“There’s nothing anyone can do about that. On the bright side, tomorrow will mark your last thread in this to handle. By tomorrow night, you’ll be back home in Pacific Grove.”
“I don’t like to think too far ahead, Clyde. We won’t be meeting in a controlled area as we did with Collister. Underestimating these bastards is a mistake. We take no chances. We go in armed with Kevlar on. I don’t know what to expect with this ambassador. In a way, I’m happy we’re not doing this at the Algerian Embassy. Having him die as we’re heading out the door of a foreign embassy would be bad. I’m beginning to think my idea stinks but I don’t have a better one. Maybe Paul should have given me a long range option rather than accept my advice.”
“This doesn’t sound like you, Nick,” Clyde said.
“He sounds like the same cold blooded killer to me,” Phil said from the backseat.
Nick looked around at Phil with a grin. “Ever been dragged on the end of a chain from a moving car, Phil?”
“Ah… no.”
“If you don’t want to have that experience you’d better practice your comfortable silences until I get you back home.”
“Understood.”
*
“You guys actually look like soldiers,” Phil said as Nick and Clyde slipped into the backseat of the government vehicle Ken had procured with Phil.
“Phil… remember our talk yesterday?”
“Oh… ah… sure. Sorry.”
Both men wore military holsters with .45 caliber Colts. They were again dressed as Pentagon military messengers, Nick wearing his major’s outfit and Clyde a sergeant’s uniform. Nick carried the briefcase from which he would be doing a briefing for Ben Sahroaoui, the Algerian ambassador.
“This warehouse on 2nd Street – do you know anything about it, Ken?”
“I checked. It’s a dead end where the warehouse is located. Do you really think we needed a bullet proof vehicle?”
“Better to have one and not need it,” Nick answered. “I thought he’d pick a restaurant or an apartment somewhere. He was briefed to expect an accounting of the Algerian threads we’ve found connecting Omar Fontaine, Senator Cameron, and the six missing Algerians. Paul said he was very receptive to the meeting, but wanted it far from the embassy for supposed security measures.”
“They could have an army there,” Clyde said.
“Not if Sahroaoui really is doing this on his own. If he has the Algerian government behind his actions they wouldn’t want to execute official American envoys on American soil. Paul said our directions were to meet his men outside the warehouse where they would check our credentials. We will then be escorted inside for a short meeting with the ambassador.”
Nick put the equipment bag between them and opened it. “Check your weapon. Ken will be nearby with the car. If anything goes wrong, we retreat to the car for something more lethal.”
Clyde retrieved one of the MP5’s from the bag, checking it over with professional expertise as Nick did the same. “It would seem if anything goes wrong, we’ll be dead.”
“That’s very negative of you, Clyde,” Nick admonished. “Agent Carter will be right here with extra weapons and a bulletproof retreat car. We’ll be golden.”
“Do I have to be here for this?”
“Yes, Phil,” Nick answered. “If we need a human shield your presence will be very important.”
“That’s not funny!”
“You didn’t bring the grenade did you?”
Silence.
“C’mon, Nick. When you told me what you did to Fontaine I thought it was a cute ploy, mostly because I wasn’t with you. I’m not sure I care for you having a grenade with us in a closed space.”
“I’ll leave it in the equipment bag.”
“Thank you.”
*
Ken drove in a semicircle past the warehouse entrance where two men in suits stood with hands clasped in front of them. The humid morning air and darkening skies heralded a rainy morning. Ken stopped the vehicle with the hood pointed the way they had entered the parking lot for a quick exit. He turned to Nick.
“Is this okay?”
“Yep.” Nick watched the men in front for a moment. They appeared detached and uninterested. “It looks okay. Paul negotiated for us that this Ben Sahraoui would come to the entrance so we can identify him. If he doesn’t show his face we leave.
A few minutes later, one of the men turned to the entrance and opened the door. A clean shaven man in his mid-forties with balding head and portly appearance walked outside, peering at the car. He wore black pants and gray short sleeved shirt. He stood in plain sight for a moment and then walked back inside.
“That was him,” Nick said. “I don’t know what all this extra crap is about. He could have simply walked out to our car, let me give him the brief from our poisoned case, and then went back inside to die. No one likes simple anymore.”
“Only you would say something like that, Nick.”