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Authors: Alan L. Lee

Sandstorm (14 page)

BOOK: Sandstorm
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After the call, Nevsky consulted a map of the region and began calculating the safest and quickest route. He didn’t anticipate having any more problems, but in the world of black market goods, anything was possible.

 

CHAPTER
24

Nathan Yadin’s eyes focused long enough to confirm it was late morning. Certainly an oddity, since he was usually an early riser. His body felt sluggish, but in a good way. To that end, he slowly turned to see the face that belonged with the feminine arm draped around his midsection. He moved ever so slowly, so as to not wake her. This little respite had rejuvenated him much more than he’d thought it would. In the precious few days he’d known her, the sex was delightfully good, but the mental stroking was what made it complete. They talked not about the ills of the world but instead about wine, art, and music. The weather even managed to be a topic of discussion—beautiful sunsets, gentle breezes, how good the sun felt upon their bodies, the stars dancing across the sky’s canvas at night. In his other life, the weather would only come up in terms of how it might alter the variables of an operation’s success.

Her name was Lauren, and he was attracted to her partly because there was nothing artificial about her. She was naturally attractive. The late-morning light that filled the room illuminated her makeupless face. If a woman could pass this test, she was indeed a find. Still, like most women, she felt her early morning look was not presentable to the masses. Yet, for the past couple of mornings, he took delight in seeing that face before she woke. Last night was another late one, topped off by lovemaking. If he was quiet, she would sleep some more. He, on the other hand, already felt a trace of guilt for sleeping so late. He carefully slid out of bed and dressed in athletic garb. He ventured out into the Chania sunshine, determined to jog at least several miles at a brisk pace. He marveled at the scenery, considering just how idyllic a life like this could be. He certainly had the funds to do it. There were no family responsibilities holding him back. And yet, it was not as easy as flipping a switch. The one thing really holding him back was his anger and hatred. The world was filled with evil, stupid people. He wasn’t delusional enough to believe he could eradicate them all, but he had and could still make a small difference. One fewer sect of suicide bombers undoubtedly saved countless lives. One fewer terrorist might cause the next to question whether it was the right career path. Walking away now was just not a viable option, but the mere fact that he was starting to have the mental conversation indicated the possibility that such a time would arrive. Until then, moments like this would have to suffice.

At the end of his run, his lungs burned slightly from being put to the test, but they recovered quickly. Along with the rest of his body, they were used to the drill. A little discomfort up front went a long way toward preventing a lot of punishment on the back end. He stopped for coffee, juice, fruit, and any other breakfast items suitable for carrying. Entering the hotel suite, he expected her to be awake by now, so he didn’t try to mask his entrance. He smiled when no signs of life greeted him. He glanced through the bedroom’s French doors and could tell his return was beginning to wake her. He thought about setting the table inside and then decided it was a perfect morning to enjoy breakfast on the balcony instead. From outside, he could hear her call his name.

“Lauren, I’ve got breakfast,” he responded. He stepped back inside through the wind-whipped drapes and immediately smiled upon seeing her. “Of course, you’re going to have to put on some clothes.”

She stood at the entrance to the bedroom, totally naked, part of her long blond hair covering a breast. The breeze from the balcony managed to blow strands of her hair aside so that both breasts were now exposed. She had a sheepish look on her still awaking face as he admired her nude form.

“I hope you like what I got,” he offered, motioning back toward the balcony.

With pursed lips she said, “I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve done so far.”

The invitation to flirt was answered as Yadin crossed the room to join her. They embraced and kissed. In the brief time he’d known her, he discovered she was a lot like him—minus the killing, of course, but she was lethal in her own right. Looking for a place to relax and unwind, Lauren had been drawn to Chania as well. She really didn’t intend to meet a man during her self-prescribed R and R. Why ruin a perfect retreat with drama? Besides, she dealt with enough men in her high-pressure world of corporate takeovers and acquisitions. When she set her sights on a company, she was known for being a ball breaker. But when she’d first seen Yadin a couple of nights ago, there’d been something about him, a sort of kinship that sent signals across the room. There were other, more attractive men in the bar, but none possessed his sense of comfort. He was a man who seemed totally content to be by himself. He didn’t look at every short skirt or tight-fitting pair of jeans in the bar. Instead, his taste seemed more refined. He was interesting enough for her to send a drink his way. Rather than take advantage of the compliment, he merely acknowledged her and raised his glass to say thanks. Men didn’t ignore her, but the casual gesture intrigued her. She found his slight rejection appealing. Here was a man who was smart enough to accept a good thing, but not careless enough to commit to something he didn’t know fully. It was enough to get her to follow up with a trek to his table. And now, here they were, no longer strangers physically, and surprisingly to both of them, growing closer emotionally.

There had to be a sense of reality here, though. Chania would come to an end sooner rather than later, and there were no plans made or thought of beyond what they were experiencing in the present. The morning after they met, they both agreed to do something unthinkable for them in the real world. It was proof of how much they both needed a break. The pact was to leave their cell phones off and no checking e-mail. It was crazy, but so was this.

She could taste the salt on his skin produced by his run. She was impressed by his dedication to staying in shape. He did some sort of lengthy workout every day, fatigued or not. She also appreciated his thoughtful side, something she hadn’t expected. Stopping to get breakfast was an example of that, and she didn’t want to waste his effort. She pushed back to look into his eyes.

“I’ll put on a robe so we can eat breakfast on this beautiful day on the balcony,” she whispered. “And then, judging by how you taste and how much I know I sweated last night, we can take a shower together.” She planted a kiss on his lips and then nodded for him to go get started on breakfast while she headed to the closet to get a robe. First, though, she’d make a stop in the bathroom to at least run a brush through her hair and throw some water on her face.

On the way to the balcony, Yadin out of habit grabbed his dormant cell phone and placed it on the table next to him. He poured himself a cup of coffee and then felt compelled to break the pact. It had been a couple of days, and much was at stake. He turned on his cell phone and retrieved his e-mail from a nondescript account. He wasn’t the type to get a lot of correspondence through the World Wide Web. There were three messages, all from Yosef Ezra. They didn’t bear the man’s name, but he was quite familiar with the moniker Ezra used for this mission. The first message had been sent a couple of days ago. There was no copy within the message; the subject line said it all.
Sandstorm. Green Light.
That same message was repeated in one sent twenty-four hours later. The third message still contained no copy, but the subject line conveyed a sense of nervousness and urgency. “Where Are You?” it read in bold letters. Yadin smiled, knowing the old man was probably on the verge of a coronary because he hadn’t responded yet. Yadin could see him panicking. Agonizing that all his hard work and detailed planning would be wasted if something had happened to his most valuable commodity. There was no one capable of taking his place. Yadin decided to have some fun. He replied to the third message with the subject line, “I’m Fine. On Vacation.” He went on to write that he’d received the two previous messages and that this was his last day of rest. Just as he sent the message, Lauren came walking through the drapes to join him. She immediately noticed the cell phone and then looked away with a smile as she sat down.

She reached for a Danish pastry and poured herself a cup of coffee, adding a side plate of fruit. “Thank you for breakfast,” she uttered before feasting on a slice of melon.

He gazed upon her sun-bronzed skin, enjoying a sip of coffee as he did so. They sat in silence, letting the scenery and sound effects of the day fill in the gaps.

Finally, she spoke. “So, when are you leaving?”

He knew she realized he had broken the pact and what doing so meant. The outside world had finally come between them. “Tomorrow morning,” he simply stated. There was no need for explanation. That, too, had been part of the deal. They were both strong-minded adults who understood that you take what life gives you and run with it for as long as the opportunity presents itself. For them, the past few days had been total bliss, and neither regretted their happiness, no matter the dose.

Lauren toyed with a large strawberry in her mouth, her full lips helping to squeeze it in half. “Well, in that case,” she murmured, placing a leg in his lap, her toes beginning to explore his inner thigh. “I have the perfect way to spend most of the day.”

 

CHAPTER
25

The faces Alex encountered as he looked around the noisy, crowded room reminded him of his early adulthood. That time frame where he thought he knew enough about life to be taken seriously. The You Night Club reeked of such playful entitlement. Young people with money in their pockets and the illusion of invulnerability.

He leaned his athletic frame against the railing overlooking the expansive dance floor below. Duncan was making the rounds, getting a feel for the layout, and like Alex, he was making a mental note of faces, eliminating those that seemingly posed no threat. Their task was taxing, because there were a lot of bodies squeezed throughout, and the techno music blasting from various speakers was numbing Alex’s eardrums and getting on his nerves. He felt that being forced to listen to techno music and its repetitive beat was a lot like being brainwashed. He could deal with hip-hop, house music, rap, and of course his favorite, jazz, but techno made him want to bang his head against the wall.

Tobias Baum and his entourage had yet to appear, but Alex surmised a roped-off section was being reserved for his arrival. He hoped it would be sooner rather than later. The crowd was getting thicker by the minute, and faces were getting lost in the mix. The object was to stay close enough to observe without being exposed for taking too much of an interest. In this crowd, it didn’t take much effort to locate Duncan. He stood above the rest, and his physical frame demanded and created space. The only other people in the club even close to his stature were the various bouncers, and upon Duncan’s arrival, they gave each other a “If I need you, come running in a hurry” acknowledgment. Duncan and Alex had arrived together, bypassing the long line that had formed at the entrance. One perk of being a current or former professional athlete was that all you usually had to do was produce your league-issued player’s identification card and clubs around the globe honored your presence by not making you wait in line. They arrived shortly after twelve thirty. The club had been open for an hour and wouldn’t shut down until around six in the morning. Alex had to give Brussels one thing. People here knew how to party.

Based on information from Baum’s bodyguard, the black market dealer was expected to make his entrance between one and one thirty. The meeting with Davis Lipton was scheduled to take place shortly thereafter.

“Anything?” Alex was forced to scream as Duncan sidled up beside him, handing Alex a rum and Coke in the process.

“Nope. Not unless the cloak-and-dagger set is hiring juniors and seniors in high school. Are we getting old or what?”

Alex smiled. “Speak for yourself.”

“Ah, if memory serves me right, didn’t you graduate two years before me?”

“I did, which only goes to prove the disappointment and resentment you must feel because I still have such a youthful appearance.”

“I’ll give you a run for your money any day.”

“Let’s save that run for another day,” Alex said, directing Duncan’s attention with a nod toward a slight commotion below.

The time was 1:14. Even for a criminal, there was something to be said for being punctual. Two bouncers from the club led the way, making passage for Baum and his bodyguards. Craftson was positioned in front of Baum, while the other bodyguard, Reynolds, protected his rear. The young crowd being shoved aside was slightly annoyed but wisely didn’t protest. Alex had guessed right. Baum, who carried a laptop bag, was led to the area marked “private” on the second level. Craftson handed one of the bouncers a sizeable tip. As he left, the bouncer got the attention of a waitress. He delivered instructions in her ear, turning his head in Baum’s direction as he did so. Alex and Duncan took all this in, just about twenty feet away from where Baum was stationed. The section provided security in that it was set back from the ebb and flow, and his bodyguards could see in every direction. It also offered the appearance of innocence, suggesting nothing outwardly sinister could happen in such a public place. It was a sure bet that Craftson and his partner were carrying sidearms. If the bouncers had protested, citing club policy, Craftson would have insisted. The tip went a long way toward relaxing the rules. The waitress who’d been stopped by the bouncer made her way to Baum’s section, armed now with a chilled bottle of champagne and several glasses on a serving tray. She popped the cork and poured Baum a glass, not bothering to offer the same to his protection. A numbing five more minutes expired with nothing out of the ordinary taking place. It was a waiting game more than ever now. The young bodies on display were full of vigor and noise. There were no arthritic knees, calcium deposits, contusions, or concussions gyrating in this crowd, though Alex noted some danced like they might be suffering from some sort of ailment. He peeked at his watch, annoyed that it read 1:34. Through the thickening of people, he could still see Baum was waiting, a pleasant smile on his face as two young ladies in extremely short skirts tried to pique his interest.

BOOK: Sandstorm
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