The Job: A Fox And O'Hare Novel Part 18

"I want the treasure," Violante said.

"I want eighteen million dollars," Nick said.

"You mean seventeen and a half million dollars."

"That was before you damaged my ROV," Nick said.

Violante grimaced as if feeling physical pain, and Nick knew that Violante was checking his temper, resisting the urge to strangle him on the spot.

"I'll want maps, sonar readings, anything and everything I will need to precisely locate the wreck," Violante said. "And I will need those bombs removed."

"Of course. All part of our customer service. I will need the money in cash."

"Do you realize how much cash that is?"

"Enough to fill a bathtub, and that's just what I might do with it."

"It's going to be extremely difficult to gather that much cash quickly and without attracting unwanted attention."

"That's your problem."

"Be reasonable. It would be so much easier, and more discreet, for me to draw the funds from various accounts around the globe and put them directly into your preferred bank account."

"I want cash," Nick said. "It's a deal breaker for me."

Violante narrowed his eyes as best he could, considering his face was stretched as tight as a drum. "Why?"

"The same reason you wanted to stick your hands into the bucket and hold the coins in your fingers. I want something I can hold in my hands, or bathe in, or scatter around my bedroom. I'm not getting the coins, or the s.h.i.+ny gold table, so this is as close as I am going to get to tangible treasure. I need to be able to look at it, to feel it, to admire it. I know you understand." Violante nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"I'll call you a day before I want to meet and give you the details of the transaction."

Nick locked Violante into his cabin with his gold, and went up to the bridge. Willie was at the helm and Boyd was slumped in the captain's chair, watching the activity on deck, and looking generally mopey.

"Congratulations, Nick," Willie said. "That was a great show."

"Thank you. We'll head back to Malaga tonight," Nick said. "Is something wrong, Boyd?"

"I was expecting a larger role in the action. Instead, I've been stuck up here with Willie."

"At least you could leave," Willie said. "I can't. I have to drive the boat. I've been a captive audience. Do you think it's a joy having to listen to you blather on all day about your fictional life at sea while you hobble around the bridge, b.u.mping into things?"

"I've made an effort to stay in character, to add depth and color to my performance, not that it was put to much use."

"It's true you had a supporting part, and not the lead, but you were perfect," Nick said. "You exuded authority and were the key player in establis.h.i.+ng the realism of our charade. Violante was utterly convinced by your character. Besides, you still have another role to play before this con is over."

"Is it a juicy part?"

"It's pivotal."

Nick's cellphone rang, and he knew from the ringtone that it was Jake calling. He was surprised when he heard Kate's voice at the other end.

"I'm poolside at the Marbella Club drinking sangrias and working on my tan," Kate said.

"Nice. I'm a.s.suming the hostage thing didn't work out for you."

"Reyna's hostess skills leave a lot to be desired. Dad showed up at just the right time last night and took a chocolate for me."

"Don't you mean a bullet?"

"Reyna laced the chocolates in my room with knockout drops and Dad ate one. I returned the favor and left Reyna tied to the bedposts. I loaded Dad into the secret elevator, and here we are, leading the good life."

"What was your weapon of choice?"

"Frying pan."

"Nice to know you have a domestic side," Nick said. "Did Reyna see your father?"

"Nope," Kate said. "She was unconscious when we left, and I sent the elevator back up to the closet so it wouldn't be immediately obvious how I escaped."

"Then we're fine," he said. "We'll express our anger at your treatment by jacking up the price by two million dollars."

"Violante isn't going to be happy about any of this," Kate said.

"No, but he has no leverage. We have the gold. He's seen it, and now he wants it. So he'll apologize, pay the extra money with a smile, and plan on getting his retribution later."

It was midafternoon before one of Violante's guards began to wonder exactly what was going on in the guesthouse and was brave enough to ignore the AK-47 by the front door. He found Reyna Socorro tied up spread-eagle on the king-size bed with a gag in her mouth. He untied her, and as soon as circulation returned to her hands, she broke his neck.

As much as she appreciated being found after sixteen hours, she couldn't let anyone live who'd seen her subjugated and powerless. If she had, she would certainly have lost whatever authority she had over her men. He had to die, but she knew it wasn't fair and offered her sincere apology to his corpse.

She inspected the guesthouse for possible avenues of escape and finally reached the conclusion that Kate had gone out the front door and somehow eluded the guard. He'd probably been asleep on the job and deserved to die, Reyna thought. She a.s.sembled her security force and told them to search the compound. She returned to the guesthouse and reconsidered the closet. If somehow Kate had discovered the secret elevator, she was long gone. Probably in London by now. The elevator simply looked like a closet. Hard to believe Kate was resourceful enough to realize that the closet was an elevator and rotate the coat hook.

Reyna reached for a chocolate and instantly s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand back. She'd already lost half a day. She didn't need to drug herself and lose more time. The Hartley b.i.t.c.h was most likely hiding on the property somewhere, and when she was found she'd pay dearly.

Reyna's equipment was still spread out on the bed, including the throwaway cellphone that connected her to Nick Hartley. A feeling of dread swept over her when the phone rang. She thought Nick was most likely calling in a ransom demand, and she'd lost her hostage. Not good. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps the smartest thing she could do, for her own survival, was to take whatever cash she could from the house, make a run for it now, and hope that she could hide from Violante, if he lived, or from the Menendez cartel, if he didn't.

She took a beat to compose herself and answered the call.

"We're going to be returning to port around eight A.M. tomorrow morning," Hartley said, his tone upbeat and jovial. "I suggest that you and Kate get there early, just so Mr. Violante isn't kept waiting if we arrive ahead of schedule, but that's entirely up to you. It's a suggestion, not a demand."

Reyna was confused. Hartley wasn't asking for ransom, and he didn't seem to know that his wife had escaped.

"We'll be there," Reyna said.

"Can I speak to Kate?"

"I don't know where she is right now," Reyna said. "It's a big property, and she has the run of it."

"No problem," Hartley said. "I'll see you both tomorrow morning."

Reyna disconnected and flipped the phone back onto the bed. When her men finished searching the compound she'd send them to search the brush at the bottom of the gorge. With any luck the Hartley woman was down on the rocks with her head burst open like a water balloon.

Two black Range Rovers, the Mercedes, and Violante's security team were already on the dock when the s.h.i.+p arrived. Violante lugged his bucket of gold coins and salt water down the gangway to meet Reyna, who was waiting for them at the bottom.

Violante could tell right away that something was wrong. Reyna had her AK-47 slung over her shoulder, the guards were tense, and Kate Hartley was nowhere to be seen.

He could only draw one horrible conclusion. Reyna had ignored his orders and tortured Kate, probably to death.

Reyna met his icy gaze. "How was your trip?"

"Excellent," Violante said. "I saw the wreck and brought back some coins. Nick will be calling us with payment details."

"I'm glad to hear that," Reyna said. "We'll do whatever we can to make the transaction as smooth as possible."

"Where's my wife?" Hartley asked.

"Good question," Reyna said. "She seems to have vanished."

Hartley glanced back at the s.h.i.+p where the captain and three other members of the crew were on deck, shouldering rifles.

"Vanished?" Nick asked. "Do you want to clarify that?"

A taxi drove down the wharf and came to a stop behind the Mercedes. Kate got out of the taxi, carrying shopping bags from Escada and Gucci.

"Reyna told us you vanished," Nick said to his wife.

"I did," Kate said, setting her bags on the pavement. "I vanished after Reyna sneaked into my room with her torture kit. Fortunately, I was in the kitchen and not in bed as she expected." Kate smiled, obviously pleased with herself. "I hit her with a frying pan!"

"Good for you," Nick said, equally pleased. "Now if you could just learn how to cook with one."

"I wish you'd get on with it," Rodney Smoot said into Nick's earbud. "This rifle's getting heavy."

Nick turned his attention back to Violante.

"Before you do anything else stupid," Nick said to Violante, "let me remind you that the s.h.i.+pwreck is rigged with explosives and if anything happens to me or my wife, my crew will destroy the treasure. All the captain has to do is press a b.u.t.ton."

"Nothing is going to happen," Violante said. "Everybody stay calm. We can work this out amicably."

"She had a filet knife and pliers!" Kate said.

"Reyna is very loyal to me," Violante said. "I rescued her from a culture where violence is a way of life. It's all she knows, and I have been trying to change that. But she was convinced that I was being tricked, that you were kidnapping me, and she expressed her admirable concern for my life. She only wanted to be sure that I was safe."

"Twenty-five million," Kate said. "That's the new price. I'm going to need therapy after this experience."

It was an outrageous demand, but Violante was relieved to hear it. It meant the deal wasn't dead. And it also meant he'd been right that their greed trumped everything. She wanted his money as much as he wanted their gold.

"Twenty-five in cash. It's nonnegotiable," Kate said. "Take it or leave it."

Nick nodded his agreement. "Twenty-five in cash."

"Done," Violante said without hesitation.

"You have three days to get the cash together," Nick said. "We'll be in touch."

"You violated my orders and nearly jeopardized everything," Violante said to Reyna as they sat side by side in the backseat of the car on their way to Marbella. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"I'm the one who does your killing."

"I can get someone else to kill you. There are lots of people who would love to kill you. I wouldn't even have to pay them."

"The Hartleys aren't what they seem."

"Neither are we. What matters is that they came offering to sell the location of a magnificent treasure. I've seen the treasure and I've got a bucket of it. So as far as I'm concerned, they are playing straight with me, whoever they are," Violante said. "The only reason you're still alive is because we haven't lost the deal."

And because he had no one he trusted to take her place.

"That was fun, making them sweat," Kate said to Nick as they reached the s.h.i.+p's deck.

"And we got to stick them for a few million dollars more, which is something I always like to do." He looked at the bags Kate was carrying. "Looks like you're already spending our money."

"I didn't have any fancy-hotel-worthy clothes," Kate said. "I left the tags on and kept the receipts so I can return everything when we get to Lisbon."

"We're not going back to Lisbon. We'd be under constant surveillance there by Alves or Violante's people from the moment we docked. You're leaving us here and flying to London while the rest of us go to Tangier and split up there."

"Makes sense," Kate said. "What happens to the s.h.i.+p?"

"Billy Dee will sell it for us in return for a generous commission. The s.h.i.+p will be renamed, reflagged, and back out to sea in a couple weeks."

"And what happens to the money you get from selling the boat?"

"It goes back into our slush fund for illegal derring-do," Nick said. "Where's Jake?"

Kate gestured to the dock. "Dad was covering us from beside one of the warehouses on the waterfront."

Nick looked toward the warehouses and saw Jake walking toward the s.h.i.+p, a rocket-propelled grenade launcher slung over his shoulder.

"When did he pick that up?" Nick asked.

"Before he came to visit me in Marbella. He knows arms dealers everywhere and doesn't feel secure without a few explosives handy. If things had gone south here today, he would have blown up the two Range Rovers, and I would have opened up with the Uzi I'm carrying in my Gucci bag."

"It's so important to accessorize correctly," Nick said.

Kate called Jessup as soon as she got to London and settled into her small room at the Radisson Suss.e.x.

"The intel has already started streaming in from Menendez's computer," Jessup said. "He's gathering the cash to pay Nick and, in the process, he's leading us to all his offsh.o.r.e accounts. We're talking hundreds of millions of dollars. But that's not the best part. We're getting a real-time overview of his entire global operation and international smuggling routes."

"You can't act on any of that until we have him in custody or you'll spook him. I'd like you to call Scotland Yard. Tell them I've just arrived in heated pursuit of two international fugitives and that the FBI requests their immediate tactical a.s.sistance to arrest them and prevent a major crime from occurring in London."

"So much for staying below the radar," Jessup said. "Are you actually arresting any fugitives in London?"