Ollie said, “Hopefully people will think the blood on your shirt is a design.”
Christoph shoved his knife into its sheath. He was in no mood to listen to his partner. He wanted blood for blood.
They had a brief discussion about who was going to drive. Christoph wasn’t interested in debate. Finally he said, “I’m driving,” and pushed past Ollie.
The two Dutchmen got into the car and scanned the sidewalks for Bennett and the girl as they drove. It was early evening and there weren’t that many people on the street.
Eventually Ollie pulled out his phone and dialed Henry. He put the phone on speaker, in case Christoph wanted to add anything.
Henry answered the phone with an impatient “What now?”
Ollie started with the touchy subject first. “Your girlfriend attacked Christoph and helped Bennett escape.”
After a long silence, Henry said, “Is Natalie still here, or are they both missing?”
“They both fled.”
“Are you certain Natalie helped him?”
“Absolutely. She hit Christoph with a board and shattered his nose.”
“Her phone is still here. Too bad. That would’ve made finding her much easier.”
Ollie said, “Sorry, Henry.”
“I’m really disappointed in you two.”
Ollie said, “So are our families.”
“Always with the smart answer.”
Ollie let the silence hang there for a moment, then said, “We’ll keep searching and let you know if we find them.”
“Let me see what I can do on this end. I’ll call out some more help since you two morons can’t seem to handle anything yourselves. If I hear anything, I’ll send you to their location.”
Ollie cut off the call. “He sounds pissed.”
Christoph said, “He always sounds pissed. That’s how crazy people sound.”
“Exactly why I’m not sure we should even waste time looking for Bennett and Natalie.”
“What? Have you lost your mind as well? Look what they did to me.”
Ollie thought for a moment. “This is still business. We need profit, not problems.”
“Then I’ll finish this alone.”
“Wait—”
“No, I’m serious. This has to get done.”
Ollie said, “All right, we’ll finish this, but then we walk away from Henry. This is getting to be a pain. I don’t care how well he pays. You get your revenge, we collect our pay and head straight back to Amsterdam.”
Christoph smiled. That’s all he wanted. A chance for some revenge.
Chapter 80
Without a soul noticing, Natalie and I had slipped back upstairs in the building to what seemed like an empty ground floor and out the front entrance. Then we ran, trying to stay off the main roads. Neither of us was hurt. Natalie squinted at the street signs, and I remembered that Christoph had knocked her glasses off.
“You can still find your way around town, right?” It went without saying that I was a tourist. Most of my travels around this town had been out to St. Laszlo’s with Fiore driving and on the floor in the back of Christoph and Ollie’s car where I couldn’t see anything.
As we trotted down an alley, I said, “Do you have any money? Anything we can use to get a ride?”
“I have a few euros, that’s it.”
“I don’t know if that’s going to help us much.” I found the euro coins in my pocket that I’d told Christoph about, which I doubted amounted to enough for a cab.
When Natalie stood on a street corner, looking for an approaching bus, I snapped at her. “Keep off the street. They’ll be looking for us.”
Natalie turned and frowned at me. “Sorry, I’ve never been on the run before. How about cutting me a little slack?” After a few moments, she said, “Where are we running to, anyway?”
“Do you know St. Laszlo’s Church?”
“Yeah, but it’s on the other side of the city. The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral is nicer and a lot closer.”
“I’m not going there for mass. I know someone at St. Laszlo’s who can help us.”
Natalie led me through an alley and then over a few blocks, where we caught a bus. We transferred after a few minutes. The second bus seemed to stop every two blocks.
Natalie said, “I could walk faster than this.”
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you at St. Laszlo’s.” I was done with whining. As long as we were moving and on the bus, we were relatively safe. I would gladly ride it all night long.
About forty minutes later, I recognized the neighborhood and soon saw the lighted cupolas of the Orthodox church. I hoped we weren’t too late to catch Father Marty at the office.
When I raced into the building, Natalie followed me through the door. Almost immediately, we ran into Father Marty.
He smiled and clapped his hands. “You found her. Good for you.” He looked at Natalie and said, “I prayed for you, my dear.”
She mumbled her thanks, and I gave him a quick rundown of what had happened. I left out some of the bloodier details, but he now knew the facts. I ended by asking if he had heard about the shoot-out near Tartu Maantee.
Father Marty said, “No, I haven’t heard anything about a shoot-out in Tallinn.”
“The FBI agent who was chasing me was injured trying to save us.”
“Oh, dear. And you don’t know how Mr. Fiore is doing?”
“No, Father, I don’t. As soon as I make sure Natalie’s safe, I want to check on him. He saved my”—I paused for a moment, then came up with—“life.”
“Mr. Fiore was quite angry at me after I helped you escape. I told him I followed my heart.”
“And what’d he say to that?”
“He had another suggestion on showing my love for myself.” The priest smiled.
I hid my own smile as I imagined the exchange. I said, “I’m sorry, Father.”
“No. One needs a diverse experience. It’s sometimes nice to hear new phrases. And in his defense, he did appear to be a dedicated law enforcement officer.”
“He absolutely is. And I hope he’s safe.”
Father Marty said, “I can have a car here in an hour. A man I know can drive you down to Riga, in Latvia. I think that’s the safest course of action. It will be easy to arrange a flight back to the US from Riga.”
Natalie said, “Can I send a quick email to my mom? I left my phone back at Henry’s building.”
“Of course, my dear. Use my office. There are some drinks in the little refrigerator if you need them.”
I plopped down in an overstuffed chair. Suddenly the events of the last few hours hit me in a wave. I dozed off before I even realized how comfortable I was.
Chapter 81
Christoph was behind the wheel of the Volkswagen Passat. He hated this car. It didn’t fit his image. Ollie had tried his best to talk his partner out of driving. With blood still leaking out of Christoph’s nose and his face turning a dark purple, Ollie had thought it would be best if he drove. The debate had lasted almost a minute, until Ollie had relented.
Now, as Christoph’s vision blurred, he wasn’t about to say anything to his partner. He blinked harder to get a better view of the streets of Tallinn. A woman, walking hand in hand with a little girl on the edge of the street, had to spring out of the way as Christoph swerved. Ollie turned quickly to see the woman on the curb, holding the girl and cursing them.
Christoph thought the vision issues might have more to do with his feelings than a physical injury. He was furious. And his fury was focused on two people. All he could think about was sticking his knife into Bennett’s throat. He imagined the blade when it first broke skin and he smiled. He wanted to do it just like he had done it to his cousin all those years ago. He never would admit to anyone how satisfying it had been. She had been laughing and threatening to expose him, and he had put an end to it with a simple, single thrust of his pocketknife.
He pictured Bennett in the same situation, grasping his neck as b
lood pumped out of severed arteries and veins. This time Christoph wouldn’t panic. Instead, he’d enjoy it.
Natalie was another story. He was thinking he wanted to watch her die slowly. Maybe by strangling her. He could picture that pretty face staring up at him as he choked the last breath out of her. Her brains wouldn’t count for shit when that happened. Natalie had brought this on herself. To Christoph, she was just another of Henry’s many girlfriends. Until she’d hit him in the face. Now she was a target. Henry hadn’t given him explicit permission to kill Natalie. But as far as Christoph was concerned, it was implied.
Henry was hard to figure. He never confided in anyone. But there was no doubt he was a business genius. The operation ran flawlessly, and they raked in a lot of cash. To Henry’s credit, he generally wasn’t shy about spreading the money around.
On the downside, he could lose his temper and order one of his hired thugs to kill anyone at any time. The perfect example was Janos and Alice in New York. They had apparently questioned his authority. Now everyone knew he was the king. Even if the king was a little crazy.
Christoph had known Henry since the beginning. The computer geek never would admit it, but he had changed. Some people speculated it happened when he got into weight lifting and using steroids. But Christoph had seen his dark, murderous side even before that.
The first killing Henry had ordered them to commit was a programmer who’d stolen some of Henry’s ideas and applied them to businesses in his native Canada. They had flown first class to Toronto, rented a car, and driven for what seemed like days, just to shoot the young man in the head at his parents’ house.
Now it was absolutely personal for Christoph. He didn’t care if Henry even paid them for these killings. They were going to happen.
Ollie said, “What happens once we catch them?”
Christoph tried not to show his anger in his voice. “We’ve already spent too much time and blood on this. Once we find the cop and the girl, I know exactly what I want to do. We take them to our favorite dumping ground in Kopli Liinid. With all the new construction there, no one will notice a couple of bodies stuck in the foundation of one of the new houses.”
Ollie was quiet. Finally he said, “Maybe we let this one go. We can find other jobs.”
Christoph flared. “No way. Not these two.”
“Perhaps we should talk to Henry first.”
“He’s busy. He’s got other problems.”
Ollie said, “I’m worried about the fat guy who escaped. He has details about us.”
“You worry about things too far ahead of time. We need to live for today. And today we’re going to kill Bennett and Natalie.”
“That’s the kind of shit Janos used to say. Look where it got him and Alice. I like looking into the future. I enjoy life too much to waste it. The fat guy could give the police everything. Maybe we’d be better off to end this and head back to Amsterdam right now.”
Before Christoph could rebut his partner’s logic, Ollie’s phone rang. It was Henry. Ollie put it on speaker.
Henry’s agitated voice was scratchy on the tiny phone speaker. He said, “Looks like Natalie accessed her email on a Wi-Fi network.”
Ollie asked, “Do you know where the network is physically located?”
“St. Laszlo’s Church.”
Christoph said, “Damn. We followed him there yesterday. He must be friends with the priest. We’ll call you when we’re done.” He ended the phone call before Henry could say anything else, just in case their fearless leader had second thoughts about his girlfriend.
Chapter 82
I came awake suddenly when a hand gently shook me. Father Marty and Natalie were standing over me, smiling. The giant chair still felt like a wide, soft pillow, and the remnants of a dream stuck in my head. I was marrying Mary Catherine. My grandfather was officiating, and Brian was with us. Pretty nice dream, but now it was back to a rougher reality.
Father Marty said, “It’s impressive you can fall asleep so quickly.”
“How long was I out?”
“About an hour. Your car is out front. Natalie told her mother she’s safe, and my colleagues in Latvia are expecting you.”
I said, “Thanks. Sorry we’re tying up one of your people.”
Father Marty waved me off. “Latki was driving to Riga anyway. He’s our IT manager for the entire region.” The Orthodox priest smiled. “It’s an old church with new ways. We find that social media keeps us up-to-date on what people are worried about.”
A red Volkswagen sedan sat in front of the church. The young man standing next to it smiled and introduced himself. He was tall and a little awkward, with thick glasses and shaggy hair. He couldn’t look Natalie in the eye. He looked like an IT character in a TV show, only a lot taller.
A box of files sat on the front passenger seat. Natalie and I slid into the comfortable back seat.
We made our good-byes, and our driver waved to Father Marty. He looked over his shoulder and said in accented English, “Make sure of seat belts. We are going on some bigger roads. If police check, the fine is unbelievable.”
Natalie said, “You make this drive often?”
He hesitated. It looked like he was screwing up his courage. It must’ve worked, as he turned and looked directly at Natalie. “Once every two weeks. How do you say in English? Semiweekly?”
I had to think about that one for a moment. I was pretty sure he was looking for biweekly.
I wanted to get moving. I needed to know Natalie was safe and then I needed to check on Bill Fiore. The longer we waited, the more anxious I felt.
As I sat there, thinking about it for a moment, I saw a flash in the corner of my eye. Another car was barreling directly toward us. It had hopped a curb and was cutting across the stretch of park across the street from the church like a missile.
The crash was tremendous. It was as if sound faded away, then my whole world spun in every crazy direction. Our car flew across the sidewalk, spinning 180 degrees before plowing into the bushes in front of the church. The driver’s soda, which I learned that moment was called Lumivalgeke, floated into the air and seemed to freeze in space as gravity worked its magic on everything else.
It felt as if the laws of time had been suspended. Everything happened in slow motion. Until it didn’t.
The engine creaked and shifted under the crumpled hood as the car came to a stop. The windshield crackled, then tumbled into the car, a spider-webbed mass of glass.
Our driver was moving. Slowly. He called out, “Are you injured?”
I was relieved. If he was asking, it meant he wasn’t too badly hurt.
I turned to Natalie. She wasn’t moving and her eyes were shut. I thought the worst. I gently touched her arm. When her eyes popped open, I almost fainted with relief.
I leaned in close and spoke clearly. “Are you okay?”
She just sat there for a moment. Then she turned her head to face me. Her voice was weak. “I’m okay, I think.”
Then I looked past Natalie out the window. I could see that Father Marty had leapt out of the way.
The other car was also a Volkswagen. A slightly smaller one. The front end was smashed. The car would never run again. It rested partially on the street and partially on the sidewalk.
Then I saw the other driver. The Dutch killer Christoph glared out of the driver’s side window directly at me. This collision was no accident. And it left no doubt what Henry wanted done with me and Natalie.
I tried my door. Jammed shut. I fumbled with my seat belt, finally managing to open the buckle. I hit the door with my shoulder. Still nothing.
No one emerged from the other car, either.
Chapter 83
I’d been in car accidents before. Shock was one of my immediate concerns. Shock did crazy things to people. They couldn’t think clearly, and their perception was faulty. That was the last thing I needed right now.
I had to do something. My door was jammed, but if we waited much longer, tha
t would be the least of our problems. The interior of our car started to fill with a foul smell. I’m not a mechanic, but it had to mean that the engine was leaking oil or some other kind of fluid. Either way, I knew we couldn’t stay in the car.
Latki moaned, then coughed, but kept moving. He pulled the handle on his door and almost fell out into the bushes. One of the hinges on his door snapped and the door fell onto the torn-up grass almost on top of him.
I reached across and unhooked Natalie’s seat belt. She opened her door easily, got out, then turned and reached back to make sure I got out of the car as well. She may have been scared, but she wasn’t clueless. I appreciated that.
I stepped out on shaky legs. Natalie grabbed me under the arm and helped me stand. I turned to her and said, “Go with Father Marty, right now.”
It was as if saying his name made him appear. He kneeled down and quickly checked Latki, who waved him off.
Father Marty said, “You both need to run. I’ll see if I can delay those men.” From what I’d told him earlier, he’d figured out who was in the other car.
I said, “We’ll run, but you can’t confront these men. They’re not like us. They won’t listen to reason. They don’t care about your standing in the church or if this is holy ground. You and Latki need to get out of here, too.”
Father Marty nodded, then shoved me toward the church to get me moving. My ankle and knee felt like someone had hit them with a hammer. But I followed Natalie as she urged me along, just as Father Marty and Latki trotted roughly off in the opposite direction, away from the church and hopefully to safety.
Each step was agony. I knew I wasn’t in shock because I rationally considered what a torn meniscus or damaged ankle might mean in the long run. I didn’t want Chrissy pushing me in a wheelchair before she graduated from Harvard.
Then I had an idea and was able to pick up the pace a little bit. I didn’t have a gun and I didn’t have backup, so I had to use our only advantage. I’d been here before and knew the terrain. These two Dutchmen had gotten in a surprise blow, but I knew not to underestimate them.
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