Nick shook hands with the tall, butch cut, officer gratefully. “Thank you for being here. This was… getting a little out of hand.”
Nick’s reply was accepted without question. It led to Dafar’s escort out of the lounge, but also engendered a different kind of confrontation. More folks than not had read Nick’s novels. Until Dafar had identified him as a novelist, many amongst the patrons had not recognized him. He learned he had fans wherever he went, who stayed quiet because his picture wasn’t a billboard in public places. It was a factor to be thankful for in Nick’s opinion, but also a potential problem.
A line of people, including some with his latest novel they had just purchased at the airport, ‘Caribbean Contract’, jostled for a spot in front of him. Nick signed autographs and personal requests with an author’s enjoyment of meeting reader fans he could not interact with otherwise. Rachel, Jean, Gus, and Tina answered questions about Nick. The fans got their autographs with much more of a personal exchange than simply Nick’s signature. He thanked each of them, taking time individually without hurrying anyone along. A few commented on the confrontation with Dafar. Nick explained his real life meeting with Dafar on a flight overseas only now was hazily coming back to him. He recounted the flight with Dafar in entertaining terms which amused and appeased his listeners.
A slightly under six foot tall, dark suited black man with short cut hair waited until Nick’s impromptu signing was over before approaching. He held out his hand in greeting. Nick shook the firm grip, but looked questioningly at the man.
“Do you have something you’d like me to sign?”
“My name is Paul Gilbrech, Nick. We’ve talked on the phone recently. That was a marvelous piece of acting. You had to have enjoyed your little spoof immensely. I wonder what would have happened if the security officers hadn’t arrived when they did. In any case, my congratulations in executing a nearly flawless interaction.”
“Thanks, Paul,” Nick said, revealing nothing of his feelings on the start of an op, where he had indeed used his family as a backdrop for what he had planned. “This is my family – my wife Rachel, Jean my daughter, Gus, my brother by another mother, and Tina his fiancé.”
Gilbrech shook hands with each of them. “I am pleased to meet all of you. May I borrow Nick for a moment?”
“Sure, take him, Paul,” Rachel said. “I never met Nick’s old boss, Frank, until shortly before his untimely death. I hope we’ll have a longer relationship with you.”
It was many moments before Gilbrech was coherent enough to wave Nick over with him to a more private spot. “Good one… Rachel. Thank you.”
The two men walked off together to a more secluded part of the lounge. With plane flights leaving, the lounge crowd ebbed and flowed with the flight departures.
“I’m surprised you decided to fly into New York, Paul.”
“I have confirmation on Dafar’s room at the Trump International. He did indeed take one with a view of Central Park.” Gilbrech handed a small USB drive over to Nick. “Besides, I wanted to see what you would do with the VIP lounge time in person. It was an entertaining gimmick.”
“Thanks for finding out his exact arrival time, and the place he likes to frequent. It worked out well for the future. I have a plan in mind to cover the contract, but with this public confrontation, it helps my setup.” Nick tried reading the smiling face in front of him with no luck. “You are either as you seem, or one hell of an actor.”
“I won’t sugar coat this. If I am to stay in this position, I have to produce results. I put my eggs in your basket. You seem to like the more direct approach, so here I am.”
“I admit it’s a refreshing change from the now deceased Frank Richert. I appreciate the hands on approach. We can surely avoid a lot of misunderstandings this way, but I don’t like your chances in the hierarchy with this managerial style, Paul. I think I’d like to have you around, so it might be a good idea to low key your presence.”
Gilbrech nodded, jamming his hands into his pockets. “CIA is a mess right now, Nick. Leaks have become a day after day nuisance… a killing nuisance. I opened the files on you from that rogue outfit Frank ran. You produced results. I want that to continue. You already know what would happen if anyone found out the CIA backed sanctions on USA soil. We need that option more now than at any time in the past. If I find someone who may be undermining everything this country depends on for its existence, I’m not calling the cops to ‘bring him or her to justice’. I would like to call you, give over all factual data, and then back you strategically.”
“That’s some risky business you have on your dance card, Paul. I’m in, but only as long as you can stay in charge. We lose contact, and I’m ending the Company connection.”
Paul stuck his hand out. “Deal.”