Chapter Thirty-Four
Istanbul, Turkey
Caspian adjusted the collar of the lightweight jacket he’d borrowed from the safe house and made sure to keep his eyes shaded beneath the brim of the black baseball hat he’d just purchased.
Though it was still early and he had only left the safe house less than fifteen minutes ago, morning had now fully arrived in Istanbul, and the closer he got to Taksim Square, the busier it got.
Caspian turned onto Siraselviler Caddesi and slipped into the flow of pedestrian traffic.
The air, tinged with diesel fumes, was getting warmer, and Caspian knew he would have to shed his jacket soon.
Keeping it on would make him stand out. But he’d have to be careful to leave his shirt fully untucked to conceal the pistol wedged into the waistband at the small of his back.
The earbud in his right ear crackled. “I’m making a quick detour, Casp,” Liesel said. “I might have a tail. Not sure yet. I’m heading south toward Tomtom Kaptan.”
Caspian pursed his lips, but he didn’t slow his pace. In his mind’s eye, he visualized the map of the area. “I can be there in six minutes,” he said.
“No,” Liesel said. “I’m not new at this. I’ll see you at the Hyatt.”
Caspian didn’t like it, but he had to let go. Liesel knew what she was doing. She didn’t need him to babysit her.
His lips barely moving, he said, “Copy that. I’m two minutes from Taksim Square.”
He passed a shop window and caught his reflection. Nothing about him stood out. His posture, his clothes, even the way he walked. Everything he did was calculated to avoid drawing the eye. His decade of operating solo had drilled it into him.
He turned right onto the southern edge of Taksim Square, merging with a cluster of about thirty tourists gathered near the Cumhuriyet Aniti, the eleven-meter-high Republic Monument that honored the founding of the Turkish Republic in 1923.
The tourists were led by a guide holding a laminated paddle labeled with the logo of a popular cruise line.
Being this early in the morning, Caspian assumed it was a predeparture tour.
Their chatter was cheerful and oblivious, but even better, most of them were Caucasian. He fit right in.
He stayed near the rear of the group, using their collective bulk as a screen while he scanned the plaza.
He spotted six police officers scattered across the square.
Two stood near a taxi stand. One of them, just like the cop he’d spotted earlier, held a tablet.
Two more officers leaned against a police van near the park entrance, scanning the crowd with a relaxed but alert expression.
Another pair stood near the edge of the monument, speaking with a city sanitation worker.
Caspian, still with the group of tourists, walked past them.
They glanced his way, but only briefly, before continuing their conversation with the city employee.
A minute later, he split from the group of tourists, who seemed to be heading back toward a waiting bus. He followed the curve of Mete Caddesi, his eyes constantly moving.
“Liesel, update,” he said.
She came back immediately. “I think I’m good,” she replied. “I’m about to head north. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Understood. Approaching the Hyatt now.”
As he neared the Hyatt, he took a hard right into a side alley that ran parallel to the hotel’s delivery entrance.
Caspian walked toward the entrance, carrying himself like someone on the payroll.
He stepped inside, nodded to a hotel employee who was pushing a laundry cart, and moved deeper into the corridor, heading toward the elevator bay.
“I’m at the Hyatt. Give me an update,” he said.
No reply. He tried again.
“Liesel? Everything okay?”
Still nothing. Then he heard someone take a sharp breath, and it took him a second to realize the noise had come via his earbud.
Then someone yelled, and Caspian froze in place, his heart pounding. Liesel.
Everything around him seemed to mute as he concentrated on the sounds and voices coming through his earbud. He didn’t call out her name, didn’t ask if she was okay, because he knew that if she could talk, she would.
A faint sound bled through his earbud. A grunt? Then he heard something else. It was the unmistakable thud of something solid striking flesh.
Caspian’s gut clenched, and he knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that Liesel had just been taken.