Sun of the Sleepless (36 page)

Kappel nodded and the screen suddenly went blank.

Jolene stood and rested her fingertips on the surface of the polished table. She coughed slightly as she gathered her thoughts.

'Right gentlemen, let's get packing, we have a trip to Germany ahead of us.'

Saturday night's alright -

Gertrude Verker was uncomfortable to say the least; she was also confused and very frightened. She did not quite know when she had woken up but she was beginning to realise that she was no longer asleep. In many respects, her current situation was entirely surreal as she looked up at the benignly smiling and cherubic face of the man sitting on the bench next to her position on the floor of the van they were travelling in. She tried to focus, becoming aware of the diesel engine rattling and feeling the rhythm of the van as it swayed in a cross-wind, but she had no idea where she was, where she was going or even how she had come to be here.

'Not far now!' the man said in Dutch as he beamed down at her. His tone of voice was that of a friendly uncle telling his young niece that they were nearing an amusement theme park after a long tiresome drive filled with anticipation.

Gertrude screwed her eyes shut and blinked them rapidly, trying to work out what was happening. Her mind was still groggy but she could just about recollect being in her apartment and seeing two people enter. She was not sure whether she knew them or not, she could only recall them helping her, as if she had fainted, talking to her gently as she made the effort to stand and walk. There had been a fight. She remembered a struggle and could momentarily and rather vividly recall the sofa almost tipping over as she jumped up onto it.

The guy from the American embassy, Dale, he had been strangled, but she could not see the face of the man who had done it. He had been big, ominous, but it seemed like a dream. Surely they had been calm and helpful? There had been a woman who had cared for her. Had she been a nurse? Everything was so jumbled up.

Gertrude managed to sit up and cumbersomely scrabbled back, pushing with the heels of her feet until her shoulders cracked against the metal partition of the driver's cab. Looking about her once again, she finally realised that she was not dreaming any longer. She was back in reality and it was very definitely a reality of the worst kind. She was aware that her hands had been tied behind her back and could feel a thin sharp strap biting into her wrists.

She looked down at her ankles and saw a thick black plastic zip-tie locking her feet together. As she manoeuvred slightly, she stretched out her legs flat against the floor of the van to keep her knees and shins together, it had not taken much for her to realise that any other position only made the plastic tie dig into her skin through her socks. She looked across and saw her fluffy slippers on the bench next to the man.

Noticing her glance, the man smiled down at her as he cocked his head at the slippers.

'No need to worry, we'll sort out some proper shoes for you. You won't have to wear these the whole time, although they do look very comfortable.'

He grinned widely and even chuckled.

Gertrude tried to speak and only then realised how much her jaw ached. She also discovered that she could not actually move her mouth, even her tongue felt compressed. As she concentrated on the reactions of the muscles of her face, she understood that something was stuffed into her mouth; a small plastic ball of some kind was locked behind her teeth and preventing her from closing her jaw. The corners of her lips were smarting as some kind of cord bit into the flesh.

It took a moment or two for her to comprehend that she was wearing a fetish ball-gag and in an instant, her level of panic spiked to a new high and her eyes widened in fear as she involuntarily wriggled causing her body to jerk and twist.

The man suddenly looked aghast.

'You must calm down, you are not in danger, I am not going to hurt you. You are safe I promise you.'

She looked up into his dark teal eyes and saw concern, she was confused again. He looked kindly, helpful, the sort of older man that you could always rely on, a favourite uncle.

'Here, let me take that gag off. I am so sorry, I didn't want you to wake up and start screaming, I will take it off but you must be calm, I am not going to hurt you.'

Gertrude looked dead-pan at the man's face, only able to convey facial communication through the expression of her eyes. He smiled again and nodded to ask for assent as he reached out toward the back of her head. He stopped and paused as she sat transfixed, trying to rationalise the situation but coming to no level of understanding that could explain her present situation.

She slowly tilted her head forwards and then felt the man start to fumble with the buckle of the strap that held the gag in place.

'Easy does it, open up and spit it out.'

As the gag was released she opened her mouth wide to let the ball slip out past her teeth and felt the jaw bone crack at both ears as a result of the exertion. She gently closed her mouth and the dull ache that had pervaded her cheeks and neck gradually dissipated as she started to contort her face in a series of gurning poses to get some blood flowing.

'You'll feel fine in a minute or so, I am sorry about that, at least you had a good sleep though, eh?'

The man seemed genuinely apologetic but his impish demeanour flooded Gertrude with a rush of anger.

'Who are you?' she barked. 'Where are you taking me?'

Her guardian ignored her questions and reached under his bench seat, withdrawing a small rucksack before delving into it and rustling about.

'You must be thirsty, here, I have some water, carbonated or still? The seals are still intact as you can see, you must not worry that the water is drugged.'

Gertrude exhaled impatiently and pursed her lips.

'What am I doing here?' She suddenly remembered the book from the museum,
Dirigo Lux
; this had to be something to do with the gang that had stolen it. Maybe they had taken her for a ransom? Maybe they wanted to get the book back? None of it made sense. Why kidnap her?

The man shook a water bottle in anticipation of her reply. She considered that he was not about to hurt her but she did not want to provoke him, besides, her throat was really dry.

'Still water,' she stated matter of factly.

The man twisted the cap off and held the bottle out, waiting for Gertrude to cock her head so that he could trickle water into her mouth. Reluctantly, she tilted her head back and jutted her bottom jaw out.

'Good,' the man said, 'now if you will be patient we will have you in a comfortable room within half and hour. You will be well fed and cared for I assure you. In a week or so you will be back at home and none the worse for the experience.'

Suckling at the bottle of water, Gertrude was starting to consider whether she really was awake, the situation was once again too surreal for her to take in. She looked up into the man's face and gulped another mouthful, thinking about how she would get herself out of this situation.

Sitting in the driver's seat of his battered Peugeot 206 parked on the driveway of his home, Inspector Pieter van Riel watched the windows slowly mist up as his vaporous breath condensed on contact with the cold air of the interior. His hands gripped the steering wheel but he made no attempt to start the engine and drive away.

Earlier in the evening he had peremptorily submitted a leave request, the application being delivered at very short notice and in truth, not yet agreed. Normally, such a request would need to be counter-signed by Chief Inspector Visser before it was permitted; however, Pieter had hurriedly completed the necessary paperwork and exited the office without waiting for a response.

He knew that Visser would come to one of two conclusions. The simplest assessment would be that Pieter had taken some time off to cool down over the order to leave the investigation of Gertrude Verker's abduction to the Americans. It was clear that he vehemently disagreed with the wholly political decision to defer the case and the logical conclusion would be that he perhaps needed to let off some steam with a short period of absence.

Alternatively, Visser almost certainly knew his men well enough to guess that Pieter's conscience would not allow him to simply abandon the case and that he had decided to take matters into his own hands. If the Chief Inspector came to the latter conclusion, Pieter was pretty sure that he probably would not do much about stopping him - in spite of his insistence on dropping the case, his Chief did not like the brackish order that had been dripped from on high either.

Arriving home, Pieter had explained the situation to his wife who reacted incredulously. Firstly, she could not believe that such a thing could happen to a Dutch citizen in The Hague itself, the political capital of The Netherlands. Secondly, she could not believe that Pieter was now risking his career and possibly his life to disobey orders and undertake what could very well turn out to be an extremely dangerous search for the girl.

After making a few calls to his various police connections to expand on the intelligence that he had previously received regarding the two vehicles used in the abduction, he had decided that Germany was the first place to check. His wife had exuded antipathy as she stood over him, scowling as he packed a small suitcase for a few days away from home.

Having explained to his children that he needed to go away for a few days to help in the search for a young woman, he had finally loaded up the Peugeot and made to kiss his wife goodbye. She had stood at the front door to their home, arms crossed and a sullen frown on her face, hardly accepting the snatched peck on her cheek that Pieter managed to deliver in spite of her angry demeanour. He had silently slipped behind the wheel of the car and gently clicked the door shut but made no motion to start the engine and drive away.

After a few moments, a knock on the driver's door window startled him and he turned to see his wife standing there, he quickly wound the window down and stared up at her. After a brief hesitation, she wordlessly leaned into the car and hugged him tightly, kissing him lovingly on the lips.

'Be safe,' she whispered, 'you're a good man Pieter van Riel. Find her and bring her back to her family.'

Pieter smiled and closed his eyes as he nodded to her in unspoken gratitude for her final seal of approval. As she stepped back from the car, he started the engine, notched into gear and edged out onto the road to slowly drive away.

Within ten minutes of take-off, the Cessna 208 carrying Rey and Akosua had reached the desired cruising altitude of three thousand metres and within half an hour it was making one hundred and seventy-four knots over the oily black waters of the English Channel as it headed for Colchester, England. The formalities of organising the flight had been relatively simply, the aircraft was actually registered to a freight company owned by one of the business interests that their Order administered in the course of managing its financial affairs; it certainly was not necessary to rely on hoards of fabled treasure in order to maintain a healthy operating profit.

Rey had already regaled Akosua with Senator Dru's frank admission and he was rather surprised that she had taken it so well; he had half expected her to react angrily but she seemed to inherently understand the need to use them both as bait in the operation to ensnare the US Intelligence Services. He thought back to earlier in the week, when he had considered that he was going 'soft' and ruminated on her hard nosed acceptance of the reality of events.

'It's actually a bit of a relief,' she said, 'it just seemed so embarrassingly amateur to have them stolen, it makes much more sense that the book and ring were deliberately fed to the Americans.'

Rey pursed his lips and nodded as he considered her appraisal.

'It wouldn't be the first time we've had a major fuck-up though. I've seen some crazy things happen over the years!' he growled.

'Yeah, but this all makes sense, we get our people under cover in the US and we can keep tabs on everything they are doing. I'm actually glad that we have played such an important role.'

Rey snorted slightly, cynically amused at Akosua's apparent eagerness to become an international fugitive for the sake of their faux mission.

'You're already nominated for promotion, you don't have to kiss arse any longer.'

She looked angrily at him for a moment before shrugging at the rebuke.

'Well, whatever you say, I think it is a good thing. Anything that gives us an edge has to be good.'

Contemplating that his own fervour and zealotry had gradually withered over the last decade, Rey simply smiled at Akosua and chose not to push the point any further.

'You're right, just ignore me. I'm thinking of other things.'

He looked over at the pilot and called out.

'How Long?'

'Half an hour,' the pilot shouted back over his shoulder.

'I'll give you a five minute warning.'

Rey looked at Akosua and lightly tapped one of her knees.

'Come on, let's get the gear on, we'll be chugging up the M11 within the hour and we don't want to miss that do we? Besides, from this point on, we need to be ready for anything!'

Two identical black Audis stood on the incline of the exit ramp leading from the underground car-park beneath the US Embassy building. Tickets for a commercial flight to Frankfurt in Germany had been booked and Jolene was eager to get going, glancing at her watch as she hung over the front passenger door of the lead car. As Dale sauntered out with a suitcase in hand, she pointed to her car and jerked her head at him.