She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Listen, we have the money, but we don’t have the time. Jasmine is out there right now, praying that we’re doing everything in our power to find her. This guy can help. Trust me on that. And even if I’m wrong, shouldn’t we at least give it a shot? Don’t we owe her that much?’
Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.
Cobb turned to Garcia. ‘Hector, change of plans. Forget about Manjani for now. Focus your efforts on Jasmine and the Muharib — nothing else. You should have all of Simon’s surveillance footage from the city by later tonight. I need you to work through every frame. The camera doesn’t lie, so find out how the kidnappers disappeared.’
Papineau, who had gone to his room to fetch a map, returned and handed it to Cobb. ‘I marked the location of Manjani’s expedition, as you requested.’
Cobb looked into Papineau’s bleary eyes. He could see that he was running on fumes. ‘Jean-Marc, why don’t you get some sleep? You look exhausted. Hector will wake you in a few hours and fill you in on everything he’s learned about the Muharib. Until then, you’re not going to do us any good in your current state.’
Papineau nodded. ‘You’re probably right. And Jack — sorry about before. My behavior was totally unprofessional.’
‘Compared to whose? McNutt’s?’ Cobb said with a laugh. ‘No need to apologize for emotions. Stress gets the best of all of us from time to time. It lets us know you care.’
McNutt hustled over at the sound of his name. ‘Did you call me, chief?’
‘I didn’t, but I was about to.’
‘Wait,’ he said, confused. ‘I heard my name before you said it? How cool is that? I wonder if the blast made me psychic?’
‘I see your point,’ Papineau said as he excused himself from the conversation. ‘There’s no way I was worse than that.’
Cobb smiled. ‘Anything new on the Semtex?’
‘Nope,’ McNutt answered.
‘In that case, I’m giving you a new assignment. I know we’ve got a clear line of sight in all directions on the water, but it doesn’t mean I feel safe. I need you to make sure we can defend ourselves. Keep an eye on the radar, and make sure Hector and Jean-Marc know how to use whatever arsenal you’ve brought aboard. I don’t want the boat getting overrun just because we don’t know where to find the missiles.’
McNutt leaned in. ‘How do you know about the missiles?’
‘How? Because they’re in a crate marked “missiles”.’
‘Oops. My bad.’
‘Anyway, please make sure the ship is secure.’
‘Aye-aye, skipper.’
McNutt turned and headed for the door. He was halfway there when he stopped and turned back. ‘What about the two of you?’
Cobb glanced at Sarah, then McNutt. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You asked me to train Hector and Jean-Marc on our arsenal. Does that mean you’re leaving me alone with them?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Is this because of the bloodhound?’
‘Maybe,’ Cobb repeated. ‘If he can help.’
‘Chief,’ he said timidly, ‘may I speak freely on the subject?’
Cobb raised his eyebrows. ‘You may.’
‘I’m confused about something. If this hound is so damn good at finding people, why do we care about Manjani? Why don’t we hire him to find Jasmine?’
Although Sarah loved making fun of McNutt for his near-constant state of confusion, this was one of the rare times when it was justified. ‘May I?’
Cobb nodded. ‘Be my guest.’
‘Josh,’ she explained, ‘it’s a completely different kind of search. In Jasmine’s case, she’s been taken. That means looking at surveillance tapes for the smallest of clues, and trying to figure out who targeted her and why. Meanwhile, Manjani is hiding. He’s trying to stay off the grid, but there’s always a chance that he slipped up and made a mistake. We need someone who can find the digital footprints that he’s left behind and verify any rumors. With all due respect to Hector, we need someone with a vast network of contacts and a proven track record of success.’
McNutt nodded in understanding. ‘When you put it like that, it makes perfect sense.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Can I ask you one more question?’
‘Sure.’
‘Is your contact Bryan Mills?’
Sarah laughed. She had recently seen the movie Taken and knew ‘Bryan Mills’ was the name of the character played by Liam Neeson. ‘Unfortunately, no, but my asset is also blessed with a very particular set of skills.’
McNutt grinned. ‘Awesome.’
Meanwhile, Cobb was completely lost by the reference. ‘While you two chat about Bryan Mills — whoever the hell that is — I’ve got a source of my own to call. And trust me, he possesses a very particular set of skills as well.’
53
In less than a minute, Petr Ulster would have his answer. Every action he had taken thus far had been leading to this moment. Soon he would know if the meticulous planning and preparation had ultimately led to success — or if he was doomed to fail yet again.
Like an expectant father in the waiting room, he leaned closer to the window, desperately searching for the slightest sign that everything was okay. He knew to keep his distance, but the anticipation was almost more than he could stand. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face as he stared at the clock, watching the seconds tick down.
Finally, the buzzer sounded.
The moment of truth had arrived.
Ulster lowered the oven door and peered inside. So far, everything was perfect. He slowly wrapped his gloved hands around the tiny crock, careful not to dip his fingers into the scalding liquid below. He held his breath as he gently lifted the bowl from the water. And then, without warning, his miniature soufflé collapsed.
Ulster sighed in frustration.
He dropped the bowl back into the water bath of the baking dish and yanked the entire assembly from the oven. As he turned toward the island of his expansive kitchen, he realized that he was quickly running out of space.
The counters were littered with soufflés in various states of disrepair. What had started early that morning as a craving for a tangy lemon treat had quickly turned into a culinary challenge of epic proportions. When he had run out of lemons, Ulster had switched to salmon as it was then his fourth hour of battle and a savory lunch seemed more appropriate. As night fell, he had switched yet again, this time preferring the fine Swiss chocolate of his homeland.
Yet no matter how hard he tried, the soufflés would not stand.
An entire day of laboring, and he had yet to taste victory.
Ulster laughed at the sight, knowing that he had a busy night ahead of him if we were to have the kitchen cleaned by the time his personal chef returned from his day off.
As he switched off his oven and conceded defeat, he felt the vibration of his cell phone from somewhere deep inside the pocket of his apron. Twisting to retrieve it, his sizeable girth strained against the tightly wrapped fabric. He suddenly felt as if he were bound by the casing of his favorite Polish sausage.
When he finally reached his phone, Ulster was surprised by the blocked number on his caller ID. His private line was unlisted, and he had taken great pains to guard against its dissemination. With that in mind, he decided to play a hunch.
‘Jonathon?’ he guessed.
‘No, this is Jack Cobb. We met in Geneva about a month ago.’
‘Of course! We had dinner at the Beau-Rivage.’ Some people used mnemonic devices to recall people and places, but Ulster remembered meals. ‘You had just returned from the mountains, if memory serves. Something about a train?’