Angel and the Assassin (32 page)

“Yes.” Kael felt extremely calm. His heart rate did not change, nor his pulse.

When he was frightened, he went into a state similar to suspended animation.

Right now he was terrified. “Where is he? Where have they taken him?”

Visibly relieved that Kael had calmed down, Conran sat back in his desk chair and crossed his legs. “They are located in a remote farming area in the hill country, in the northwest of Bosnia. They are either there or on their way there. They appear to have access to a small plane, so they may well be there by now.”

“What do they want Angel for?” But he already knew.

“They have already attempted to ransom him. They must have been planning to take him for days because as soon as they snatched him, someone began making phone calls.”

Kael sank down into the leather chair in front of Conran‟s desk. Now that he knew what was happening, he felt tranquil. He would get Angel back or die trying.

“How the hell did they know Angel was in London?”

“I have no idea. They have intelligence, just as we do—not as sophisticated obviously, but they seem to manage,” Conran said.

“Tell me everything you know,” Kael said.

“They got in touch with his mother and her septuagenarian boyfriend, Gregoire St. Germaine, but those two‟ve refused to cooperate.”

16Kael sat up and leaned forward. “They won‟t pay a ransom? His mum won‟t pay a ransom for her own son?”

“No, and the man is a millionaire. The Bosnians have threatened to kill the boy, but they still won‟t budge.” The last phrase jarred Kael like a heavy blow, but he did not lose his composure. When he was in a threatening situation, all he focused on was the solution. “They‟ve also contacted the American government asking for ransom money from them since the boy is an American citizen, but they won‟t play.”

“What about us? Angel has British citizenship now.”

Conran went to the sideboard and poured a whiskey. “Do you want one?”

“No.”

“We won‟t play either. No one is going to make deals with Bosnian terrorists over a boy with dual citizenship, which you insisted he have. The foreign minister said let the Americans take care of him. The American‟s are saying he‟s a British problem now. No one is going to do anything politically. Aside from that, the stepfather was an arms dealer and the Bosnians are terrorists. No government will go to bat for the boy without someone lobbying publicly for him, and the mother won‟t. She wouldn‟t even cooperate with the police when she thought he might have been killed.”

Kael drank some water. “Get out a map, and show me where you think Beganovic and his people are. I want a plane, an all-terrain car at the other end, and a translator in case I need one. I‟ve never picked up that language.”

Conran walked over and sat on the edge of his desk looking at Kael. “Our people won‟t give you anything to go after this boy. They will not help.”

“Then you must make them, Stephen.” Conran sighed, looking beaten. Kael stood up and put his hand on Conran‟s shoulder almost kindly. “I‟ll let you figure out how. Then we won‟t have to go through the ritual of me threatening the lives of your family or threatening your personal integrity with erotic videos and you won‟t have to tell me I‟m an evil bastard and you always knew I was a killer.”

“I never thought I‟d see the day.” Conran looked up at him. “Kael Saunders in love and willing to risk everything.”

“That‟s right. I love Angel, and I‟ll do whatever it takes to get him back.”

“You‟re actually more concerned about someone other than yourself? That is a turnup for the book.”

Kael gave him a gentle, almost kind look. “Wonders will never cease. You know, Stephen, you really have very attractive eyes.” Conran issued a nervous little cough as Kael leaned in very close and spoke into his ear. “A plane, a car, and a translator, now. And you, Stephen. You are coming with me in case I need to use you as a bargaining chip. I want my boy back, and I‟ll happily kill to get him.”

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Chapter Twenty

Banja Luka Airport, Bosnia

 

By the time Kael arrived in Bosnia with Conran, Angel had been in the hands of his captors for at least thirty-six hours. Kael had tried to keep a professional distance, but on the way to the airport, he could not stop himself worrying, not just about the basics of whether or not Angel was injured or still alive, but if he was hungry or cold or tired. The thought of him being frightened and lonely, of thinking nobody cared about him or would not come to get him back, made Kael‟s stomach tighten painfully.

Daddy’s coming, Angel. Sit tight; Daddy’s coming.

The wind blew viciously cold as he and Conran climbed down from the small plane on the dark, deserted runway of the tiny airport. They hurried toward the decrepit old army jeep waiting for them. It had a canvas roof and plastic windows.

“Nice vehicle. Let‟s hope we don‟t come under fire,” Kael said. “I‟ll drive.”

“I‟m happy to hear it.” Conran looked the jeep over nervously. “I haven‟t a clue where I am, and this thing looks like it will crap out at any moment.”

Fastening the zipper on his leather jacket against the cold, Kael saw the interpreter waiting in the backseat of the darkened vehicle. When he opened the door, she said, “Mr. Carpe, what a pleasure to see you again.”

Kael eased his big frame into the driver‟s seat. “Dragana.” He smiled. “The last time I saw you, I was ready to kill you.”

“Why doesn‟t that surprise me?” Conran‟s teeth chattered as a gust of freezing wind nearly blew him over. “Is there anyone you haven‟t thought of killing at some point, Saunders?”

“Only my mum.” Kael looked at Conran and thumbed over his shoulder. “In the back. I want Dragana in the front.”

Conran did as he was told, and Dragana got into the front seat. “You could have picked better weather to visit my country, Mr. Carpe,” she said.

“And better circumstances,” he added. “Call me Kael.”

To his relief, the engine sounded smooth, and they headed for the road going west. He had read and memorized the map on the plane, and he no longer needed it to find his way to the countryside outside of Sasina, where intelligence told them Beganovic and his group planned and practiced their attacks.

17“I didn‟t know she worked for you, Conran. You got one over on me. That should make you feel good. She saw Angel the day after I brought him home. I thought she‟d go straight to the police when she left my flat. But we had a little talk in the car.”

Hanging onto the sides of her seat, Dragana turned her head to look at Conran as Kael drove well above the speed limit on the rough road. “I got suspicious when he pulled over in an industrial area and he began to pull on latex gloves.”

“Latex gloves and Saunders are a deadly combination.” Conran also hung onto his seat as if he were on a fairground ride.

“Then she explained to me that she was with your office and part of her job was keeping an eye on me,” Kael said.

“So why the hell didn‟t you report the boy?” Conran raised his voice over the noise of the engine and the wind whistling through the plastic windows that would not close properly. “You could have saved me a lot of time and trouble.”

Dragana smiled at him. “It was not my job to report on Mr. Carpe‟s companions, but only to plant bugs. Anyway, I like Mr. Carpe…Mr. Kael Saunders.

I was just so happy to see him with a partner. He always seemed so lonely. Besides that, he said he would come after me and kill me if I told you, and I believed him.”

Kael laughed out loud and drove even faster.

* * *

Sitting on the dirt floor of the farm outbuilding, Angel was freezing cold. From the moment he was snatched off the street, he had been hooded, his hands bound behind his back, and now they were fastened to something on the wall behind him, making it impossible for him to rise to his feet. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and his tongue was beginning to stick to the roof of his mouth, he so desperately needed some water. His jeans and underwear were wet because he had not been allowed to unfasten them to pee. He had no idea where he was, but he knew the men who had taken him were Bosnian. He recognized the language from the men who had visited Sven in New York.

It could be day or night, but he suspected it was night. He could no longer hear the noises of animals he had heard hours ago. The hood blacked out the light and was fastened around his neck with a piece of string so that even though his body was cold and stiff, his face sweated. The leather hood Sir had made him wear was a good preparation for this. He might have panicked and choked had he not experienced it that night and learned how to stay calm and breathe with it.

Footsteps on the gravel path outside alerted him that someone was approaching. Angel used all his senses to understand what was happening. That‟s what Sir would do. The door was loose on its hinges. It scraped across the ground when it was opened, and he tightened his muscles against the wind that swept in with the footsteps. He knew the roof overhead was low because all the sounds were loud despite the hood muffling everything.

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Someone spoke, a man. Angel raised his chin as if he could look up at him. The words made no sense, but the man was unfastening the hood, tugging it up so that his mouth was free, and he was immensely grateful. He gulped in cold, fresh air and saw a small amount of pale light, probably from a flashlight.

“Could you give me some water, please? Water.”

A bottle was pressed to his lips and tilted. Angel drank so quickly he began to cough. “More,” he said when his coughing stopped. Again he drank, and relief settled over him. Food he could live without for a while longer, but not water. He began to feel calmer now that he knew they would at least give him the basics to stay alive.

“If you ask my mom for money, her boyfriend will give it to you. He‟s rich.”

When the man spoke, his accent was very heavy and he sounded impatient.

“We have contacted Gregoire St. Germaine and his new girlfriend, and they are not interested in you. Maybe the British government will pay for your release. If not, you will die.”

“Did you ask my mom? Maybe she doesn‟t know where I am. She‟ll get Gregoire to give you money.”

“Your mother knows. She will not pay.” He pulled the hood down again but did not tie it. Angel heard his footsteps recede. The door opened with a gust of freezing wind and scraped closed again.

Mr. Conran had told the truth about his mom, and Sir had lied about it. But why would he do that? To protect Angel? Why would Sir want to protect him? He didn‟t love Angel. Sir gave Angel the money to get out of his way. It didn‟t make sense.

Grateful for the water and utterly exhausted, Angel let his chin drop onto his chest and drifted off into a stiff, uncomfortable sleep.

* * *

About a mile from where the farm should be located, Kael pulled off the road into the woods. Taking out his compass, he looked at it carefully. “That way, through the woods. It should take us about twenty minutes.” He looked at Conran.

“You stay here and be ready to drive the minute we get back. Dragana, you come with me. What weapon have you got?”

“XD subcompact—nice and light. But Kael, I am forty-two years old, and a little plump. That‟s why I am in surveillance now. Maybe Mr. Conran be better to back you up?”

“Conran‟s a useless prick; that‟s why he‟s in an office job,” he told her, ignoring Conran‟s glare. “I wouldn‟t trust him with my back, but I‟d trust you. You didn‟t flinch when you thought I was going to kill you.” He chuckled. “Though you did start talking very fast.”

“I have strong belief in God. I have think when my time comes, there is nothing I can do.” They got out of the Jeep and started into the woods.

17* * *

The farm consisted of a small farmhouse, a barn, several cowsheds, a pigsty, and open fields to the southeast. The woods added excellent cover and extended right up to the thatch-roofed outbuildings on the northwest side. The only building with electricity appeared to be the farmhouse. Thank God, Kael thought, for a nearly full moon lighting the surrounding area and for the near cloudless sky.

“How‟s your eyesight?” he asked Dragana.

“It‟s good.” She was out of breath but faring well.

“We have to search the outbuildings. If we can find Angel and get him out quietly, that‟s plan A. If that‟s impossible, plan B is kill everyone.”

“Of course.”

“You approach the farmhouse, see how many are there, and find out what you can. Do not go inside. Angel may be in the house. If he is, come back here; I‟ll get him out of there. I‟m going to search the outbuildings. Meet me back here at this exact spot.”

Dragana listened carefully and left with no questions. Kael began a methodical search of the outbuildings, all of which were open and unsecured. Silent and unobtrusive, he walked quickly through the stone-and-mud buildings using a low-beam flashlight only when he absolutely had to. The animals resting under the thatched roofs did not stir. Kael was intensely alert for guard dogs and carried his GLOCK 26, with the silencer, in his hand.

Through the filthy, broken window of a cowshed, lying unmoving against the damp stone wall, he picked out a slender figure with a black hood over its head, and went completely still, fear grabbing his belly. He took a couple of steadying breaths and allowed a silent emptiness to settle over him until he was able to move again.

Every emotion—fear, horror, anxiety, love, protectiveness—all drained from his mind and body. Angel was a target for rescue, nothing more. He‟d been on rescue missions before; it wasn‟t all about killing.