isabelle thought. This clue about the Nehalennia and its occupants could be significant, but Cole clearly wasn’t willing to share his insights with civilians. Focusing on what Lars and Marit could help with, Isabelle said, “We still haven’t finished going through the surveillance feed from Museumplein.”
“I guess we should get back to that,” Lars said.
“Or maybe we should find some new surveillance feed to watch,” Marit suggested.
“What did you have in mind?” Isabelle asked.
“I know Cole set up hidden cameras at the rental where the packages are supposed to be delivered,” Marit said. “Is it possible to also set some up by the dock?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Lars said.
Cole returned to the room. “What’s not a bad idea?”
“Setting up surveillance at the dock.” Isabelle’s gaze met Cole’s. “You do have extra cameras that you didn’t use.” Pretending she didn’t already know the specs for them, she asked, “Will they work outside?”
“Yeah.” Cole glanced out the window. “And it’s already dark. I can go plant them now.”
Isabelle stood. “I’ll come with you.”
“Maybe I should be the one to go.” Lars also stood. He cast an apologetic glance at Isabelle. “No offense, Isabelle, but the docks aren’t the kind of place where a woman should be at night.”
“I’ll be fine,” Isabelle insisted. Besides, she needed to talk to Cole alone. Otherwise, how would she find out what he was hiding from the others?
“She can be my lookout,” Cole said. “And I’d rather Marit and Isabelle not be alone here.”
Isabelle bit back a smirk. She and Cole both knew that she was more than capable of protecting herself, but if throwing Lars the gentlemanly duty of staying with his girlfriend would give them some privacy, she would play along.
Lars debated for a moment before he nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”
Cole pulled the rental car key from his pocket. “Come on, Isabelle. Let’s see how fast we can get this done.”
“What do you want us to do while you’re gone?” Marit asked.
“You can either go over some of the surveillance feed we haven’t looked at yet,” Cole said, “or you can take a break until we get over to the dock and check our camera feed as I set everything up.”
“I vote for the second option.” Lars dropped back onto the chair beside Marit. “My eyes are going to fall out if I stare at security feed any more today.”
“You’ve hardly watched any today,” Marit said.
“Yeah, but yesterday we watched enough to last me for a month.” Lars stretched his arm around Marit’s shoulders. “We can leave that until tomorrow.”
“He’s right,” Isabelle said. “We’ve already looked at the most critical views anyway.”
“Then, it’s settled.” Cole headed for the door. “I’ll send you the link for the cameras when we get to the docks.”
Marit nodded. “Sounds good.”
“See you later.” Isabelle followed Cole out the door. Time to find out what Cole knew about the men aboard the Nehalennia.
Chapter 23
Cole still couldn’t believe Jeffrey de Vries was involved. Cole had been tracking the known drug distributor for years, but so far, no one with US intelligence, Interpol, or the Dutch authorities had been able to find proof that he was indeed an integral part of the drug traffic flowing in and out of Europe.
Cole unlocked the rental car and climbed behind the wheel.
Isabelle took her seat and buckled in. She waited until he started the engine before she asked, “Who are they?”
Cole tensed and gave her a sidelong look. Was he really getting this easy to read? First her father had ID’d him as CIA, and now Isabelle could tell when he was holding something back. Maybe it was just Isabelle’s family who could read him. That was a scary thought.
With no reason to hold the information back from her, he said, “My last mission involved capturing Jakub Němek. He’s a drug smuggler based in Prague. One of the men on that boat was one of his known distributors.”
“What about the other one?”
“I don’t know who he is, but we can have his photo run through facial recognition.” Cole pulled out onto the street and turned toward the dock. “I had the local CIA office pull the ownership records for the Nehalennia.”
“And?” Isabelle prompted.
“The owner is Dutch, but I’ve never come across his name before. Kees van Dommelen.”
“Maybe Němek knows who van Dommelen is. He might also know what de Vries is up to.”
“It’s possible, but I doubt he’s sharing that kind of information.” Cole ran a hand over his abdomen where Němek’s knife had come a little too close for comfort. “He was pretty adamant that he was innocent.”
“Was he innocent?”
“Not a chance.”
“You should check the debriefing report,” Isabelle said. “Maybe his interrogators were able to break some new intel loose.”
“It’s worth a try.” He checked the GPS on his phone and made the next turn. “Can you call Jasmine to see if she’ll pull it for us?”
“Sure.” Isabelle dialed the number. “Hey, Jasmine. Sorry to bother you so late.”
“Put her on speaker,” Cole said.
Isabelle did so.
“Hey, Jazz. Are you still at the office?” Cole asked.
“As a matter of fact, I am. I had a late meeting with headquarters,” Jasmine said. “Well, it was afternoon for them, but you know what I mean.”
“I do.” Cole knew all too well how the time difference between the East Coast and Europe could affect his work schedule. “Since you’re there, want to do us a favor?”
“Sometimes I think helping you is my sole purpose in life,” Jasmine said, humor in her voice.
Cole shrugged. “What can I say? It’s not my fault you love me best.”
“Mmm hmm.” Sarcasm dripped from the mumbled syllables. “What do you need this time?”
“The interrogation report on Jakub Němek,” Cole said. “One of his known associates is here in Amsterdam.”
“It looks like he’s involved with the package I redirected,” Isabelle added.
All humor disappeared from Jasmine’s voice. “Who is it?”
“Jeffrey de Vries.”
“We’ve been monitoring all of Němek’s accounts since you picked him up,” Jasmine said. “Best we can tell, his operation is shut down.”
“Someone is still running drugs through Amsterdam.” Cole didn’t need to expand on the implications of what the drug flow through the Netherlands would mean to both Europe and the United States. It was an ideal location to distribute to both continents, and Jasmine knew it.
“A lot of drugs from the looks of it,” Isabelle added.
“Hold on a second.” Jasmine fell silent for a moment. “Here it is. According to Němek, a few former employees broke off and started their own business.”
“And he let them?” Cole asked.
“Not willingly,” Jasmine said. “They disappeared from sight about eighteen months ago, but Němek is convinced that someone else has been undercutting him and even tapping into his sources and distribution networks.”
Cole’s GPS directed him to make the next turn. He did so before he continued the conversation. “That would explain the shooting in Punjab, where two suppliers were killed.”
“Němek was making an example out of them,” Jasmine agreed.
“Or his competitor was,” Isabelle said. “Any idea who these former employees are?”
“According to Němek, it’s Lubomir Dennis, Sahil Kapoor, and Vishnu Devarajah.”
“Dennis was killed in Belarus over a month ago,” Cole said. “For all we know, it could have been Jakub Němek behind it.”
“What do we know about the other two?” Isabelle asked.
“Not a lot. They’re both citizens of India, but we don’t have current addresses for either of them. As far as we can tell, neither has ever held a traditional job, not even Kapoor when he was in college.”
“Where did he go to school?” Cole asked.
“Boston University.”
“So he isn’t stupid,” Isabelle said.
“And he had an outside source of income,” Cole added. “Living in Boston isn’t cheap.”
“When we get back to the apartment, I can dig into his finances,” Isabelle offered. “Maybe I can trace where his funding came from.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll forward you the information I have on him,” Jasmine said. “Where are you anyway?”
“We’re heading out to set up some cameras.” Cole made the final turn toward the docks. “We want to make sure we know when Jeffrey de Vries gets back to port. With any luck, we’ll be able to catch some illegal activity on camera.”
“That would be helpful, but be careful,” Jasmine warned. “We already know these people will kill if anyone gets in their way.”
“We’ll be fine,” Cole promised, even though he would prefer to have Isabelle safely back at Marit’s apartment.
“Make sure you stay fine,” Jasmine said. “We can bring in some local help if you need it.”
“Thanks, Jazz. I’ll let you know if we run into something we can’t handle,” Cole said. “Just send us whatever you’ve got on Jakub Němek and the group that splintered off from him.”
“I will.”
Cole said his goodbyes, and Isabelle ended the call.
“I am so sorry for all this,” Isabelle said, her voice full of remorse. “I never meant to put your cousins in danger.”
“I know you didn’t.” Cole reached over and put his hand on hers briefly before he had to shift gears. Forgiving Isabelle for the situation was easy. Protecting Tess and Lars while trying to find the people behind this mess was another story. “Maybe it’s time to send Tess and Lars on a holiday.”
“What did you have in mind?” Isabelle asked.
“Ideally, I’d like to get them both out of the country,” Cole said. “I don’t want them anywhere near Amsterdam until this threat is neutralized.”
