his crew-cut white hair. His fairness hinted at a Scandinavian descent. He was burly, tall, about six foot three but still three inches shy of Nolan. From the bulge under the bloke’s tweed sport jacket, Nolan suspected a concealed weapon. Nolan hadn’t wanted to suffer yards of red tape to bring his own Ruger revolver into South Africa, but he wasn’t completely helpless. He had his fists and a T-shaped push knife hidden in his belt buckle.
Nolan quickly stood. He’d made a lot of enemies ferreting out terrorists. It was the main reason he’d left England. At least two terrorist organizations had a price on his head. Was this bloke an assassin? An alarm went off on his watch. Exactly 10:00 hours. He had two hours before his interview at Pincer. Enough time to deal with Viking. With a flick of his finger, he snapped the alarm off.
He handed the porter a five-pound note and spoke to him in Afrikaans, or “Cape Dutch,” a West Germanic language spoken mainly in Cape Town. “Praat U Engels?”
The porter nodded. “Ja.”
He switched to English. “Be a good chap and get me a taxi.”
The line of taxis, ten cars deep, stretched along the walkway, comprised of every make and model of car, mostly older models. He even saw an ancient Checker Cab; thoughts of London and home stabbed him. He missed his parents until there was an ache in his chest. But he couldn’t contact his family and put them in danger. No, he was on his own.
The porter blew a whistle and motioned toward the taxi at the front of the line. The taxi sped forward. Another cab pulled out from the back of the line and floored it. The taxis raced toward him, headlights to headlights. The driver on the left overtook the one on the right, cutting him off, almost colliding. Brakes screeched as the winner stopped at the curb in front of him.
The loser shook his fist at the winner and yelled an expletive in Afrikaans. Taxi wars amused Nolan. Capitalism at work.
He waited until the porter threw his suitcase in the trunk, then slid inside, his knees touching the front seat.
The Crown Victoria smelled of stale cigarettes, body odor and filth. He leaned forward to speak to the driver, a small man with dreadlocks. “Praat U Engels?”
The driver bobbed his head. “Ya, boss.”
“Excellent. There’s a big chap in a tweed sport coat in front of us—don’t look. He’s getting into a black Taurus sedan in the valet area. He’s been following me. You’ll get a twenty-pound tip if you lose him.”
“Ya, boss, lose him.” The man nodded, whipped the taxi out into the flow of traffic.
Nolan memorized the license plate number: 1267PR as they passed the Taurus.
The taxi driver zipped around a double-parked bus, taking his tip seriously.
Nolan kept the Taurus in view as it sped up, and Viking bullied his way into the traffic behind them. The sporting part of him, the part that enjoyed a good game of rugby, made Nolan grin.
Jijiga, Ethiopia
“Hello, Lucy,” an electronically altered voice said.
She hadn’t expected the disguised voice and it raised her suspicion. “Look, if this is some game you’re playing—”
“For safety reasons I protect my identity. I assure you I want to hire you. We are working on the same side.”
“Convince me. Name a person on your side.”
“Lucy, this is Allison Gracelyn speaking. This is a conference call.”
“Allison?” Lucy knew Allison Gracelyn. She was the daughter of Marion Gracelyn, the founder of the Athena Academy. Allison was a fellow Athena alumna and a consultant to the board of directors. Lucy trusted Allison.
“It’s me. Delphi thought you might need some convincing, so I was allowed to participate in this briefing.”
Yep, that was Allison’s voice. It was all the convincing Lucy needed. “Okay, I’m in.”
Delphi’s creepy altered voice said, “You probably know that House Representative Bryan Ellis is under arrest for fraud and attempted murder of Athena alum Francesca Thorne.”
“I heard about it on the news.” When Lucy had seen the report that Ellis had tried to kill Francesca, she had wondered why. The report hadn’t gone into much detail. “Why did he try to kill her?”
“She was instrumental in his arrest.”
“Oh.”
“What you probably don’t know is that fellow Athena grad Nikki Bustillo recently captured a computer hacker, Martin Slobojvic, a Kestonian wanted in a dozen countries for corporate espionage and spying. We found out he’s been working for Bryan Ellis—”
“In what capacity?”
“Someone was blackmailing Ellis, and Slobojvic was helping him track the blackmailer. Slobojvic traced the blackmailer through the regular electronic fund transfers taken from Ellis’s account. With Slobojvic’s help, we’ve tracked the blackmailer’s trail to a safety deposit box in a Swiss bank. We believe the blackmailer has a home base near Cape Town and has been conducting business through this bank. You are to retrieve any records within the box and the name behind the account.”
Lucy suspected she wasn’t getting the whole briefing and she waited, silence stretching between them on the line. She listened to Allison clear her throat, then Delphi’s hesitant breaths as if what was about to be said was highly classified.
Finally the altered voice said, “You should know this international blackmailer has been on all U.S. intel-gathering agencies’ radars for years. In Russia she’s known as Madame Web. Weaver, Spider, Webcrawler and Arachne are just a few of her other personas. Not only the U.S. but nations across the globe have a price on her head. She’s managed to avoid capture by staying one step ahead of us. We’re certain her wealth figures into the equation.”
“Like how wealthy are we talking?”
“Billions.”
“Jeez, that’s a lot of extortion.” Lucy couldn’t imagine the number of lives this blackmailer had destroyed.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“So you believe Arachne is behind these kidnappings and threats to Athena grads.” Lucy watched two young boys riding a camel pass her on the road.
“Yes, and we’re trying to locate her before she strikes again. All the information you need, as well as your fee, is being forwarded to you by courier and will arrive at a safe house in Cape Town. Proceed there and wait for the courier. You can rendezvous with your team there as well. The house’s address will be texted to you, along with the keypad entry code.”
“Fine.”
“And Lucy, Arachne is, above all, a killer. If she’s cornered, your life, as well as your team’s lives, could be in the balance. Be careful.”
“I will.”
“Keep me posted on your progress at [email protected].”
Click.
