Terror Bounty (10 page)

Rick’s mind was made up. Enough
dithering, he’d made the decision while in the shower. He was packing up and
going home.

At first, he thought that it was the
short night that was screwing with his judgment. He hadn’t slept much between
the cloak and dagger stuff and the great time he’d had with Olivia. But when he
was under the showerhead, letting the warm water regrettably washing off her
sent, it became clear.

He wasn’t made for this crap. He’d given
it a shot, he’d tried hard, but it was a job for somebody else. He didn’t have
the training and he sure as shit didn’t have the instincts. He was nothing but
an amateur.

The worst part was that Uncle Peter had
been right. He had warned him and Rick hadn’t listened. He’d been right about
him always giving up, too. But why was that a bad thing? Life was too short to
do something you didn’t like, he repeated to himself. Wasn’t it a quality to
recognize your shortcomings and cutting your losses?

Damn right it was! He hadn’t finished law
school because he didn’t want to invest too much time and money into something
that wouldn’t work out. Same thing with his jobs. It was smart, Rick judged.

And it was smart to give up this stupid
manhunt.

He wasn’t made to be a bounty hunter and
in hindsight he’d been dumb to even consider it. What had he gotten for his
troubles? He’d met a scary Russian mobster and had gotten beaten up by an arms
dealer’s goon. So far he’d spent roughly $2,000. He could live with that, he
still had some savings to tide him over until he found another job.

The more he thought about it and the more
he felt at ease with his decision. He brushed his teeth and considered the day
ahead. He would book a flight home, get a nice breakfast, and the whole thing
would be a fun anecdote to tell at parties.

If he spun it right, he’d get all the
girls he could handle. He’d give his buddy Titus, a bona fide Navy SEAL, a run
for his money.

His phone rang. He hurriedly rinsed his mouth
and left the bathroom to answer.

“Hello?”

“Was she good?”

It was Hertz and Rick was angry at the
reminder that it wasn’t completely over yet.

“You’re beginning to freak me the fuck out,
you know that?”

“What? It’s not like I have a camera in
your room or anything. She enters your room at one, leaves at 4:30. You don’t
have to be a
Jeopardy!
winner to add things up.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Why am I even on
the phone right now?”

He removed the towel from around his
waist and went to his suitcase to select fresh clothes.

“You guys in business?” Hertz asked.

“No. I’m quitting.”

“You’re what?!”

“I’m giving up, I’m jumping ship,
whatever you want to call it. I’m going home.”

“We had a deal you and me, Rick.”

“Yes and the deal was you got to follow
me as I tracked down the guy. I’m not doing this anymore so the deal is null
and void.”

There was a pause. Hertz was thinking.

Seething.

“This is unacceptable.”

“Tough shit, I’m obviously out of my
league here. It was never gonna work out, I understand that now.”

“No, Rick. That’s exactly why it is going
to work, you convinced me of that. You can still do it. I have confidence.”

“And I don’t. Bye now, I have a flight to
catch.”

Hertz’s voice became sharper. “Be
careful, kid. I’ve been using the carrot so far. Don’t force me to use the
stick.”

“You’re threatening me?”

“I’m doing my job. You know what lengths
I can go to and I would prefer you didn’t force me to go there. So far we had a
nice collaboration you and me. It was mutually beneficial. It doesn’t have to
change but it will if you back out.”

Rick dropped his clothes on the bed. It
didn’t take a genius to understand the implications. The CIA was famous for
discrediting people. He’d never be able to get a job, there could be
allegations of terrible misdeeds following him for the rest of his life.

If he wasn’t sent outright to a CIA black
site where he would disappear forever.

“Look,” Rick began, knowing his options
were speedily vanishing. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m not good at
this.”

“You’re doing great, the key is the girl.
Keep up with her and she’ll lead you to our man. Did you tell her about the
book you’re writing?”

Rick felt like laughing, people still
seemed to believe that scheme. “You think I should tell her? You think it might
work?”

“Yeah, tell her the truth.”

“How do I find her again, go to the
antique shop? The way she left, I don’t think she ever meant to see me again.”

“You’re in luck,” Hertz said. “Looks like
she has a day job. I have an address. You have something to write on?”

Rick groaned. He wasn’t flying home
today.

It was with extreme reluctance that Rick
didn’t give up after all. He focused on the money that was at stake. With the
$4 million reward, he could afford to soldier on just a little bit longer.

Finding the willpower was a lot easier
when you weighed the likelihood of becoming a millionaire.

He took a taxi to the address Hertz had
given him. It was a small restaurant, rather ordinary actually. It was
definitely not the secret lair Rick had expected. And it was even more benign
once he got inside. There were dozens of people having breakfast, the staff
walking swiftly back and forth to please customers.

The maître d’ led him to a table and once
he was seated he started to go over the menu. Again, this was your average
urban restaurant. Eggs Benedict, cheese omelets, sausage links, fresh fruit.
There was no meat from endangered species as one would expect from a
megalomaniac criminal mastermind.

Then he saw her in the flesh.

Olivia was wearing the black and white uniform
of a waitress and she was going from one table to another, serving coffee. He
could tell she was overworked by the way she moved, like she was juggling four
chainsaws.

“
Goedemorgen
,” she said without
even looking at him. “
Koffie?
”

“Morning, Olivia.”

This stopped her cold and she looked at
her customer. Her face fell.

“Ah, bloody hell. You don’t want my
number, do you?”

Rick chuckled. “You wish.”

“Do you want coffee or not?”

“Sure.”

She poured him a cup. “How did you find
me?”

“I’m not totally incompetent,” he said. “I
have my sources. Now it’s my turn to have a question for you: what are you
doing serving coffee? Aren’t you a big-time…” he lowered his voice. “Aren’t you
a big-time weapons smuggler?”

“I own this restaurant.”

Rick frowned. “Your cover, your front
company?”

“My restaurant. Waitress called in sick
and here I am. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to come clean.”

A businessman at the next table waved to
her, obviously in caffeine withdrawal. She saw him but didn’t budge.

“I’m busy, Rick. Can you come clean in
under 15 seconds?”

“Okay, here’s the whole truth about why I’m
here, why I made contact with you. I’m trying to find Greenwood for the reward
money. My government’s willing to pay four million for his capture.”

“What’s this got to do with me?”

“You mean besides the fact that you’re my
only lead?”

“Yeah, besides that.”

Rick had debated whether to keep going
with his cover story or actually opening his hand. In the end, he opted for the
truth.

“I want you to take me to the place you
guys deliver his weapons. I’ll split the reward with you, fifty-fifty.”

The nearby customer waved at Olivia over
again, this time raising his empty cup in the air. Her eyes darted between him
and Rick, lost in thought.

“Well, what do you think?” the American asked.

“Just a moment.”

She walked away fast. The businessman
raised his cup once more, happy that he would at long last get fresh coffee,
but she walked right past him.

“Hey!”

Rick sampled his coffee as he watched
Olivia go – it tasted horrible. She dropped off her coffee pot and she found a
quiet corner.

She pulled out her phone and made a call.
She talked for a minute, then listened for a long time, nodding and giving
one-word answers no one could make out.

Olivia returned, not forgetting to pick
up the coffee pot on the way. She set it down in front of the pestering
businessman before reaching Rick’s table.

“Four million?” she asked. “Dollars?”

“Two million for you. You help, we find
him, I make sure he gets arrested, and we split the money.”

She considered the situation for ten more
seconds before nodding.

“All right, I’ll do it. I have some
things to do first though.” She scribbled on her pad and handed him the note. “Gather
all your belongings and meet me at my apartment in two hours.”

“Great. How much for the coffee?”

She winced. “I can’t pay you more than a
quid.”

~  ~  ~  ~

Rick didn’t quite know how he felt as he
took a cab from his hotel to Olivia’s apartment. He’d started the day wanting
to give up, then he’d been mad at being coerced into continuing on this crazy
adventure. And now? He had to admit he had butterflies in his stomach.

There was something to be said about not
being alone anymore. If Olivia joined in on this quest – and he had every
reason to believe she was dangerous and likely to double-cross him at any given
moment – he’d still have someone to share the burden with. It didn’t seem so
daunting anymore.

In the back of his head was a little
voice that told him to be careful, that she shouldn’t be trusted. After all,
she was a criminal and had had her muscle beat him up. That wasn’t something Girl
Scouts did.

Nevertheless, he felt that the night he’d
spent with her counted for something. Sure, it had been meant as meaningless
sex but it was in this intimacy that you could evaluate somebody’s character.
Olivia might have made a bad career choice, she might do bad things for a
living, but he didn’t think she was a bad person.

If something was going to be devious in
this operation with her, Rick decided, it would be her trying to steal the reward
money for herself. She was goal-oriented, she had that drive. Until they got
results, he didn’t think he had anything to fear from her.

With this established, he started to
elaborate a plan to keep her from stealing his money. Maybe he could get Uncle
Peter to help arrange for the FBI to pay with two separate checks so she couldn’t
steal his share. Yeah, that made sense.

The one thing that worried him was how
convoluted the situation was. He was tracking down an international terrorist,
knowing that the CIA was watching his back, and at the same time he was getting
helped by an arms dealer. It was crazy, there were too many moving parts in
this plan for it to go without a hitch.

But that was out of his hands.

He sank into his seat and watched the
scenery. Amsterdam was a beautiful city. It was clean, classy. They drove through
what seemed to be a residential neighborhood but it was old. The buildings were
three or four stories high, all made of brick. There were canals everywhere,
lining almost every street.

He should have gotten a guidebook, he
remembered reading about Anne Frank. Didn’t she live in Amsterdam? Or was it
somewhere else in Holland? In any case, he had his luggage with him, the gun in
his pants, and he was ready for some progress at last in the hunt for Willis
Greenwood.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver said as
they came to a stop in front of an apartment building.

Rick paid and got out with his luggage.
Then he had an idea.

“Can you wait here please? Just restart
the meter.”

“I have dentist appointment.”

“It won’t be long. Thanks.”

He told the driver to honk. This would
get Olivia’s attention.

The driver turned off the engine and Rick
leaned against the car. After ten minutes, the driver poked his head out of the
window to tell him the bill was running up.

“I can’t wait anymore,” the driver said
after blowing his horn again.

“Please,” Rick pleaded. “Just a little
bit longer, okay?”

The American carried his suitcase and
laptop bag to the bottom of the stoop so it would be out of the way and then
went to the front door. It was locked but there was an intercom. He scanned the
list of tenants. One of them was listed as
O. Cooper
.

He pressed the buzzer for this one – he
guessed it was Olivia. There was no response. He tried it three times with the
same result. Knowing that the taxi driver was getting impatient, he had to do
something. So he pressed random buttons until somebody answered.

“
Ya?
” It was the shaky voice of an
old woman.

Rick said into the intercom, “FedEx.”

The solenoid buzzed and he entered the
building. Remembering the number on the tenants list, Rick climbed the steps to
the top floor. He slowed down, looking for apartment numbers, and that’s when
he spotted a door at the end of the hallway which had light coming from
underneath.

There was a sound. It was faint but clear
enough to identify. It was a woman moaning.

It was a woman in pain.