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“That last question will send you down a blind alley.” Danijel waved his hand dismissively. “Albanian crime groups don’t restrict themselves to one line of work, or to one country. Drug, arms, and human trafficking—not to mention the trafficking of human organs—they don’t care what their assignment is or who they work for as long as they get paid. They’re mercenary and they’re brutally violent. They’re also widespread. They operate everywhere from the Balkans to England and the Netherlands.
”
“Really?” Marc’s brows rose. “That’s more expansive than I realized.”
“Some of that branching out is recent, particularly in the Netherlands,” Danijel replied. “As to the Albanian crime groups operating here in Croatia, those are greatly diminished after a large number of arrests that have taken place over the past several years. That doesn’t mean they don’t still exist. With regard to the groups that continue to operate in my country, I obviously have knowledge of their activities. But given we need particular specifics from an insider’s point of view, I’m waiting to hear back from my less legitimate sources.” His brows rose quizzically, seeking confirmation. “Aidan mentioned that you would be bringing cash to help them talk more freely.”
Marc nodded. “The money is in American dollars. We couldn’t risk raising red flags by converting large sums of money into Croatian kuna. Given your sources, we didn’t think that would be a problem.”
“It won’t be.”
“How much cash do you think will be needed?”
“Ten thousand is optimal, just to be on the safe side. A thousand American dollars is equivalent to over six thousand Croatian kuna. That will buy you a great deal of information—from one informant. There are several I have in mind, all of whom I need to meet with face-to-face—and alone—before I can set anything up with you. What I’m hoping is that those informants will lead to other informants until you close in on where this young woman is being held. Thus, the ten thousand dollars.”
Marc unzipped the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out two of the four rubber-banded packets of hundred dollar bills he was carrying. There were five thousand dollars in each. “Do you need this now?”
“No.” Danijel gave an adamant shake of his head, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as if to reinforce the adamancy of his reply. “You’ll pay them directly. Any bribe money that’s exchanged will not pass through my hands.”
Marc nodded. “Understood.”
“Good.” Danijel came to an abrupt halt. “Then if we’re all on the same page, I’ll go follow up on my feelers so I can get things moving tonight. If I’m successful, I’ll be setting up our first meeting for tomorrow morning. Once I have everything arranged, I’ll call.”
13
NanoUSA
27 February
Tuesday, 2:30 p.m. local time
Ethan Gallagher walked through the meeting room door spot on time, a warm and congenial smile on his face. As Simone had expected, he looked just like his photo, since he clearly wasn’t the pretentious, pose-for-the-camera type. Light brown hair and eyes, cool, trendy glasses, a navy sports coat—probably donned in honor of this meeting—khaki slacks, a white collared shirt, and boat shoes. Business casual at its best.
Simone rose from behind the table, primed to meet Vance’s PA. She’d done her research. Ethan was twenty-eight years old, with all the traits of a millennial. Super tech savvy, intent on getting ahead, and striving for—and achieving—a tight relationship with Vance, for starters. He’d graduated from Berkeley with a degree in Information Technology Management, and Simone had no doubt that he had aspirations of moving up at Nano, maybe into the role of associate, either in the manufacturing or another department—but not before acquiring and capitalizing on the coveted role of PA to the new CEO at Nano. If he was smart, and Simone was quite sure that he was, he’d remain in his new position long enough to highlight it on his resume. And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Ethan knew of Robert Maxwell’s upcoming plans for Vance. If Vance knew, then Ethan knew.
Ethan also lived an above-his-means lifestyle—something Simone intended to address. It could be that he just racked up huge credit card bills. On the other hand, it could be that he was getting paid by another, more lucrative employer.
“Hi, Ethan. I’m Simone.” She went straight for the casual, breaking down any walls Ethan might have assumed would be erected.
His brows rose in pleased surprise as he shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Simone.” He glanced down at her half-empty cup of coffee, simultaneously putting down his tan leather messenger bag. Clearly, he’d come prepared in case he was asked to pull up information on his laptop or iPad. “Can I get you a refill? I need a cup myself.”
“That would be great.” Simone handed him her cup, waiting to fully assess his demeanor when his attention was diverted at the coffee station.
He wasn’t nervous. In fact, there was a self-assurance about him that spoke volumes. He knew his job was secure and that nothing but blue skies lay ahead. That could fare well for Simone; the more comfortable in his own skin Ethan was, the more likely he was to reveal something he didn’t even realize he was revealing.
He brought over their coffee cups, handed Simone hers, and waited until she’d reseated herself before he pulled back the adjacent chair and sat down. A guy who’d been educated in the art of respect. Kudos to his parents.
“All set.” He took the bull by the horns. “Anything I can do to help Vance and to make our department function more efficiently, I’m in.”
Simone hid her smile behind the rim of her coffee cup. Ethan might be polished, but he was also a young man with a mission, not to mention a wealth of genuine enthusiasm.
“I appreciate that,” she said. “Because from what Vance tells me, you’re his right hand.”
“I like to hope so.”
“That means that you have a unique view of your boss and how he interacts with everyone in his world.” Simone waved at his messenger bag. “You won’t need that. My questions aren’t data-related, they’re personal instinct and knowledge related.”
“Okay.” Ethan propped his elbows on the table and waited.
