Chapter 22
22
“Go, go, go!” Beatrice hissed in their earpieces.
Magnus’s muscles had been so tense that a sudden burst of energy propelled him out of the back passenger’s side of the SUV. Lawrence shifted into the driver’s seat once Celeste and Santi hopped out behind him.
Santiago had promised them at least one quiet, camera-free street along the route and this was as good as it got. As he rounded the passenger’s side of the museum van, he caught a glimpse of Anton Lepp in the side-view mirror. The man’s eyes were still forward, facing the red light ahead of them.
They didn’t lock gazes until the crew surrounded the van. The man’s pale blue eyes widened in shock as Magnus slapped an electromagnetic pulse on the passenger door.
Fwoom... The engine and the electronic locks powered down, leaving the inhabitant vulnerable. Beatrice said that it would take a quick minute for the van to come back to life. He had hoped that all her technology would cooperate in the manner she described in their final planning stages. Magnus pulled the door open just as he retrieved a small tranquilizing dart from his suit pocket.
Seeing that they were trapped on all sides, Anton didn’t fight back. He raised his hands above his head and shouted, “We have nothing of value.”
Magnus didn’t reply but instead, yanked the man forward and jabbed the back of his neck with the tranquilizer. Anton immediately collapsed against his seat belt. Magnus unclipped him and shoved him over to the center console. Celeste was already in the back of the climate-controlled van, where sure enough, Anton was right: there wasn’t anything of value. The Fabergé egg would be the first item this vehicle would see.
Celeste took Anton from under his arms and dragged him back to the rear of the van. Magnus heard her yank strips of duct tape to bind the man’s hands and feet. After tranquilizing the driver, Santiago pressed Beatrice’s frequency jammer to the dashboard and climbed into the van. Magnus moved the driver into Celeste’s waiting arms. Once the men were in the back, Magnus also climbed in and smoothed the front of his crisp white shirt.
“All taped up?” Santiago asked, adjusting his seat and the mirror.
Another scratch from the duct tape roll before Celeste answered, “Secure and hidden under tarps.” She threw a couple name tags to the front seats. “Put these on.”
Magnus grabbed a KUMU-issued security badge for Anton Lepp. Thankfully, the man’s image was such poor quality that nearly any blond could play him.
“Bea, how long before the van boots up?”
“Eighteen seconds. When the van starts, the jammer will replay the last twenty minutes of their drive.”
Magnus scanned the neighborhood and street around them. Traffic was light to nonexistent, which really worked in their favor. Either they had worked so fast that no one saw them subdue the driver and passenger, or no one wanted the hassle of reporting a potential kidnapping in broad daylight.
“Keep an eye on the lights, mami,” Santiago said, pressing the ignition button. Beatrice, the girl wonder, also managed to hack into the traffic lights, forcing the van to slow down until they were able to catch up.
“You’re good to go...now.”
The van fired up just as the light turned green and Santiago turned on the main thoroughfare of Tallinn’s business district. In the side-view mirror, Lawrence followed close behind in the black SUV with a replaceable license plate.
“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the plane touches down,” Magnus said, checking his watch.
“He’s gotta get through customs to declare that egg,” Celeste said. “We have plenty of time.”
“She’s right,” Lawrence said. “You’re good.”
Magnus nodded to himself as he kept an eye on traffic. Everything was going well enough, and he tried not to be suspicious of it. They still needed to intercept Walter at baggage, lure him to the van and knock him out.
With nerves keeping his body tight, Magnus pressed his hands to his thighs to steady himself.
They had this under control.
The muffled cell phone coming from the unconscious Anton scared the shit out of Celeste.
“What is that?” Magnus said, whipping around in his seat.
Celeste removed the tarp from the man’s body and patted his body down. When she rolled him over, the ringtone grew louder. “He’s got a call.”
“Don’t answer that,” Magnus said.
Celeste read the contact on the screen. KUMU-direktor. “Fuck. I think it’s his boss. We have to answer it.”
“And say what? Do you speak Estonian?”
No, of course not. Like a lot of Americans, Celeste had not been diligent about keeping up with a second language, including most of the Haitian Creole her Granny Jo had taught her. “I can’t speak Estonian, but maybe I can type it. Bea, can you get on a translating app and find me the phrase for ‘I can’t talk right now’?”
“On it!”
Celeste waited a painful amount of time for the ringing to stop. After what felt like forty rings, she declined the call herself, opened the text exchange between these two strangers. She held the phone right in front of her face so that Beatrice could see the screen. “Can you see what they’re saying?” she asked.
“Uhh...lemme screenshot that,” her assistant murmured. “For now, here’s a generic message to send in the meantime.”
“Thanks, sis.”
For the next few minutes Beatrice slowly fed Celeste the spelling for the phrase “Ma pean sulle tagasi helistama. Lennujaama saabumine.” When she finished typing, she pressed Send before succumbing to self-doubt. The silence that blanketed the van was heavy as she waited for a reply. Magnus was fully twisted in his seat, staring directly at the phone, willing it to churn out good news.
A loud beep punctuated the silence.
“What’s it say?” he whispered.
Celeste held the phone to her glasses once more. “Bea?”
“Uhhhhh... Pole probleemi means... No problem!” she screeched.
The three crew members flinched from the sound of her voice. Celeste quickly turned the phone off and tucked it back into Anton’s pocket. “We’re in the clear,” she sighed. “How far from the airport?”
“Seven minutes,” Santiago said, checking his watch.
“Lawrence, how long does the tranq last?” Celeste asked.
“Long enough, CeCe.”
She scrunched her nose at his terse voice as she rolled Anton back under the tarp. She would have been fine with dropping a gas bomb, but Santiago raised a good point: even with gas masks, precious minutes would have been wasted on waiting for the men to pass out and airing out the van. Celeste didn’t really like the idea of jabbing someone with a sedative and was relieved to be in the back of the van.
“If you say so,” she muttered.
Everyone fell back into a tense silence that carried them all the way to the airport. As Santiago maneuvered through the departure lanes, Celeste chewed her lip in anticipation. Nerves hadn’t completely overridden her excitement. The familiar thrill of being with the old crew kept her blood rushing and heart pounding.
“We’re here,” Santiago said, pulling up to the curbside. “Is there a sign for him?”
Magnus looked around his seat. “Here,” he said, pulling out a whiteboard with “Walter” written on it.
“When I see our man, what should I say to him?” Santiago asked.
“As little as possible,” Beatrice said. They certainly didn’t need any more linguistic battles for the rest of the day. “But if you feel the need to speak, stick with affirmatives like jah.”
Magnus shook his head. “I’m going in.”
“Smooth back your hair,” Celeste said. “And straighten your tie.”
He adjusted himself in the rearview mirror. “Better?”
“You look like a curator.”
He turned in his seat to flash her what looked like a nervous grin. “Wish me luck.”
“We’re not working on luck,” Celeste reminded him. “We’re better than that.”
Magnus rolled his eyes and turned to Santiago. “Is this a good place for you to stay?”
Santiago shrugged. “As good as any. Knock ’em dead, mano.”
“I’ll wait until I get him back to the van.”
That was Celeste’s cue to roll her eyes. As excited as she was, she was hardly in the mood for his dad jokes. When Magnus eventually hopped out of the van with his sign, Celeste met Santiago’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “We’ve got this?”
He nodded. “Jah, jah.”