Chapter 63
Posing as a wealthy Parisian couple, Edouard and Christine met the property agent at the gate of the villa, then spent two leisurely hours inspecting the main house, the guest houses, the pool house, and the garage.
They walked through most of the ten-acre estate.
Though they were concerned with security, they didn’t discuss it.
The entire compound was enclosed with stone fencing, eight feet high in some places.
The agent said more than once that the villa was one of the three grandest on the island.
It sat secluded on the side of a hill outside the village of Bozcaada.
The azure waters of the Aegean Sea stretched forever.
On a clear day the Turkish mainland was visible.
It was only half an hour away by ferry. In that part of the world, almost every day was clear, sunny, and warm.
Actually, they were wealthy. They had just made a fortune and their leader was a generous man.
Through a banker contact in Beirut he had learned of the remote island of Bozcaada.
The owner of the villa was also Lebanese, but dead now.
His estate planned to sell it but for now it was tied up in court.
In the meantime, it was available for rent on an annual basis.
Edouard signed the lease as Warner Kahn, the name on his Maltese passport.
The property agent was suspicious but dealt with all types.
He didn’t care if the ID was fake as long as the money arrived. It did, in one lump sum.
Two days later, Nabeed appeared with three of his men and immediately began installing more cameras. A smuggler brought a crate filled with small arms, mainly Rugers and Glocks, with plenty of ammo, and an assortment of drones.
Nabeed had adopted the name of Omar and his new Turkish passport confirmed it.
If the Americans knew his name they might come looking for him.
If they did, he would be ready. He suspected, though, that they preferred to forget about him.
Maybe, finally, after thirteen years, he could forget about them.
A few days around the pool, and the gang began to relax. It was impossible not to, given the weather, the ocean views, the luxurious accommodations, and the fact that they were beginning to feel secure.
—
The quietest restaurant they had found so far in their brief romance was a Laotian place near Foggy Bottom.
Stuart got there early and asked for a table in a corner.
When she walked in he couldn’t wait to hug her.
They embraced, kissed, and acted like respectable married folks who hadn’t seen each other since breakfast. No one could possibly have suspected that within the past ten days they had been kidnapped, drugged, roughed up, and swapped for what was presumed to be a world-record ransom.
They ordered cocktails. When the waiter left, Stuart leaned in and asked, “Okay, where do we start?”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Too much to talk about.”
“Our pal Nabeed?”
“No sign. He appears to be smarter than we are.”
“You know, on some level I almost admire the guy. There’s a sense that justice has been served. He got his revenge, and did so without killing anyone.”
“There’s more to the story, Nash. There’s blood.”
“Do tell.”
“The two army soldiers who were court-martialed for killing his brother—”
“Billy Ross and Cade Garrett.”
“That’s them. Well, about two months ago Garrett was killed when his house blew up in Tennessee. Officially, it’s a propane leak. But there are suspicions.”
“I’m not feeling much sympathy.”
“No, he was a bad apple who abused a lot of prisoners.”
“What about Billy Ross?”
“Don’t know, but I would not want to be him. Nabeed has even more money now, and if he wants revenge, well, who knows?”
The drinks were served. They clinked glasses and took a sip. “How are your teeth?” she asked.
“I get them replaced tomorrow. Three hours with a dental surgeon getting new implants. Can’t wait.”
“I’d love to be there but my desk is buried.”
“Your desk.” He took a sip and kept smiling at her. “I assume you’re getting a new one, somewhere up the food chain. Lots of pats on the back and so on.”
“It’s pretty nice. The operation did not go precisely as planned, but the boys are home.
Which reminds me. Mr. Trevor Keefe, the director, called me in this morning.
They’ll issue the press release tomorrow so the story goes nuts.
All credit belongs to ‘U.S. Security Forces.’ Among other things, he inquired as to how much compensation you might be thinking about. ”
“Let’s save that for later. For the beach.”
She took another sip and stared at him. “The beach?”
“Yes, here’s an idea. My parents are yelling at me to come home for Christmas so they can make sure I’m okay.
No one knows but the family, so with my family that means everyone in town knows.
They want us, as young newlyweds of course, to pile in for a week and make the rounds.
I’m not doing that. I’m not subjecting you to all that nonsense.
I’ll go for twenty-four hours max. And alone. ”
She smiled and said, “Sounds familiar. My mom is worried sick.”
“Sure she is. How often does her daughter get kidnapped? You go to Akron for twenty-four hours. I’ll head south for the same. We meet back here on December twenty-second, catch a flight to the Caribbean, and have Christmas on a sun-drenched beach.”
They ordered shrimp egg rolls, though neither was hungry.
She sipped and smiled. “You sound like you want to stay married.”
“Look, the pressure is off. We’ve already been down the aisle. Now we can take our time and decide if we want to stay together.”
“Do you want to stay together?”
“Maybe. Do you?”
She hesitated for a second and said, “Maybe.”
“Perfect. We’ll have an entire week, maybe two, to walk the beach, play in the ocean, drink by the pool.
We’ll talk about everything—the operation, the future, the money, our goofy wedding, our families, everything.
I’d love to walk through that last night together, when we didn’t wake up.
I want to compare notes and remember everything.
And I want to do so without talking to a camera and a microphone. Whatta you say?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to stay here for Christmas and I don’t want to go home.”
“Pick an island.”
“Got one in mind?”
“No. And there could be a slight problem. Our kidnappers kept my passport.”
She laughed and said, “I assure you that will not be a problem. My boss can get a passport out of the State Department in less than an hour.”
Stuart shook his head. “Oh, to have such power.”
“I watched a movie once, can’t remember the name, but this woman left her husband and ran away to the islands. The last scene was on Barbados. Ever been there?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Was she alone?”
“Yes, it was very sad, but the island is stunning.”
“It would be more fun if we’re together, don’t you think? A real honeymoon, with no one following us.”
“Sounds dreamy, the more I think of it.”
“I’ll book the flights.”