The first time Paulino had tried the trick, the authorities nearly nabbed him, figuring out that there was no way an orphanage was using the Internet that much. The nuns must have been beyond confused at the accusations. Paulino allowed himself a short laugh at the thought.
Most of the time, his software hacked its way through people’s accounts, bringing in a whopping quarter million in euros every single year. He stole enough to live comfortably, but never so much that he would get caught. Of course, like any intelligent businessman, he liked to diversify his sources of income. Black market surveillance with a sprinkle of murder always paid well. On top of that, it kept him from getting bored. Sitting in front of the computer for hours on end took its toll on his interest level. Getting out and killing someone every now and then did wonders for his energy.
The call from one of his regulars had been an extremely profitable one. Over the course of the next few hours, he was going to make a lot of money, more than he would make in the next three months combined.
Teo had always been generous with his payments. As a result, their relationship had been a good one. Bourdon paid; Paulino delivered. It was simple enough. And Bourdon never asked what Paulino’s last name was, or even if it was his real name. He didn’t care as long as the job was done, which it always was.
“So you want me to kill them both?” he’d asked Bourdon during the phone conversation.
“No. Not this time. I need them alive. They have something my employer wants very badly. You have to make certain that this piece is not damaged in any way.”
Based on the previous assignments Bourdon had given, it was an odd request, but no killing might make it easier this time around, though less interesting. “What does this object look like?”
“We don’t know.”
Paulino let out a short laugh. He crossed one leg over the other and rested his elbow on top of his knee. “Then how will I know what not to damage?”
“Just follow them, Paulino. This is a watch-and-follow job. You won’t need to do anything except tell us where the marks are going. We will take care of the rest.”
That did sound boring.
Before the Italian could protest, Bourdon added another bit of information. “You may have to sneak onto their private plane. It’s parked at the airport right now, but if they decide to go somewhere, you’ll need to go as well.”
The last part caused Paulino to frown. “That could add significantly to my costs. What happens if these marks fly to India or South America?”
“They won’t. Our hunch is that they will stay in the Mediterranean area.”
“And what gives you that hunch?” Paulino asked suspiciously.
“Because the artifact they are looking for is hidden somewhere in that vicinity.”
Paulino had thought silently for a few seconds before making an offer. “I’ll do it for twenty-five thousand, but it’s only that much because I could end up in the middle of nowhere.”
Bourdon didn’t respond immediately to the proposal. The Italian thought that maybe the amount had come off as greedy. With all the different unknowns in play, though, he considered it a fair amount. If his client wanted to pay less, he would simply turn it down.
“Sorry, old friend. I don’t think you understand who I am working with.” Before Paulino could decline the job, Bourdon continued talking. “You’ll receive a hundred for this one.”
The Italian’s eyes grew wide. Had he heard right? A hundred thousand euros for a watch-and-follow job? “When do I start?”
“Right now. The two men are staying at a hotel in the city. They’ll be heading back there now. Their names are Thomas Schultz and Sean Wyatt. Wyatt is a former American agent, so he will be on the lookout for anyone suspicious. We received word this morning that two of my employer’s paid associates were found handcuffed and beaten in a park in the mountains.”
Paulino nodded. “Understood. Blend in. Stay back…” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Wait, how am I supposed to get on a private plane with these guys if I have to keep my distance?”
“That’s why I pay you. I’m sending you the address right now, along with some images of the marks. I expect to hear from you soon.”
The text message had come through almost immediately after Bourdon had ended the conversation. Paulino intensely examined the images of the two men. They would be easy enough to find. He looked at the address and the name of the hotel. Bourdon had even provided the room numbers. He could be there in under twenty minutes, depending on the traffic.
Paulino checked his watch. It seemed like most people didn’t wear watches anymore, electing instead to simply check the time on their phones or tablets. It was one of the few old-fashioned things he clung to in a life that had become deeply embedded in the digital age. Local time was still early. Even though he’d been working through the dark hours of the morning, Paulino wasn’t about to let a hundred grand get away from him. He got up out of his chair and wandered through the clutter to the refrigerator, tucked away in the corner of his tiny kitchen. It contained only a carton of milk, a few bottles 0f Peroni beer, a box of takeout from two days ago, and ten energy drinks. He pulled out one of the cans and popped it open, guzzling half of the contents in a matter of seconds. He lowered the can and sighed with relief.
The men he was to follow would probably be getting up soon. He would need to hurry.
Paulino stepped over to the round nook table at the edge of his kitchen. It was littered with wires, motherboards, compact discs, papers, and a cigar box. He picked up the box and set it closer to where he was standing. Opening it, he fingered through several passports, driver’s licenses, and six thick stacks of euros. In his business, having other identities was of the utmost importance. While most people working in the underworld had a fake ID or two, few of them went the extra mile to create backstories for each one.
He selected a passport from Slovenia, flipped it open, and stared at the image. For this one he’d decided to be an advertising agent. He had business cards to go with the name and had even created a website, social media profiles, and outsourced online content to make his identity seem more like a real person. If any security pulled him in for questioning, say, in an airport, he could prove who he was and what he did beyond simply providing them with a fake passport.
Details were high on Paulino’s priority list. It was how he’d evaded trouble with the authorities all along.
He slid the passport into his back pocket and a wad of the money into a front pocket. If he was going to play the part of a high-end executive, he’d need to put on a different shirt, probably something with a tie.
A few minutes later, Paulino looked like a completely different person. He’d thrown on a white button-up shirt with a black tie and matching black jacket that went with his designer jeans. The fake, wire-frame glasses added to the imagery of a young, wealthy executive. On his way out the door, he picked up the Walther .22 pistol off the table, along with the sound suppressor lying next to it. Even though it was an observational mission, Paulino preferred to always be prepared.
Chapter 38
A thin line of sunlight poured across Sean’s face from the window on the other side of the room. He groaned at the brightness filling his eyes.