“Mr. Kairouz, sir,” his secretary said, showing a man in.
“Mr. Kairouz, at long last. I’ve so enjoyed dealing with Captain Braun. I am sorry your own schedule has precluded our meeting.”
The man nodded but looked puzzled. The banker was puzzled as well. His visitor was disheveled, with circles under his eyes and a vacant look.
“Coffee or tea?” Carrington-Smythe asked, waving his guest to a sofa.
“Nothing, thank you. I’m pressed, I’m afraid.”
“Of course,” the banker said, moving the case to the coffee table. “Nasty buggers, these pirates. The Royal Navy should hang the lot, like the old days.”
He opened the case. “Had to be creative to fit it all in, I’m afraid. Dollars, pounds, and bearer bonds.” He offered a paper. “If you’ll verify and sign, we’re done.”
“I’m sure it’s all in order.” Kairouz scrawled his signature.
“But… but… my God, sir, that’s twelve million doll—”
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Kairouz closed the case and rose, hefting it in his left hand and extending his right. “Do forgive my rush, but as I said, I am pressed.”
“Of course,” the banker said. “Is there anything else?”
“No, I… Actually, yes. My phone battery is flat. Could you call a cab?”
“Absolutely. Where to?”
“Heathrow. The private terminal.”
Braun left the B&Q with a long box on his shoulder. He dashed for the terminal, slowing as he reached the gate to wave to a bored guard and get a nod in return. He spotted Farley at the far end of the covered loading dock next to another truck, both backed in with only their fronts visible from above. He crossed the distance and climbed in, motioning Farley to follow him to the back.
“Tape her up so she can’t flail about,” Braun said, tossing Farley a roll of duct tape.
Farley worked quickly, glancing over as Braun opened the box.
“Data Shield — Window Film,” he read aloud. “What the bloody hell is that?”
“This, Farley, will make our guest invisible. Help me wrap her.”
Minutes later, Cassie was encased in a silvery cocoon.
“OK,” Braun said, “when you hear my tap, be ready to carry her to the next truck.”
“But why—”
“JUST DO IT,” Braun said, raising the rear door to exit, then closing it after himself.
He moved into the back of the next truck. The driver was stacking boxes, his back turned. He turned as the van shifted with Braun’s weight and got a bullet in the forehead, the soft pop of the silenced pistol lost in the dock noise. Braun moved boxes to the dock, building a wall behind the two trucks, then tapped the back of his own truck and ripped up the roller door. Farley carried Cassie into the next truck unseen.
Braun looked in, nodding at the dead driver. “Get the keys and be ready.”
“Where are you going?”
Braun smiled. “To arrange a little distraction,” he said and rolled the door down.
The break room was empty, its worn furniture littered with newspaper. Vending machines lined a wall across from a counter holding small appliances. In a corner, Braun found a utility closet with a gas water heater. He moved to the counter and stuffed newspaper into a toaster oven, leaving the oven door ajar before returning to the utility closet. Gas hissed as he unscrewed the connection. He turned the oven on and left.
“Control. This is Chase One. We’re moving again on New Kent Road,” Anna said.
“I copy, Chase One. Target is… wait… no signal, repeat, no signal.”
“Air One,” Anna said, “do you have visual?”
“I can see the front of the truck,” the pilot said. “He hasn’t moved.”
“Control, is your equipment OK?” Anna asked.
“We’re fine, Chase One. The transmitter has been disabled.”
The bastard’s made us, Anna thought. “Lou. Status?”
“A half mile back,” Lou said, “Harry’s on with the police. They’re hamstrung by jams; they need more time to close.”
“Chase One,” the chopper broke in, “movement in the terminal.”
“Braun’s van?” Anna asked.
“Negative. But four others are queuing to leave.”
Braun was taking Cassie, Anna realized, else he would’ve left the signal as a decoy. He was moving, but not his van, and men afoot dragging a girl could hardly escape notice.
“All units,” Anna said, “Cassie’s in one of those trucks.”
“This is Air One. All four are eastbound on New Kent. Whom do I tail?”
“Air One,” Anna said, “they have to take the Great Dover roundabout. That leaves four trucks with three possible exits. Stay over the largest group. Chase Two and I will tail trucks that split off. Keep as many in sight as long as possible to vector in police cars. All units confirm.”
“Understood, Chase One,” the pilot said, doubt in his voice.
“We copy,” Lou said. “Harry’s called a second chopper, and the police are ordering IPS to ring all of their drivers to stop. Even if he slips us, he’ll be the only truck moving.”
“Brilliant, Lou,” Anna said. “I see the back of the last truck ahead of us now.”
“We have you in sight as well,” Lou said. “We’ll get the bastards, Anna.”
Your lips to God’s ears, Anna thought, focusing on the truck ahead.
Farley drove third of four.
“Which way?” he asked.
“One chopper can’t follow us all. We’ll go wherever the others don’t,” Braun said, watching the trucks ahead and glancing in the side mirror at the truck behind.
The lead truck and the last truck moved left as the second truck edged right.
“Good,” Braun said. “Two look to be heading northbound on Great Dover, and the one behind us is going south on Old Kent Road. We’ll take Tower Bridge Road. Odds are the chopper will follow the two northbound trucks. And” — he peered back at the terminal in the side mirror—”we should get a little help right about… now.”
He grinned as flame bloomed behind them, followed by a low rumble.
“We’ve lost them,” Braun said. “Time to dump the truck.”
Farley nodded. “Our closest cutout is in the car park on Saint Thomas.”
“Think, Farley. We stick out like a sore thumb. Duck into the next covered parking. I’ll sit on the girl while you change and take a cab to bring the car from Saint Thomas.”
Farley nodded, and minutes later, was pulling into a space on the second floor of a parking garage. He changed into street clothes. As he left, Braun dialed his phone.
“Mr. Carrington-Smythe, please. Captain Braun calling,” he said.
A moment later, Carrington-Smythe was on the line.
“Good morning,Captain Braun. How may I—”
“Please,” Braun whispered, “you must help me. Has he been there yet?”
“Who? Kairouz? Why yes, some time ago. I did just as you asked.”
“Only under duress. Kairouz threatened my family. Poor Sutton resisted, and the monster shot him and torched the office to cover it. He’s looting the company and fleeing.”
“Good Lord, man! You must go to—”
“I can’t. His goons are watching. Notify the authorities, but please, please, leave my name out of it for the sake of my children. Wait! Someone’s coming. I must—”
Braun hung up, smiling. That should do it.
Chapter Twenty-Six