Hard Road (23 page)

Reznick said nothing.

“Jon, you need to help us.”

“Look, let's cut to the chase and say what you've got to say.”

“I want to help you get your daughter back. But we've got to trust each other, at least a little.”

“You've got two minutes to make your point.”

“Someone took your daughter. Why? Because you should have killed a government scientist. Now, I'm gonna level with you. Someone wants this scientist dead real bad. But we need him, Jon. And it's no word of a lie to say this man is vital to America's national security interests.”

Reznick listened as he wondered who he could trust. Meyerstein or Maddox. He'd never met this woman, but she didn't seem like a bullshitter, much less a liar. He assumed she could lie if she had to. But something about her told him that she was giving it to him straight.

The waitress arrived with the drinks. “Enjoy!” she said cheerily.

Reznick looked away as Meyerstein gave a wan smile to the girl.

“Where is he, Jon? Where's Luntz?”

“He's safe.”

Meyerstein blew out a sigh of relief. She looked over to the four suits before she stared straight at him. “We've also got a big problem, Jon. An additional problem. We have a trail of bodies, some I don't care about. But one of them was a Special Agent. We found him in a wardrobe. We saw the signs that he had been neutralised. Jon, do you know he was married? Had two young daughters. Now their daddy will never come home. They'll never see him again.”

“Listen to me and listen good. That wasn't me.”

“I want to believe you, Jon. But my colleagues beside the door–”

“This is bullshit.”

A long silence opened up before Meyerstein spoke, leaning forward. He smelled a light citrus perfume. “No, this is not bullshit, Jon. This is as real as it gets.”

Reznick jabbed his thumb into his chest. “I want my daughter back. She is a child. She's out there. And she'll be frightened out of her mind. On a fucking boat. Now are you gonna stop fucking me around or what?”

“I need answers, Jon. Did you kill Agent Connelly?”

Reznick said nothing.

“Your prints are all over the place.”

“Aren't you listening? I didn't kill him. Got that?”

“So who did?”

“Probably the same people who took my daughter.”

“OK, let's say for a moment that I believe this. Let's move to Luntz. Where is he?”

“I told you he's safe.”

“Jon, here's what we have. We're up against the clock. You're up against the clock. But what I'm going to propose can help us both. But you must trust me, like I want to trust you.”

Reznick knocked back his Coke and stared out again over the marina. “Can you help me get my daughter back? That's all I'm interested in.”

“Yes, I can.” Meyerstein finished her iced tea and stood up. “Let's walk as we converse.”

They walked down the boardwalk past a line of shops, restaurants and bars, and on the other side yachts, catamaran, ferries and dive boats, vying for business. Then over to Mallory Square, a huge plaza on the waterfront, where jugglers, clowns, jewelry vendors, face painters and tourists mingled. A cruise ship was heading out of the port.

Reznick was aware of the Feds in suits walking about twenty yards behind them. Meyerstein led them over towards the big red building – Key West Museum of Art & History – and sat down on an empty bench.

Satisfied there was no one within earshot, Reznick leaned forward and spoke first. “You mentioned about a national security threat to America. What kind of threat?”

“We're talking mass casualties. A possible bio-terrorist attack. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Reznick took a few moments for the information to sink in. This was totally at odds with what Maddox had told him. He wondered if he shouldn't just turn and walk away. But something deep within him sensed not only that she was telling the truth, but that she could be trusted. “That's not the information I have.”

“Trust me, this guy is indeed a scientist. I don't know if your handler, or whatever you call him, is in control of this situation. He won't save you or your daughter. Only we can.”

“OK, let's say for a minute that what you're saying is correct. So, how does the scientist fit into this?”

It was Meyerstein's turn to go quiet.

“Listen, we're either going to level with each other, or you better speak to someone else.”

Meyerstein cleared her throat and sighed. “You've not got clearance for this.”

“Fuck clearance. You either deal me in or I walk.”

Meyerstein pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment. “We believe, we're not one hundred per cent sure, but we believe that the guy you were supposed to kill had concerns over a fellow scientist. That scientist has disappeared. Bottom line? Luntz is America's leading authority on this threat, and is close to coming up with ways to neutralise it.”

Reznick held his head in his hands and said nothing.

“Jon, we need this scientist. Just like you need your daughter.”

“So, what do you propose?”

“Before I run this by you, I need to know why you didn't kill Luntz.”

Reznick looked down at his hands. He didn't want to elaborate.

“Look, if I'm putting my cards on the table, I want you to do the same. Don't shut me out.”

“Let's just say there was a discrepancy.”

Meyerstein sat in silence waiting for him to speak.

He sighed. “I had been given another name. The scientist was wearing an Israeli dog tag written in Hebrew.”

“What?”

“Exactly my response. The tag was his son's. He worked for the IDF. It showed the name Luntz. Also had a picture of his son around his neck. But there was no ID to corroborate that. It had already been cleared out.”

“Who by?”

“I don't know. Perhaps by the crew who did your colleague?”

Meyerstein blew out her cheeks and shook her head. “Are you saying this might have been compartmentalised into two separate jobs?”

“Think about it. Everything is compartmentalised in the military. Same with the government. You're given an order and that order – whatever it is – is carried out. It's operational level. But you don't know the big picture. What's really happening? This is how it's done on major jobs. You only know one piece of the jigsaw. The people higher up the chain know how it all fits together. Need to know, and all that jazz. The person or people who did the job on your colleague, were possibly staying in the same hotel as me, who knows?”

“OK, let's assume that what you're saying is correct. Then what?”

“I received instructions…”

“From whom?”

“I'm not going there.”

“Why not?”

Reznick just shrugged, eyes dead.

“Oh…you got instructions. To do what?”

Reznick told her everything that had happened and how he had got down to Miami via Fort Lauderdale.

Meyerstein listened before she turned and stole a quick glance at the agents twenty yards away. Then she faced Reznick. “OK, this is how it's gonna work.”

Reznick said nothing.

“You've opened up to me, just like I've opened up to you. We both want different things, though. Now, listen closely. Do you know where your daughter is being held?”

“I've got a fair idea.”

“But do you know whose yacht it is?”

Reznick nodded. “Wife of a Haitian diplomat goon.”

“As you can imagine, that poses us problems.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I'm saying this is tricky.”

“Listen, am I wasting my time? Are you or are you not going to help me get my daughter back? She is an American in American waters.”

Meyerstein sighed. “We can help you, but not directly.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Diplomatic immunity. Under the Vienna Convention, the diplomat and his immediate family is accorded full protection under international law. They're out of bounds.”

“Oh, you're not gonna pull that bullshit are you?”

“It's not bullshit. It's the law. Whether we like it or not.”

“Don't throw that crap at me. International law? This is America. I don't give a shit about international law.”

“Well I do. And here's what I propose. You tell me where the scientist is, and I will give you free reign to get your daughter and provide any assistance required. No questions asked.”

Reznick felt a burning anger inside as uncertainty reigned. He wondered if he could really trust her. He knew it would be the easiest thing in the world for the FBI to promise something but then renege on that. It was only business. He tried to size her up. She wasn't flustered or blustering or blabbering on. She was serious and it was direct. But he also got the impression that she wasn't fazed by him or what he did. “And then what?”

“We can come to that obstacle later. As of now, you either play ball, or it becomes a lose-lose situation.”

“OK, let's say I agree to this. What guarantees are there?”

“There are no guarantees.”

“So, if I manage to make it out of there and get my daughter, then what?”

Meyerstein sighed. “Jon, I've got two children of my own. I miss them like crazy every day I'm away from them. I know what I'd do for them. And I'd probably do what I think you're going to do. If you're smart, you'll take this offer. What I can say is that my number one priority is getting the scientist back.”

“Look, if I agree, you must give me your word that my friend watching over Luntz, will not be charged, or anything. He was doing me a favor by looking after him. Can that be done?”

“Who is he?”

“Look, he's not in my line of work. He used to be in the Unit, like me. But whatever you do, don't creep up on him with a SWAT team. He'll take half of them out.”

“If we get the scientist back safely, your friend will be fine. You have my word.”

Reznick went quiet for a few moments. “I don't need the coastguard around. I need free access, in and out. I want radio jamming in and around that location. Can you arrange that?”

“Not a problem. Two mile exclusion OK for you?”

“That'll work. I also need to know who's on the boat. How many? What are they packing?”

“If this all goes sour, you're on your own. We will deny any involvement. Are we clear?”

“That goes without saying.”

Meyerstein sighed. “There are two guys. Both with Uzis. Part of the former FRAPH crowd that still hangs around Miami. Maybe high. Not a good combination.”

“Do you know anything about the condition of my daughter? Is she alive?”

“We believe she may be drugged. Some opiate, perhaps.”

Reznick's stomach knotted and he clenched his fists tight.

“Jon, look at me.” Meyerstein took off her shades. Her eyes were as blue as the sky. “I've been in this job a long time. And I've always played it by the book. But I'm going to go out on a limb for you if you give me an address. Can you help me out?”

Reznick's mind was racing. How could he trust her? Truth was he didn't have any cards to play even if he wanted to. “You're gonna need a cover story for some guy trying to board a diplomat's yacht.”

“No one need know. It's out at sea. The coastguard will be kept out with an exclusion zone. All I need is a location. And I swear on my children's life, I will not fuck you over on this if you've told me the truth and keep your side of the bargain.”

“I need something else from you too. To help my daughter. If she's even alive. If she's been drugged, I need an antidote.”

Meyerstein nodded.

“I need three doses of Naloxone and a clean needle and syringe.”

“To counteract the opiates?”

“Precisely.”

Meyerstein curled some hair behind her ear. The way she did it reminded him of Elisabeth. “I'll get that for you.”

Reznick closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Pitch 87, Del Raton trailer park, up the coast at Delray Beach. But play it gentle. Like I said, if you go in with SWAT, you better have the body bags ready.”

Meyerstein made a call and relayed the details. She ended the call. “When are you going to do this?”

“As soon as it gets dark.”

Meyerstein stood up. “I'll get what you need before then. We'll talk again, Jon. I hope to God you find your daughter alive, really I do.”

Reznick looked at her and bowed his head. “Yeah, so do I.”

TWENTY-ONE

The sky was pitch black six miles out on the Straits of Florida. Reznick saw a faint light in the distance and cut the outboard engine. He anchored the dive boat over a mile away from the target. The heavy swell was affecting his balance. Anxiety over the fate of his daughter wasn't helping. But he knew that he had to focus on the task in hand.

He checked the luminous dial on his watch which showed it was 6.28pm. He picked up the night vision glasses and peered through the darkness in the direction of the light. A luxury yacht was bobbing in the choppy waters. He scanned the yacht and could just make out the word
Pòtoprens
. This was it.

Reznick did a slow sweep across the yacht and saw a man sitting on the deck drinking from a can, feet up on the stern side of the boat. For the next five minutes, he just watched. But no sign of the other man or his daughter.