Final Target(55)
“Not until we find your daughter,” Keller said. “After that, we’ll be glad to accommodate you, Mr. President. Danley thinks they’ve also located a company in Antwerp that rented the van to transport your daughter. The timing is right. We’re getting closer, sir.”
“Not close enough. I’m going to Amsterdam.”
“That wouldn’t be wise.”
“I’m going. Get Air Force One ready. That plane was built so that the President could run the country from it during an emergency. It’s going to be tested. Then get the doctor to say I’ve had a slight relapse and can’t leave my room. I’ll make an appearance on the balcony so that everyone will know I’m not on my deathbed.”
“What about the First Lady?”
Chelsea. She had been suspicious from the moment he had stepped off the plane from Tokyo. She knew him so well, they were too close for any deception to fool her for long.
God, he didn’t want to tell her about Cassie.
And he couldn’t not tell her if he took off for Amsterdam.
He stood up. “I’ll go see her. We leave in an hour, Keller.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
A few minutes later Andreas was opening the door to their private suite. She was lying in bed, working on her laptop.
“Is that resting?”
“I’m flat on my ass, aren’t I?” She gave him that radiant smile that had first captured his attention all those years ago. She was more beautiful now than she’d been that day.
His love, his partner, his best friend . . .
He came into the room. “I have something to tell you, Chelsea.”
14
“Piece of cake,” Stuart Thomas said. He stood up and gestured to the computer screen. “There you go, Mr. Travis. It’s all yours.”
Thomas’s T-shirt was sweat stained and as unpleasant smelling as Galen had warned him, Travis realized. The idea of working in close contact with the kid was not appealing. “Why don’t you go get a meal? I’ll page you if I need you.”
“You’re not going to find him just by browsing. What’s he supposed to have done?”
“Murder.”
“What kind of murder? Crime of passion, burglary, mercy killing? You’ve got to narrow it down if you want results.”
“Let me work at it.”
Thomas hesitated. “Then will you give me my money? I usually get paid half upfront and half when you say you’re through with me. I waived the first payment, since Galen is a good friend, but I really should have—”
“How much?”
“Five thousand.”
“Wait here.” He left Thomas and went to the apartment across the hall.
“Trouble?” Galen rose from a chair.
“More an inconvenience. Thomas wants to be paid and I have a cash flow problem. Five thousand?”
Galen shook his head. “I can get it by tonight.”
“He wants it now. Never mind.” He went to his duffel and drew out his laptop, then opened the disk drive and took out a pouch. “You’ll have to use your powers of presentation and convince him to accept goods instead of cash.” He poured out half the contents of the pouch onto the coffee table.
“Holy shit,” Galen murmured. “Diamonds?”
Travis sorted through the gemstones. “Even the smallest of these will bring over five thousand dollars.”
Galen was staring at the pile. “And you smuggled these in your laptop?”
“It seemed a pretty good place as long as I wasn’t going to be frisked by airport security.”
“So that’s why you hitched a ride on Air Force One.”
He nodded. “I wasn’t about to risk losing these to customs after all I’d gone through to get them.”
“Andreas won’t be pleased you used his plane for your own ends.”
“At this stage of the game, he’d agree that smuggling is the least of my sins.” He picked up one of the stones. “I’m no expert, but I’d say this is pretty high quality.”
“The best.”
“Is that how you’re going to pay off that curator at the museum?” Melissa had come into the room, her gaze on the diamonds glittering on the coffee table. “They’re stolen, aren’t they?”
“You might say that.”
“And this is why your friend died?”
“You might say that too.” He handed the first diamond he’d chosen to Galen. “Tell Thomas it’s bonus time. Any appraiser in Paris will tell him that stone is worth twice what he asked me for.”
“You can bet he’ll be hotfooting it to the diamond exchange to check it.”