CHAPTER 92
Easton Airport
We landed at Easton Airport on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. From there I would go on to the Marine Terminal in Dundalk, Maryland—the Port of Baltimore’s largest cargo facility. The driving distance was sixty miles, but in a loaded, twenty-six-foot moving truck, it felt far longer.
Driving a box truck full of illegally gotten booty into a deserted container yard in the middle of the night posed serious risks. Yet, for Meg’s sake, here I was.
Egorov was no amateur and had undoubtedly done this a time or two.
Did I trust him? Hell no.
Was I playing it straight? Almost.
Oliver’s team was tracking me and would dutifully stay just far enough away for Egorov’s comfort but close enough to assault if the deal went off the rails.
All the contact we’d had so far had been professional.
No needless chatter, just simple instructions as I passed each poorly lit checkpoint until I reached Egorov’s chosen gate, which was indeed unlocked.
The exchange location was a good one. The stacks of shipping containers provided very good cover and concealment from prying eyes—as well as from potential snipers in a hide site.
I cut the lights and maneuvered the truck to face the gate the way Egorov had specified.
As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I checked the chamber of my Sig and slipped it in my belt.
Then I climbed from the cab, keys in the ignition as directed.
If anyone got frisky, I’d readily put two hollow-points right between their running lights and another one in the chest to fuck up their hydraulics.
I heard the car rolling across the gravel before I saw the outline of the Lincoln, headlights off, circling the open area between the containers. The driver parked the car in the same direction as the truck. Smart enough. Who wants to do a three-point turn during a gunfight?
The rear passenger door opened and an older man stepped out. The pictures I had seen of the stout seventy-something didn’t do him justice: Even in the dark, he had a presence that no doubt stopped people in their tracks.
Without taking his eyes off me, Egorov extended his hand inside the Town Car and helped Meg step out. My heart beat faster at the sight of her face. She was stunning. I had never recognized it before, but Meg Fuller was beautiful.
During the drive here, I had rehearsed my next movements in my mind a million times over. My hands felt good and loose, and I said a silent prayer that God would guide me to be faster than my opponents.
Meg looked at me and then at Egorov. He released her with a nod that seemed almost paternal, and she half-trotted the ten yards between us. I held my breath. If anything was going to go south, it would be in the next few seconds.
My eyes told her to stand behind me for cover. Let’s finish this thing. I smiled when I heard her whisper, “Thank you, Nat.”
“Mr. Phillips, may I?” Egorov showed me that his hands were empty, gesturing that he would like to move closer to me. Trusting soul. He knew I was carrying.
I shook my head. “That’s close enough. Who else is in there with you?”
“My driver and my two sons. Pavel and Taras are here to drive the truck. They have no more business here. May they leave?”
The request didn’t surprise me. I told him they were free to go—slowly, so I could watch them.
After a few words from Egorov in Russian, out popped the two sons from the back of the car.
I was sorry that I wouldn’t get a chance to hurt the accomplices to Meg’s kidnapping personally, but a deal was a deal.
Avoiding eye contact, the pair followed my instructions and climbed into the moving truck. Five seconds later, the truck started to roll forward on its way toward the unlocked gate.
“So why me, Egorov? What do you want?”
He glanced at my right hand ready for action, then slowly raised his hands to his waist as if asking for quiet before he spoke.
“Hear me out, please. I have a favor to ask, and I believe that you are the only one who can help me.” The deliberate pattern of his speech indicated his sincerity.
“Why should I believe you?”
“Listen to him, Nat.” Meg whispered from behind my right shoulder.
Okay—I’ll listen to the bastard.
“What could I possibly do for you that you can’t do yourself?” I asked Egorov.
“Protect my niece.”
His what? Who?
“You’re a fucking billionaire arms dealer. You deal with armies and revolutionaries, and—oh yeah—terrorist tough guys every single fucking day of your shady life. Get one of them to do it. Come on, man—this is bullshit.”
I was aggravated, but I couldn’t deny the guy was emitting an earnest vibe.
“I am dying, Mr. Phillips. There is no one I can trust.”
Now he was royally pissing me off.
“He’s telling the truth, Nat,” Meg said quietly from behind me. “I’ll fill you in when we get out of here. This is a big one, Natty.”
Egorov was watching me closely.
“I see you understand the value of a brilliant woman. I feel the same way about my niece. Having her by my side all these years has brought me much success. She has a genius intellect, second to none, and she figured out something that she shouldn’t have.
Now she is in danger. That is it. I am asking that you listen to her.
She helps you, and you help her stay safe. ”
“But why me?” I asked again, trying to buy time to process the absurdity of this entire fucking conversation. “You must have contacts we can’t even dream of tapping into. What about your boy Joseph, your security chief?”
“Because you have an interest in this, Mr. Phillips. Believe me—you do.”
Without taking his eyes off me, Egorov reached slowly inside his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope.
“Here is all the information I have about the man who orchestrated and controlled the events in your Nantucket. He is an Algerian named Haracat al Marrak. He is in Paris.”
“What’s that got to do with your niece?”
“Because while al Marrak believably plays an Arab terrorist, he is not one—he is an idiot. But a useful idiot, as I believe you Americans say. He is run by the Chinese, a fact that my niece figured out. They have people everywhere. That is all I know. The rest you will have to hear directly from her.”
What the fuck?
“You don’t trust me, and you probably want to kill me.
This I understand and respect. But what I have told you is true.
I will be dead within weeks—maybe a few months, if I am not killed first. That is why I need someone outside the apparatus, if you will, to protect my niece.
I have accounts all over the world. If you help my niece, Joseph has been authorized to grant you access to a sizable amount for your troubles.
I am as protective of my family as you clearly are of yours. ” He glanced at Meg, then back at me.
The bastard was right about that.
The sound of the gunshot was deafening. I recognized the flash at twelve o’clock, five meters, the thunderous sound of instant death.
The blast came from Alexander Egorov’s driver.
Must have been at least a .45. A chunk of Egorov’s neck and a piece of his jaw flew before my eyes as I watched his body collapse in a heap.
My Sig was out and squeezing rounds at the driver’s window as the car—fucking bulletproof—lurched forward, fishtailing as it gained speed. I changed magazines.
“You okay, Meg?” I asked as I spun around.
I didn’t see her at first. She was lying on the ground, her left arm pressing against her right shoulder. Her eyes were wide as silver dollars, and her lips were quivering from the shock of rapid blood loss.
Fuck—the bullet must have hit an artery.
I hit the push-to-talk button on my vest. “Oliver, Meg’s down. Gunshot wound right shoulder. She’s going into shock. Need a medevac!”
“I’m one minute away, boss.”
“You’re gonna be okay, Meg. Hang in there, baby—I’ve got you.” I grabbed a bandanna from my pocket, balled it up, and pressed it to the wound.
I kept my eyes locked on hers as she looked up at me, struggling to stay conscious.
“Good news, Meg: It’s through and through. Just hang tight. You’re gonna be good. Quick ride on the Little Bird to get you patched up.”
I spoke in a soothing tone even as my concerns mounted. Despite my battlefield first aid, she was losing a lot of blood.
When I heard the buzz of the Little Bird, I checked my watch. We were minutes from downtown Baltimore and a trauma center where Meg could be stabilized. The Golden Hour was on our side.