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Reluctantly, he shook it. “I hope we meet again, Lauren. I’ll look for you the next time I’m in Munich.”
Still smiling, Lauren left the café and walked through the wide cobblestone apron outside. There were little tables with umbrellas scattered about, with patrons chatting and eating. Sated by the beer and pretzel, she inhaled happily, and then, walking over to the sidewalk, began what she expected to be a thoughtful stroll. Maybe she’d text her parents this time, try explaining her position without all the drama of a phone call.
She was halfway down the street when she heard a male voice call after her, “Lauren!”
She turned to see Marko hurrying in her direction. “Here.” He extended his arm, a familiar iPhone in his hand. “You left this on the table.”
“Oh, thank you.” How could she have been so careless? She protected her cell phone like a small child. “I’d be lost without that—“
As she spoke, a Mercedes van tore around the corner and came screeching up to them.
The near doors were flung open, and a stocky man jumped out, his face concealed by a black hood. Before Lauren could so much as blink, he grabbed her, yanking a burlap sack over her head and tossing her over his shoulder.
“Merr në makinë,” he said in a language Lauren didn’t understand.
By this time, Lauren had recovered enough to struggle for her freedom. Her legs flailed in the air, kicking furiously, and she pounded on the man’s back as he carried her and flung her into the back of the van.
Marko jumped in behind her, slamming the doors shut and barking out something in the same dialect as the other man—neither French nor Slavic—as the stocky barbarian held her down.
Finally finding her voice, Lauren let out a scream, which was quickly muffled by the pressure of Marko’s hand over her mouth. She could taste the wool of the sack, and she inclined her head so she could breathe through her nose.
A short-lived reprieve.
Marko fumbled around, then shoved a handkerchief under the sack, covering her nose and mouth. Lauren thrashed her head from side to side, struggling to avoid it. The odor was sickeningly sweet and citrusy.
Chloroform.
Tears burned behind her eyes. Shock waves pulsed through her body.
Oh God, she didn’t want to die.
Marko clamped his other hand on the back of her head, holding it in place while he forced the handkerchief flush against her nose and mouth, making it impossible for her to escape.
Dizziness. Nausea. Black specks. Nothing.
“Shko,” Marko ordered his accomplice, shoving him toward the driver’s seat.
The van screeched off, headed to hell.
2
Wall Street, Manhattan, New York
23 February
Friday, 10:00 p.m. local time
Another late night.
Aidan Devereaux leaned back in his office chair for a brief moment of peace.
There weren’t many of those at Heckman Flax. He was responsible for troubleshooting the labyrinthine communications infrastructure at the largest investment bank in the world. The company relied on its operations to extract billions in profits by trading everything from stocks and bonds to options and commodities. Virtually nothing in the world was traded without flowing through their book of business. They would take any side of any transaction if there was a buck to be made. With trillions of dollars on the line, nothing short of perfection in its communications network was acceptable. And it was his department’s sole purpose to guarantee that perfection.
No one understood that better than Aidan. As a former Marine, he had seen men live or die based on communication failures of all types—equipment, procedures, and people. And he had learned how to prevent all of them. Uncle Sam had taught him well.
Most of his time was spent in meetings or on the phone, putting out fire after fire. No sooner would one “near miss” end when the next one would flare up in another part of the world. Last week, it was the loss of a critical data circuit in Singapore that placed the Far East operations at risk of slow transaction processing, or wo
rse, a complete halt of trading operations. Aidan knew the drill. He’d immediately awakened the IT director in Japan, telling him to mobilize his team and bring on extra capacity in Tokyo should it be necessary. Fortunately, the worst hadn’t happened, as his team quickly resolved the Singapore issue.
