The Prisoner's Gold

4

Jack Cobb stepped into the small café and inhaled deeply, enjoying the rich aroma of freshly baked bread that had caught his attention outside on the sidewalk. The place was tiny, but there was an open table near the bay window that overlooked the street.

His seat, much like the area itself, was perfect for his needs.

Hay was a small market town straddling the border of England and Wales. It was known far and wide as a Mecca for book lovers. With over two dozen bookshops, there was one in nearly every building in town. Additionally, every spring the community hosted the Hay Festival, a major writing event that attracted authors from around the world.

Although Cobb enjoyed reading in his downtime, it wasn’t the reason he had picked this place. He had chosen Hay because it was so far off the beaten track that it barely had any CCTV cameras on the streets, which was a rarity in the UK. Cobb always did his best to avoid cameras whenever he could, but privacy was particularly important for today’s meeting.

It needed to be confidential.

During the past year, Cobb had grown more and more suspicious of Papineau. Whether it was seeing through his lies and half-truths or doubting his real motivation for finding these treasures, Cobb knew that Papineau wasn’t the free-spending billionaire that he pretended to be. He sensed that Papineau was working for someone else — someone who preferred to stay in the shadows — and that didn’t sit well with Cobb. If he was going to continue to risk his life and the lives of his squad, he needed to know who was calling the shots.

And he needed to know now.

Cobb ordered tea and toast, then looked outside through his own reflection in the glass. He was a shade over six feet tall with short brown hair and a handsome face. For some reason, women always told him that he looked like a racecar driver. He didn’t know what that meant, but he was assured it was a compliment. Chiseled, but not bulky; people often underestimated his strength until he rolled up his sleeves and they saw the muscular definition of his forearms, with veins so thick it looked like snakes had crawled under his skin.

And yet that wasn’t his most distinguishing feature.

What stood out the most were his eyes.

They were gun-gray and piercing, so distinct that he was often forced to wear colored contacts on covert missions for fear of recognition. When he landed at Heathrow, they had been brown. Now they were hazel. After this meeting, he would wear aviator sunglasses to hide his eyes completely. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass, but he wouldn’t trade his eyes for anything.

They were his favorite feature.

As the waitress arrived with his order, Cobb saw the man he was waiting for.

Seymour Duggan ambled along the cobbled street, jauntily whistling a tune as if he were on his way to work in one of the local bookstores. Thin and nearly bald, he wore a tweed jacket with patches on the elbows. The lone splash of color in his outfit was his bright-yellow bow tie, which matched the canary-colored suspenders that were hidden under his coat.

Cobb stood as the man entered the café. ‘Good morning, Seymour.’

Duggan smiled warmly. ‘Same to you, Jack. It’s been a while.’

They shook hands like old friends before settling in at the table.

‘Would you like something to eat or drink?’

Duggan nodded. ‘Same as you. Tea and toast.’

‘Actually,’ Cobb said, ‘I ate earlier. I ordered these for you.’

Duggan broke into a wide grin. ‘I see you’ve done your homework.’

Cobb shrugged. ‘I like to be prepared.’

‘So do I,’ Duggan said as he poured himself some tea. ‘Which is why I left my wallet at home. I naturally assumed you were going to buy me breakfast to curry favor.’

Cobb smiled. ‘Touché.’

The New Zealander laughed loudly. It was a snorting kind of laugh that grated on most people’s nerves, but Cobb was the kind of man who would tolerate such things as long as Duggan could deliver when it mattered most.

In the spy game, Duggan was known as a bloodhound — a specialist at finding people who didn’t want to be found. For years, he had rented out his services to governmental agencies like MI6 or the CIA, which was where Sarah Ellis had met him on one of her undercover missions with the Agency. Based on her recommendation, Cobb had hired him to find a missing professor during their search for Alexander the Great’s tomb, and Duggan had performed brilliantly.

So brilliantly, in fact, that Cobb wanted to hire him again.

Duggan sipped his tea. ‘I have to admit that your invitation caught me off guard. So did the first-class ticket from Cairo. It wasn’t necessary, but much appreciated.’

Cobb nodded but said nothing.

‘Do you know, in all the years I lived in England I hadn’t even heard of this town.’

‘Good. Let’s hope no one else has either.’

‘So, why are we here, Jack?’

‘I’ll get right to it. I need your expertise; or the expertise of someone you recommend, if you don’t think you’re the man for the job.’

Duggan leaned forward. ‘You have my attention, sir.’

‘Based on our last conversations in Egypt and the assistance you were able to provide, I won’t insult you by assuming you don’t know who I’m working for.’

Duggan smiled coyly. ‘That would be a great start, because of course, I do. Monsieur Papineau not only paid me for that service, but he tried to recruit me after your adventure.’

That last bit was news to Cobb. ‘And you turned him down?’

‘Despite what Sarah might have told you, I don’t work strictly for the money. I have enough of it now that I can pick and choose my clients. Oh, I told Jean-Marc that I was already embroiled in another issue, but the truth was I just didn’t like the cut of his jib.’

‘But you were still willing to meet with me …’

‘Yes. My curiosity has got the better of me.’ Duggan raised an eyebrow. ‘I have an idea what it is you want me to work on, but I’d like to hear it from you.’

Cobb obliged. ‘I need someone to perform the work that I can’t do when I’m on a mission. I want someone on my side. A resource I can call who can find anyone or anything for me.’

Duggan sat back and straightened his bow tie. ‘I couldn’t possibly recommend anyone else for the job. This sort of thing requires international work, which happens to be my specialty.’

‘I know.’

‘And international work is quite expensive.’

Cobb nodded. ‘You’re obviously aware of what went down in the desert. Prior to that mission, we located a lost train in Romania.’

Duggan’s face showed that he’d heard about the train full of gold.

Cobb went on. ‘Jean-Marc — or rather his employer — is paying each member of my team a nice chunk of change. The implication is that there might be several more jobs ahead. I will pay you a quarter million per job. Retroactively. So you’ll get a half-million signing bonus.’

Duggan had just taken a sip of his tea when he heard the amount. He sputtered and coughed, having snorted some of the hot liquid up his nose. The other customers looked over briefly, but Cobb waved them off as Duggan whipped out his handkerchief and coughed into it.

Cobb continued. ‘From this point on, you’ll only get paid on successful missions — just like me. But I’ll cover your expenses up until that point, naturally.’

‘Dear God,’ Duggan whispered, once he had recovered his ability to speak. ‘That’s bloody generous, mate. You understand that’s far beyond my typical salary, right?’

‘I do,’ Cobb said, leaning forward. ‘But I require absolute silence for it. The truth is I don’t need the money. The money I have now will keep me for the rest of my days. What I need is to live long enough to enjoy it. I don’t like being in the dark.’

‘No one does.’

‘Plus, I need your complete loyalty on this. You wouldn’t be Sarah’s asset anymore. You’d be mine. I’ll need you to drop all your other clients and work for me full time.’

‘Understood,’ Duggan said with a nod. ‘My experience with these sorts of things has shown me that you might not like what I uncover …’

‘Let me worry about that. The team will be in Florida today or tomorrow. That seems like a good time to start — if you like the cut of my jib, that is.’

‘I like the cut of every sail on your sloop, Jack.’ Duggan leaned across the table and shook Cobb’s hand. ‘I’ll have my people begin immediately. Just tell me who you’re looking for.’

‘Wait. Your people?’ Cobb said, suddenly wary.

‘Relax, Jack. This sort of work can’t be done with a single man anymore. I have agents who are highly skilled and loyal to me. In addition to their loyalty, there are several layers of protection between us. These days I don’t meet these people in person, but I still keep tabs on them, as any employer should. There’s a reason I’ve managed to reach this age in my profession.’

‘That’s fine,’ Cobb said with a nod, ‘as long as there’s no direct connection from them to me. I know you, and I think I can trust you. But I’m not really comfortable trusting other people. So do me a favor and keep those layers intact. Or this relationship will end real quick.’