An Altered Course

by R A Carter-Squire

  “I’m not worried, but you’re going to get tired of standing and waiting for this to download. Relax; this’ll take as long as necessary.” He leaned back and waved at the empty chair next to Walker. There was a picture of the ambassador’s family next to the monitor showing a blonde woman, the wife in her late forties he guessed, next to two young men in their teens or early twenties. They smiled for the camera, but he could tell they weren’t happy. There were two empty file trays, one labeled in and the other out, but otherwise, the desk was clear. He opened the top middle drawer and began to snoop.

  “What are you doing? Get out of there. Do you want to get us shot for spying?” There was an urgent note of fear in Walker’s whispered voice that seemed to Michael to be out of place. He wondered if the spy had been doing this very long.

  “Just killing time.” He slid the drawer closed. “I’m pretty sure that if we get caught in here, we’re going to be in a lot of trouble whether we’re snooping of not. Do you think we could get a coffee? I do my best thinking with coffee.” He smiled, knowing his calm demeanor would irritate the British agent.

  Walker flopped back in the chair as if he’d been shot, and his head started to move side to side at an ever-increasing speed.

  “You’re mad.” He finally stopped shaking his head and stared. “We can’t be seen wandering around in this building, and calling someone to fetch us a coffee would be an invitation to the firing squad. Being an American wouldn’t be any protection. You’d be in as much trouble as me.”

  “What do you really do here, Walker? You’re no more a spy than I am so tell me your real job.” Michael didn’t smile, but he almost did when Walker’s mouth fell open.

  “I... I don’t know what...” he sputtered for a second and then regained control. His shoulders sagged as he slid a bit further into the chair. “I’m an agriculture assistant. How did you know?”

  “Until we got in here, I didn’t, but a real undercover agent wouldn’t be so nervous. If you’re not who you say you are, then I’m guessing Habbib isn’t a real policeman, either.” He sat forward and rested his elbows on the desk.

  His head shook, saying no. “He’s a policeman but not a detective. They have part-time constables here, and he’s one of them. This was just supposed to be our way of making enough money to retire. He has ten children, and between the police and his job as a cook in that restaurant you were in, he doesn’t make enough money to ever retire.”

  “He’s a cook? Who contacted you?”

  “Two men stopped me four days ago outside the embassy. They sounded Russian or middle-eastern. One of them handed me an envelope and told me to expect a foreigner. ‘The information this person has is worth ten million dollars to me,’ they said. I tried to object, saying I was just a low-level employee, but they told me I would be perfect. One of them suggested that if I didn’t co-operate there would be painful consequences. When they’d gone, I opened the envelope. Your picture was inside along with the hotel and date you’d arrive. There was also twenty thousand pounds for expenses. Habbib and I have been friends for the last six years, so he was a natural choice for a partner.”

  Michael was stunned. Four days ago, Sam had barely known where they were going. This was more than a case of an air traffic controller knowing the destination, but more like someone close to Sam. But the speed the information moved between contacts staggered him more. Keeping his voice even and low, he continued questioning Walker.

  “How are you supposed to get paid?”

  Walker sat up straighter and eyed Michael suspiciously. “What’s that to you?” he demanded.

  Shrugging, he said, “This information shouldn’t be in the hands of criminals. If all this cloak and dagger is just a payday, then I’ll give you the money to let us go.” He’d been in many negotiations before and knew when to keep quiet. Now was that time.

  Walker thought about the proposal. He’d rather have money than needing to kill someone. Disappearing sounded like a better option while Habbib could take his family and hide. There was always the chance the criminals were watching him, but he didn’t care anymore. His life was over no matter what came next.

  “Why would I trust you any more than them? There’s nothing to make you keep your word, especially once we let you go.”

  Michael smiled as relief flooded through him. “I’m the one with the most to lose, so for me to pay you makes sense. We can leave right now and go to the nearest international bank. I’ll transfer the money to anywhere you like, and then Sam and I can head back home. More than that, I’ll give you my word that the authorities will not be contacted.” He put his hand out slowly to shake with Walker. The man eyed him up, conflicted by his emotions. Finally, his right hand moved from his lap and gripped Michael’s firmly. He stood.

  “Turn that thing off and let’s get out of here before I change my mind.”

  “I’ll need to erase the call log and any data that’s been transferred. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of minutes.” Michael lifted the receiver and replaced it into the telephone cradle. He knew the transmission would instantly terminate on the other end, which might cause Randal some concern. Even if he had panicked and called the police, there would be at least an hour before anything happened in this country. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he erased any evidence that they’d been in the office.

  “Hurry, we’ve been here too long already.” Walker kept glancing at his watch and then at the closed door.

  “Done,” Michael said as he stood up and shut off the monitor. Walker slowly opened the door a crack and peered out into the hall. He stuck his head through the opening and looked both ways before flinging the door wide.

  “Let’s go, but stay close,” the taller man hissed.

  Michael stayed on Walker’s heels as they marched toward the front doors. The guard was back at the reception counter. He nodded to Walker as they passed but said nothing. Outside, the heat slammed into them. The car still sat at the curb. The Beefeater moved to open the passenger door as the men came down the steps. They both breathed a sigh of relief as the car started and Walker pulled into the heavy traffic.

  Darkness was falling as they turned the corner onto the last street. The safe house wasn’t the same as when they’d left. Another car, a new Mercedes sedan, was parked in front of the overhead door. Walker pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine but didn’t move when Michael opened the passenger door.

  “They’re here, Michael. The men inside will kill us all when they find out we don’t have the program.” His whole body trembled as if he was cold. Michael thought for a moment before stepping out. He leaned his head back inside.

  “If we stay out here, they’ll know something is wrong. At least inside, we’ll be able to bluff our way out of this situation. Follow my lead and try to act as if you aren’t worried.” He stood up and shut the door. Walker slowly climbed out of the car and followed him inside the house. There was no sign of the guards outside.

  Two men were silently waiting, one seated on the couch, the other standing at the doorway to the kitchen. They wore black suits. Both men were bald, muscular, and seemed to be carved from rock. Hawk-like noses, subtle scars on their faces, and beady, dark eyes gave them a predatory appearance. The guy standing in the doorway seemed bigger, his head almost touching the ceiling. Habbib and Sam were nowhere to be seen.

  “Ah, my friend Walker, and I assume you are Mr. Michael Eldridge,” the man on the couch shouted happily. “Your friends told me you went to the embassy to use the computer an hour ago. I was becoming worried that trouble had gotten you.” He leaned forward and motioned them to sit. “Tell me, gentlemen, do you bring the program?” The smile faded quickly from his face, and the eyes turned cold.

  “We had a problem,” Michael said. He looked at Walker and saw the Brit roll his eyes. “The ambassador returned early, and we had to leave or be caught. According to his date book, he’s leaving for a meeting tonight in Cairo and won’t be back until Friday.
We’ll go back later or tomorrow, but there won’t be any more problems getting the program, Mr...”

  “Oh yes, a thousand pardons, I’m such an idiot.” He slapped his forehead with a meaty hand attached to an arm the size of a leg of ham. “My name is Andropov, Alexis Andropov. His name is Yuri, but he doesn’t matter. This news you bring about not getting the program is very worrying to me, Mr. Eldridge. We should be friends. May I call you Michael or Mike? Mike is what you Americans prefer, yes. I am a gentleman despite stories you may have heard to the contrary, Mike.” His massive head turned to look at Walker. “I am always bothered when people I am dealing with try to abuse my good nature. They soon learn that I can be less than subtle when I must teach them a lesson.” He leaned back on the couch and crossed his massive hands across his stomach.

  “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, Mr. Andropov, but all I’m saying is that there was a slight delay in getting you the program. Nothing else has changed, and we’ll retrieve the code for you later.” Michael sat in the chair, trying to relax.

  “This is a good thing, but that is not what I wanted.” He sighed and closed his eyes. A moment had passed before they opened again. “The moment you two left this house, I telephoned my employers. Oh yes, I too have people to report to, Mike. They were quite excited about receiving your program, but now when I speak to them, they will be furious. Who do you think they will punish, Mr. Walker?” The big head swiveled slowly.

  “I’m guessing it’s me,” he said, the words barely a whisper.

  “You would be wrong because they will attempt to harm my organization or me. This, in turn, will make me upset, and I must take this anger out on one of you. Do you think I am stupid, Mike?” The sudden change in conversation made Michael jump. The big man’s pale blue eyes seemed more like raw steel.

  “I don’t know you well enough to make that kind of judgment.”

  The Russian laughed a burst of noise that shook the room. “Ah, it is better not to know me so well I think,” he said and wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Never mind, I will deal with them. Out of admiration for you, I will allow you this one mistake, but I must prove to you that I am serious, Mr. Eldridge. People will no longer respect me if they find out I am weak.” He heaved his body off the couch and stared down at both men. “Someone in this house must pay the price, but who shall it be? Neither of you because there is no other way to get the program, so one of the others.” His massive head motioned to the man in the doorway. Michael turned as the second gangster glanced into the kitchen. A moment later, there were noises of chairs being pushed around. The thug in the doorway straightened as Sam preceded Habbib into the room. Another Russian followed them, smaller but just as ugly as the other two, carrying a machine gun of some sort. Michael didn’t know one gun from another, but the large clip sticking out the bottom was a clue.

  “Gentlemen, you’ve heard the conversation, and now I must apologize to one of you because these two couldn’t carry out a simple task. There is always a price to pay for failure.” The boss shrugged and held up his hands.

  “If you harm these men, you’ll never see the program,” Michael said.

  Andropov looked down. His face went red and then white.

  “I think you are mistaken, Mr. Eldridge. My daughter is being held hostage by my employers, and I am positive they will inflict pain on her because I failed them. The same must be done to one of these men or she will have suffered for nothing, and I will lose face.”

  “I don’t care about whether you lose face.” Michael snarled as he jumped up. “I’m sorry about your daughter, but you only have yourself to blame. If you weren’t a criminal, she wouldn’t be in pain right now. My friend and I are willing to give you what you want because the program holds no value for us. We’re here and involved in this situation because you and your employers decided to steal my life’s work.” The slap came from nowhere. Michael saw stars for several seconds as he was knocked back into the chair. The left side of his face felt crushed. He looked up at Andropov.

  “Who do you think you are, you American pig? Do you think you can frighten me with your money? Men like you die every day, and I don’t weep one tear for them. My daughter is my most precious possession, and if she is harmed, then it is my duty to punish those responsible.” His voice had risen to a thunderous shout; spit flew from his mouth as he ranted. The massive hands clenched in balls of rage at his sides. “I grew up on the streets of Moscow fighting for my life every day, and I swore to God that my children wouldn’t spend one moment the same way. You and this fucking Englishman failed. Both of you would be dead right now if I didn’t need you. Shoot that filthy Arab,” he shouted. The sound of the machine gun made less noise in the house.

  Habbib dropped forward as blood erupted from at least a dozen bullet wounds in his back. The man holding the gun smiled as smoke drifted out of the muzzle. Andropov sat suddenly as if he’d also been shot. Michael glanced over at him. Tears streamed down the Russian’s cheeks and silence filled the room.

  “Clean up that mess,” the boss ordered in a whisper. Michael sat forward, his face feeling swollen. Walker had gone pale. His mouth was hanging open in fear as he stared at the dead body of his partner.

  Yuri and the shooter grabbed Habbib’s body and carried him into the kitchen. Michael had no idea where they would take the police officer’s body after that. He felt sorry for his family. Their lives would get even harder from now on without a father and husband. He looked up at Sam. The man stood motionless in the middle of the living room, a dark stain covering the crotch of his pants. His eyes seemed vacant as if he’d died with Habbib but hadn’t fallen down yet.

  “Sam,” Michael whispered. “Sam, go change your clothes. You’re fine.” It took a minute for the words to sink in, but finally, he started to move stiff-legged, making his way down the hall to one of the bedrooms. Andropov was still crying. The back door banged shut, and the other Russians stepped into the living room.

  “You probably think I am a woman for crying,” Andopov sniffed. “But again you would be wrong. That man did not have to die and it pains me to take a life. Strange, eh? A strong Russian like me crying, but I weep because of the stupid people around me. My daughter’s health is in your hands, gentlemen. We will go now,” Andropov said as he stood. “Make sure you get me that program tonight or there will be more blood.” The man with the machine gun was the last out the door. He smiled back at Michael with an evil expression as the door closed.

  Silence filled the house once more. The stench of blood, cordite, and urine filled the air. Michael was about to go into the kitchen for a drink—anything but water—when the door shattered inwards, slamming against the inside wall. A torrent of men dressed in black from head to toe rushed into the living room carrying automatic weapons and shouting.

  Michael and Walker were flung to the floor on their faces. Someone held a knee in the middle of Michael’s back, pressing his face into the carpet. The men in black continued to shout. At last, whoever was holding him in place released him and pulled him off the floor. A new face appeared.

  “I’m Captain Richter of the Monaco Royal Police, and you must be Michael Eldridge.” The man seemed concerned yet relieved. “We received word from your California office that you might be in trouble. Since you’re a high-profile guest in our country, we felt it prudent to act on the information.” He smiled as he pulled off his black helmet. “Please take a seat. I’m sorry for the way you were treated just now, and I know that wasn’t the best way for us to meet, but your safety, as well as that of my men, was my top priority.” Richter sat on the edge of the chair nearest Michael. He kept one hand on his rifle lying on his knees. Sam came into the room carrying three bottles of beer, handing one to Michael and Walker each.

  “How did you know where to find us?” Sam asked the most obvious question.

  “The message from your office gave us a longitude and latitude, which led us to this house. You must have an amazing g
roup of people working for you, or perhaps your computers are responsible. Either way, the information was accurate. We had just taken our position when Andropov and his henchmen came out, and the rest you already know.” The smile was back. Richter had a face more like a fashion model than a police officer. Uniform white teeth that sparkled when he smiled, striking blue eyes, and almost white-blond hair.

  “Yeah, I’ll need two weeks to get the impression of a knee out of my back,” Michael moaned.

  “I truly am sorry for the way you were treated, but we take no chances in hostage situations.” His blue eyes kept straying back to Walker. “How were you kidnapped in the first place?”

  Michael leaned back on the sofa and took a long swig of beer. I can’t tell him the truth, he thought. Walker was just a pawn in this whole affair. Sure, the man held us captive and would have killed us, but all they wanted was the money. Now the police officer is dead, and there is nobody to care for his family.

  “Sam and I ran into Walker down at the marina the night we arrived. He knew about the possibility of us being in danger and tried to hide us here, but Andropov found us. One of his thugs killed Habbib. The Russian wanted the communication program I had just created for NASA. I managed to get a message through to my office that we were being held captive and as you say...the rest you already know.” He smiled, relieved and to show Richter that he was sincere. The pain on the left side of his face was lessening.

  “Is that how you remember the events, Mr. Walker?” There was no kindness in the captain’s voice. Walker was being treated like a suspected spy operating in this country, Michael noticed. He felt sorry for him.

  The Brit nodded. “If I have anything to add, I’d say that once Andropov found us, our lives were in imminent danger. He forced us to go to the British embassy and break into the ambassador’s computer to send the message to California. We had no other choice. There was a glitch in the system, and we didn’t receive the entire program. When we came back here and told Andropov, he had Habbib killed in front of us. You can see the stain on the floor.” He pointed the beer bottle in his trembling hand at the drying blood on the floor.