“Bravo, bravo!” the director said, clapping and grinning. “If you’re trying to make me kill you, Mr. Evers, you’re on the right track, but I would prefer to talk, to resolve this situation before something even worse happens.”
Scott started to squeeze the trigger.
“Don’t, Scott,” Edie said. “I think we should listen to what he has to say.”
Chapter 15
The sound of the girl’s voice made the director think of times long since gone. Landing at the abandoned airfield to unload his men and equipment had been necessary due to airspace restrictions around Malta International, but he never expected his chartered helicopter to have mechanical difficulties afterward.
It all seemed some kind of karmic justice for everything he’d done, until the moment he realized things were about to finally turn in his favor. The moment, when against all odds, Scott Evers swerved to the side of the road, got out of a white fiat, and walked right in front of the location where his men were setting up opposite the northeast end of the main runway.
Initially, the director was in a panic. He thought they were after Mila, but he soon realized they were after the helicopter Mila was forced into chartering at gunpoint. At that moment, it was like God himself giftwrapped Evers and put a bow around his neck.
The sinner in him was almost repentant for a lifetime of dishonesty and lying for a living. Almost.
Into the silence, he finally said, “I think you should listen to the lady, Mr. Evers.”
Evers lowered his gun. “I assume you don’t want to keep standing out here in the open as human targets either?”
The director agreed, continuing to stand out in the open with guns wasn’t a good idea. They were outside the airport’s restricted zone, covered by the sound of engines from planes and cars, and shielded by several buildings, but there was no sense tempting fate.
He signaled by swirling a finger in the air. Moments later a long black limo raced onto the heliport with Harry “Hark” Watkins at the wheel and Charles “Dutch” Adams in the front passenger seat. Both men got out to open the rear doors of the limo.
“Get in, Mr. Evers,” the director said. Smiling and tipping his head to the girl, he added, “You too.”
Evers nodded to the girl, who got in first, and then he slid in behind her. The director got in after Mila and sat beside her. The pilot who thought he was getting off lucky, was stuffed into the trunk by Hark, who then got in and drove away.
“First,” Evers said. “I have to know what your plans are. Do you intend to kill the pilot? I recognize well trained men when I see them. What is your sniper planning to do?”
The director, seated backward, facing Scott, smiled. “Nothing will happen to the pilot, but it’s not like I can just let him go until all this is resolved.” He paused. “What the sniper does depends on what else happens today. Trust me when I say no one who doesn’t deserve to die will die. We have to contain this, however, and I think you’ll agree on that point at the least.” He readied three cups in the limo’s bar, used a pair of tongs to drop two cubes of ice into each, and then reached out toward the bottles. “What are you drinking?”
“I’m not,” Evers said, “but you go right ahead.”
The director turned to the girl.
“Scotch,” she said.
He poured hers and then gave himself an equal measure. To Evers, he said as he poured Scotch into a third glass, “I really think you should reconsider. This single malt is a rare stock and you’re going to want a drink after you hear what I have to tell you.”
Evers waved the glass away.
“Suit yourself,” the director said, raising his glass. “Salute!”
The girl clinked her glass to his and returned his toast. “Salute!”
Her eagerness only made him distrust her more. Evers, on the other hand, seemed to be someone who spoke his mind. “Where to begin?” He tried to explain about the job. The job that was a contract on a man’s life. “It was business, nothing personal,” he said finishing, “and as I told you, yesterday’s business. Today, we need to work together to correct a terrible wrong.”
Before Evers could reply, he repeated what he said earlier about being betrayed and not knowing what was going to happen. “I should have known, but I didn’t. My operative, Alexis, is very good at what she does. The best, in fact.”
Evers didn’t seem to like what he was hearing. He repositioned the gun in his lap. “How does Peyton Jones fit into this?”
The director lied for a living, but didn’t want to lie about this. “She was brought in to clean up. You first and then Alexis. Obviously, even though she told me to the contrary, you’re not dead are you? Well, they both told me things that were contrary to fact. I don’t know what’s between them, but I’ve learned a few things.” He handed Evers a stack of manila folders. “Their dossiers, yours. Everything I have on this operation and everything my team has learned over the past few hours.”
Evers split the stack with the girl, pulling his dossier to the top and reading it first. “Who hired you to kill me?”
The director matched the irrefutable purpose in the dark eyes regarding him with unquestionable intent. “That’s one of the few things I’m not at liberty so say.” He tried to explain about the three rules that were the cornerstones of his business, wasn’t sure if Evers really understood. “Suffice to say, I consider the contract null and void. To put your mind at ease, I can assure you I would not take a future contract either.” He paused, tipped back his drink and drank to the bottom of the glass. “You’re too much trouble.”
Evers grinned, his eyes flashing to the girl’s.
“She’s safe,” the director said. “I can assure you no one who works for me was targeting her. You were our focus.”
Evers wrung his hands. “That’s somewhat reassuring, but you still haven’t told me what the hell’s going on?”
“I can assure you, Mr. Evers, I’m trying to figure that out and that’s where I need your help.” His fingers steepled beneath his chin. “Do you know how many men have ever sat where you’re sitting? Figuratively, not literally, mind you. I’ve been in this business a long time, a very long time, and I can assure you no other has ever sat where you’re sitting. To say that you are in a unique position, Mr. Evers, is a severe understatement of the facts.”
“I’m listening,” Evers said.
The director’s face contorted in a grimace. “You’ve heard of the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting, have you not? World leaders — prime ministers, presidents, diplomats — from more than 50 countries who collectively represent a third of the planet. Did you know they’re all gathered here, in Malta, at this very moment? What do you think would happen to the free world if they all met their end today? What would you do to prevent that? Assuming you care, I wouldn’t want to presume.”
Chapter 16
Scott paced back and forth in the cramped security office at Malta International, the parting expression on the director’s face haunting his every step. The question had been simple enough: “Why me?” The answer wasn’t simple at all.
He tapped the manila folders gripped in his one good hand against the tabletop, then pressed them into his head. Squeezing his eyes together to block out everything didn’t help his focus, but it should have. The problem was that everything seemed to be spiraling out of control.