Sandstorm (10 page)

Thanks to information supplied by Neville, Nora and Alex now sat outdoors at a Brussels restaurant along the Rue des Bouchers. They were just an attractive couple enjoying a leisurely mid-day meal. Five tables away were Tobias Baum and a bodyguard. The reddish, brick-paved street was for pedestrian travel only, and the myriad restaurant choices lining both sides attracted a constant stream of foot traffic. They provided ample cover for Alex and Nora. Apron-clad waiters selling their various establishments to passersby provided further distraction. Across the narrow street inside another restaurant, Duncan kept watch through a window seat. His vantage point allowed him greater visibility of the entire street, and he labored through the process of trying to check out every person who crossed his sight line. It was Duncan who’d alerted Alex that in all likelihood, Baum was about to have company, and true to Duncan’s observational skills, two men had walked up and joined the German.

So far, Alex had to hand it to Baum. Certainly wealthy way beyond his life expectancy, Baum either understood innately or had come to learn that not drawing too much attention to one’s self in his line of work eliminated a lot of trouble. Others, more paranoid or bent on displaying their self-importance, would surround themselves with a small, attention-grabbing entourage. Alex, Nora, and Duncan had concluded that Baum’s regular detail consisted only of two men. One pretty much stayed within reaction distance, serving as both protector and companion. Alex took detailed notes in his mind about the man. How he moved, on which side did he carry his firearm, were there any physical ailments he was trying to cover, like a bad knee? Did his muscular frame reduce his quickness, thus making him more apt to use a weapon than his hands or feet? The other bodyguard either trailed a safe distance behind or took a position ahead of the pair to make sure the horizon was clear of hidden danger. There had been no incidents that might have offered the opportunity to judge their readiness or skill level, but given Baum’s wealth and penchant for the finer things in life, it was likely that the bodyguards were among the best in the business. Alex knew that in Afghanistan and Iraq, there was a serious market for men of such expertise. In order to protect its fragile but valued interests, the US often recommended the services of ex-military specialists as personal bodyguards. The clients sometimes balked at the specialists’ hefty fee, but they soon acquiesced when the realities of survival took over. Though the bodyguards were outsiders, they were at least men that could be trusted. Their political and religious beliefs aside, they worshipped the proper execution of their job and the almighty dollar. Those bodyguards sat with Baum at the table, preparing to eat lunch. A smart man would go one step further and make the task of protecting him more than just about the money. From all appearances, Baum didn’t treat them like pieces of furniture. The personal touch could go a long way toward extending how far his protectors were willing to stick their necks out.

The fourth occupant at the table was a new face, and though Alex couldn’t hear the conversation, he concluded it was a business meeting of some sort. Judging from the seemingly relaxed nature of everyone, and from Baum’s moments of short laughter, it must be familiar business.

Nora sat with most of her back angled to Baum’s table. She also donned fashionable dark sunglasses that covered a large portion of her face. Her hair was tied back and mostly tucked beneath a hat bearing the logo “FFF”: France’s national soccer team. There wasn’t much conversation taking place at the table. Duncan felt compelled to speak through his Bluetooth device.

“Hey you two, you’re supposed to be a romantic couple enjoying each other’s company on a beautiful day in which love is in the air,” Duncan offered, finding it impossible to contain a smirk. “Come on, chat it up. Hold hands.”

Nora took the ribbing to heart, forming a guilty smile. Alex, assured that Duncan was watching, ran his hand along the side of his face as if wiping something away, retracting four fingers, leaving only the middle digit to scratch away.

“Nice,” Duncan replied. “Such class.”

Alex returned his attention to the menu. He had no idea whether Baum planned on staying for any length of time. So far, his table had only ordered drinks, but they all did look at menus.

The plan was simple enough. If Baum left, Duncan would exit his location and maintain surveillance at a safe distance, giving Alex and Nora time to pay for their food, finished or not, in a seemingly relaxed manner. They would then catch up with Duncan and broaden the tail. Discovering if Baum kept any semblance of a regular schedule would be vital to whatever action they might have to take later. Was there a good place to neutralize or separate the bodyguards, should it be necessary? Other than sleeping, did Baum ever require personal time? Was there a lover? If so, perhaps her place would be an ideal location to make a move on him. Alex did at least know any lover would be a woman, even though less than thirty-six hours ago, he’d never heard of Tobias Baum. It was the kind of detail anyone could acquire, given a little diligence, but Alex had not needed that diligence: Neville had been courteous enough to send Alex an e-mail that contained a condensed, somewhat sanitized bio of Baum. Neville had sensed Alex’s hourglass had a rather wide opening, so he had decided to provide a little headache relief. And whether the bio was sanitized or not, Alex knew how to read between the lines and connect the dots.

It was apparent Baum was a major supplier. A vast majority of merchandise was steady and legitimate through his shipping business, while other transactions were off the books. The former kept him in good standing with authorities, the latter kept him on the lips of governments around the world who either sought to improve their territorial position or maintain influence afar covertly. Alex would bet good money the US had, from one time or another, used Baum’s services, and judging from Neville’s immediate knowledge, Britain probably had as well. The death of Baum’s associate, as Neville hinted, was probably a strong message sent by Israel. The question was, would a guy like Baum back down, or would he use the threat to up his payday from potential buyers? The selling point would be, “I’m taking a huge risk for you. I can deliver, despite your enemies’ pressure and watchful eyes. How badly do you one day want to be able to stand up for yourself?” That kind of comfort and risk-taking was expensive.

Baum’s lunch engagement lasted long enough for everyone to finish their modest orders. Sticking to the plan, when one of Baum’s bodyguards departed, Duncan did too, retrieving the nondescript rental car. He stayed hidden around the corner until Baum’s Mercedes had arrived to pick him up. It was only a matter of minutes before Baum, the remaining bodyguard, and Baum’s lunch guest walked to the waiting vehicle. Shortly after the three were whisked away, Duncan came into view, keeping a safe distance behind.

Alex and Nora remained seated for at least another five minutes before settling the bill. There could be an extra set of eyes checking to see if anyone was interested in Baum’s departure, though Alex doubted it and didn’t pick up on anything. In no apparent rush, Alex and Nora walked to their car and drove off, guided by Duncan’s notifications.

Though he didn’t want to give in to it, deep down inside, Alex could feel an old sensation slowly returning. It was a shot of adrenaline not present for quite some time.

Much to his disappointment, it was beginning to feel good.

CHAPTER
17

This part of his past Alex remembered all too well. Despite some technological advancement, not much had changed either. Sitting on a target, conducting surveillance, got boring pretty quickly.

For three days now, they had monitored Tobias Baum’s every move, with nothing to show for it. Nora gazed through the viewfinder of the digital SLR camera for the hundredth time. It was equipped with a powerful telephoto lens that was fixed on the Baum estate. She could clearly see arrivals at the security gate. Making identifications wasn’t terribly difficult, because all guests, once inside, had to pass through a large, extended glass hallway. Ordinarily, one would think a man like Baum would have just a tad of paranoia, but Alex guessed that the glass was probably bulletproof, and if privacy was needed, shades were available for concealment. A vast majority of the estate was strategically shielded from onlookers by tall trees. The back of the property was virtually impenetrable as it backed up to thick trees that were part of the 180-acre Woluwe Park.

The villa Alex, Nora, and Duncan occupied, courtesy of Neville Schofield, was nearly fifteen minutes outside the city center, nestled among numerous impressive flats and detached terraced houses in the Woluwe-Saint-Lambert municipality. It was apparent the British had had their own reasons for monitoring Baum on occasion, and rather than totally close up shop each time he left town, the villa remained operational should it become necessary to spy on him again. Much to Duncan’s delight, a sizeable amount of surveillance equipment was on hand as well. The living room window provided the best vantage on Baum’s estate. At night, the room stayed dark in case there were binoculars scanning the area for people like them. For three days, it was mundane, normal activity. When Baum’s car went rolling down the long driveway, Alex and Duncan were quick to follow. His destinations had been to his office in the city center, an antique store, an art gallery, and a couple of upscale bars one night. End of story. With that in mind, Alex hardly got excited when Nora announced, “Car approaching the gate.” Duncan, on the other hand, put down the novel he was reading and donned a pair of headphones, keeping his left ear exposed. On a predawn jog during the first day, Duncan had inconspicuously attached a tiny listening device next to the intercom at the entrance gate. It allowed him to hear the words being uttered from the occupant inside the car as it came to a stop outside the metal gate.

Looking at the meters move on his instrument panel, Duncan relayed what he heard. “A man named Davis to see Mr. Baum,” he stated. “They’re buzzing him in.”

Nora adjusted the binoculars’ magnification, following the car as it rolled toward the house. A single occupant exited, but he was cast in shadow as he made his way to the front entrance, which was opening upon his approach. A few steps inside and Nora would hopefully have at least a glimpse of “Davis.” He was patted down by a bodyguard as Baum approached from within the house. Nora could see a smile forming on Baum’s face as he extended a welcoming hand. After exchanging pleasantries, Baum motioned for his visitor to proceed down the hallway.

“Come on. Come on,” Nora whispered. “Give me a look.”

The visitor answered Nora’s plea when he turned his head toward the windows, admiring the overall craftsmanship and nerve of it all. Nora quickly adjusted the focus to get a clear, tight picture.

A firm press of her index finger snapped a series of pictures in rapid succession. She then released her finger and sat up firmly in her chair, the move made with such urgency it caught the attention of both Alex and Duncan. It was as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Motherfucker,” Nora said behind clenched teeth. Alex and Duncan looked at each other with puzzlement. Alex had to pretty much pry the camera from her hands in order to get a look. He only saw the backs of the two men as they disappeared from view. He looked to Nora for an explanation.

“What the hell was that about?”

She stayed silent in the darkness, the anger obvious from her demeanor. Alex set the camera to playback mode to see what she had captured. When Nora spoke, she shook her head toward the estate. “Lipton. Davis fucking Lipton. The asshole responsible for screwing Erica.”

Alex knew the story. Erica Janway had been chief of station in Moscow. Davis Lipton was reportedly a totally talentless prick placed on a fast track thanks entirely to family influence. He was someone Janway definitely had her doubts about. He wasn’t qualified enough to be under her supervision in such a vital and dangerous section of the world. But she was told he was there to stay. She understood why, but protested anyway. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, she did what she thought was the next best and most responsible thing. She made sure he didn’t get in harm’s way. That would ensure he wouldn’t get his stupid ass killed or, worse, get others who knew what they were doing killed.

Janway was eventually blindsided by allegations of harassment brought forth by him. Her drinking, although she was on the road to recovery, suddenly became a major area of concern. Men had been allowed to do it for decades, but for her, the game was not being played on the same field, and Lipton had benefactors. So, pending an investigation, she was called home from Moscow for desk duty at Langley. She felt her career was being flushed down the toilet by some little pissant who didn’t like being schooled, especially by a woman. Janway concluded the only recourse was to beat them to the plunger, so she filed a discrimination lawsuit. She had known she could kiss her career good-bye for sure at that point, but she wanted vindication before she walked out the front door.

Not wanting to risk the camera being tossed across the room, Alex placed it on the windowsill instead of handing it back to Nora. He placed a hand at the back of his neck. “And the hits just keep on coming,” he said, a slight strain in his voice. “Bryce Lipton’s son.”

Duncan removed the headphones. “Senator Lipton? The chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence? That Lipton?”

Nora stared into the distance. “Yes. Fucking yes.”

The room fell silent as the latest revelation was digested.

Alex finally spoke. “Nora, can you get your hands on ten grand by tomorrow afternoon?”

She stared at him, wondering what the hell he was thinking. She also noted there was a calmness about him which slightly put her at ease.

“Time to get some answers,” he said. “Can you get the money?”

“Yes, I can.”

CHAPTER
18

Day was politely giving way to night. The sunset was worth a thousand snapshots, and yet, as breathtaking as it was, it couldn’t come close to the beauty of the little girl in a floral dress. Her eyes were bright ovals of hazel, full of innocence and playfulness. Her golden hair was neatly combed, and her spotless yellow shoes were prized possessions, along with the freckled doll she snuggled. She had hardly touched her meal, but much to the large party’s delight, she was proving to be a perfect angel. Besides, she had other interests. She playfully peeked around her mother’s shoulder with those big eyes, only to disappear quickly, reemerging slowly once again. She had the stranger hooked. At first, he pretended not to notice, but that would be like avoiding an exploding star streaking across the night sky.