Black River

SEVENTY-FOUR

The rumble of twin diesels approached Gibraltar’s stern, the loud pulse of music, Bad to the Bone, carried across the marina. Nick stood, glanced out the open doors leading to the cockpit and shook his head. A fleshy, pink-faced man stood in baggy swim shorts behind the wheel, a can of beer in one hand. Nick turned back toward O’Brien and said, “Sean, you start trying to break into that yacht and Sheldon will have you walk the plank.”

Dave exhaled a long breath. “The ship sets sail to England in two days. Did you see the news clip? Frank Sheldon employs bodyguards to keep his privacy. He’s got a wife and two teenage kids. Any of them would bring millions of dollars in ransom money if they were ever kidnapped.”

O’Brien said, “Absolutely, but I don’t think the show of muscle at the launching of his ship was related to that. Billionaire’s have bodyguards, no doubt. But those guys carried a more mercenary look.”

Dave sat in a leather chair. “How do you mean, mercenary look?”

“Former Seals or Special Forces guys. Sheldon is sending a message to someone. I think he’s setting sail to England with more cargo than the painting.”

Nick grinned. “So he’s got some real booty aboard, eh?”

“Priceless booty, as in the diamond.”

“The diamond?”

“What if Sheldon wants to carry the same cargo back to England that was originally brought to the states during the Civil War? A billionaire’s fantasy could be to have possession of the diamond and the Civil War contract on his maiden voyage back to the nation that originally sent them. The same sailing ship, the same precious cargo.”

Dave said, “That’d probably be the ultimate display of wealth and narcissism.”

“Unless, upon delivery, he plans to quietly sell them both back to the great granddaughter of the woman who originally possessed them, Queen Victoria, the woman who first wore the Koh-i-Noor diamond in her crown.”

Dave’s phone buzzed. He answered it, handed the phone to O’Brien and said, “Alistair Hornsby, the head of M16, would like a word with you.”

O’Brien took the phone and Hornsby gave him an assessment and background of James Fairmont. Then he added, “Mr. O’Brien, my old friend and colleague, Dave Collins, speaks highly of you and your talents. Time is of the essence here. Perhaps you’d consider helping us.”

“Who is us?”

“Great Britain collectively. Her Majesty the Queen and the Royal Family specifically.”

“How?”

“By stopping James Fairmont. You’re in the thick of things already. Boots on the ground, if you will. On behalf of the Queen of England, and the Royal Family, we are making a special request that you circumvent and stop Fairmont if possible. We can and will have manpower to assist you. However, Dave tells me you work alone. If you accept this assignment, I assure you that you will be well compensated.”

“That’s not my motivation.”

“What then?”

“Justice. Retribution. Your agent breach, Fairmont, killed Dave’s close friend of forty years. Fairmont broke into a widow’s home after he had her husband killed. He, no doubt, stole the diamond and the Civil War document. You mentioned a high-stakes auction. I think he’s been playing a bidding game between Prime Minister Hannes and the Royal Family against an American Billionaire by the name of Frank Sheldon.”

“Has he sold the goods to Sheldon?”

“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.”

“Does this mean you will accept the assignment?”

“The last assignments I did were in college. You can tell the Queen I’ll do what I can to help. When did you last hear from Paul Wilson?”

“Five hours ago. He said he was getting close. Now we know how close he really was. Prior to his departure, unknown to him, we had a tracking device inserted in the heel of his right shoe. For the last three hours, his location has not changed even a meter.”

“Where is he?”

“Not too far from you and Dave, I suspect. I’ll send you over the GPS coordinates immediately. Maybe he’s with Fairmont, having a long dinner, plotting their spilt of the spoils from the sale of the diamond. However, Wilson doesn’t know that Fairmont has used him to get to the Prime Minister. Now that Wilson’s value is spent, I’m not sure what you will find. Whatever it is, please contact us immediately. Good luck, Mr. O’Brien. You will certainly need it. Is there anything else I can tell you?”

“What does Fairmont look like?”

“Like everyone and no one. He’s a master at blending into his surroundings, even becoming his surroundings.”

“Send me the most recent picture of him that you have.”

“You’ll have it. Fairmont, like any really good field agent, can be like a ghost. Someone who almost walks through walls. He might not look exactly the same twice. He speaks six languages fluently. He, like a great actor, becomes who he wants to be. Excellent at disguises. He’s very good at getting people to talk about things they normally keep to themselves. He can look like a priest, when he’s really the killer in the adjacent confessional booth.”