One Minute Out
Verdoorn replied patiently. “He’s not just some asshole, sir. He—”
“Are you telling me you don’t have this situation under control?”
“Yes, sir. I am telling you that, exactly. And until we do, I need you to stay away from this area. If it were anyone else, he’d already be dead and in the dirt. But he’s the Gray Man.”
Now Cage shouted with rage. “I don’t give a shit what color that motherfucker is! No one is going to get in the way of my business interests. I run this show! I do!”
It was silent for several seconds, and then Verdoorn’s disembodied voice resumed. “Hall? I believe this is where you chime in.”
Sean Hall was clearly more intimidated by his boss than Verdoorn was. He nodded to the phone, then looked to Cage. “Sir, sorry for pointing this out. But the fact is, your business doesn’t have anything to do with why you want to go to Venice. The market would continue with or without you. I understand you want to meet with some of the players, but at the end of the day this is a personal vacation, and I don’t see why we should risk—”
Cage interrupted. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing from you two chickenshits.”
Hall said, “Sir . . . it’s not fear, it’s risk management. We take threats seriously. I understand you want to retain free movement, despite the—”
Cage waved his hand in the air wildly. “I’m going to Italy. This asshole doesn’t know who I am, or that I even exist. Verdoorn, you and your shit-hot South African badasses will take care of the Gray Man, and Hall, you and your shit-hot American badasses will protect me while I’m there if Verdoorn doesn’t do his job. Am I understood by you both?”
Hall made no reply, but Verdoorn had some fight left in him on the matter. “The merchandise going to market in Venice. You’ve examined the best of the lot. We can have it over to you in just a couple of days. Stay home this time, boss.”
The short bald man launched to his feet now. “Jesus Christ, I’m surrounded by pussies!” Though he was four full inches shorter than Hall, he jabbed a finger in the man’s muscular chest as he spoke, his words meant for both the man in front of him and the man on the phone. “You two need to grow some fucking balls and do your jobs!”
Verdoorn remained eerily calm. “We are doing our jobs. It’s our job to give you our fair assessment. I am in charge of overseas operations, and Mr. Hall is in charge of your personal security.”
Cage shouted at the speakerphone. “Who’s in charge of signing your fucking checks?”
The door to the office opened, and Cage and Hall spun towards the movement. Heather Cage leaned in with a worried look. “Everything all right, hon?”
Verdoorn began to speak, but Cage muted the phone. “Sure, babe. Just work.”
She looked back and forth between the two men. “Sean, you look like you just ate a rotten peach.”
Hall put on a quick smile. “Ha. No, ma’am. We’re just working out details of the trip to Switzerland. Your husband wants to run around faster than we can keep up, but we’ll take good care of him.”
She gave a pout, then eyed her husband. “Sean knows what’s best, Ken.”
“Of course he does,” he replied, and she left the room.
The conversation between the three of them continued for a minute more, but Cage managed to keep his voice down. Neither the South African former soldier and intelligence officer nor the American former Naval Special Warfare chief petty officer pushed back again on their boss’s impending travel plans.
Together Hall and Verdoorn spit out a reluctant “Yes, sir,” and the matter was resolved.
After Cage took a few calming breaths, he sat back down at his desk. In a softer tone, he said, “All right. Jaco . . . what do you need?”
“You have declined my one request, so I will proceed as follows: My men are already in Venice, where they are performing an advance reconnaissance of the market. I am on board the vessel with the shipment from Dubrovnik. We will moor off Croatia tonight to accept delivery of items traveling the northern route, and then head to Italy tomorrow morning. My men and I will provide an outer cordon for the market’s security, and if the Gray Man should arrive, we will deal with him.”
“There’s nothing else you need?”
“I have all the resources I require at this time,” Verdoorn said in a clipped tone.
Cage turned his attention to his bodyguard. “Sean . . . anything I can do for you short of locking myself in my office and hiding under my desk?”
“No, sir.” He looked utterly defeated, and Cage liked this look on the normally easygoing and self-assured man.
“You gonna keep me safe?”
“Of course, sir,” he said with a nod. And then, “Absolutely. I’ll coordinate with Jaco offline and we’ll take care of things.”
* * *
• • •
Fifteen minutes later Hall was back in his pool house apartment, an icy 1.5-liter bottle of Grey Goose from the freezer in his hand and his EarPods in his ears. He was on another encrypted call, for the third time today, with Jaco Verdoorn, while he drank his fourth shot of vodka of the day.
Hall said, “Cage is a prick. But he fuckin’ pays like no one else.”
Verdoorn said, “We’ll earn our money on this one. We have to plan on the Gray Man being there, in Venice.”
“How can he possibly know—”
“He seems to be getting his intel on the fly. He learned something at the Mostar way station that led him to Vukovic. He learned something from Vukovic that led him to Dubrovnik. I think it’s possible that he learned something in Dubrovnik that will lead him to Venice.”
“Aren’t you stopping to pick up more girls before Venice?”
“Yes, but we’ve moved the location. He won’t find us there.”
“All right,” Hall said. “I can put guns and guys on my protectee, but I can’t go out there and whack your assassin for you.”
Verdoorn replied, “I suggest you bring Cage into Venice normally, the way you always do. Assuming we don’t get Gentry before tomorrow night, we will attempt to acquire our target as he closes on his target.”
Hall stared at his phone, then swigged more icy vodka straight from the bottle. “So you are saying my principal will be in the center of a manhunt. Like . . . like bait.”
“It’s a big world, mate. We can only find Gentry if we draw him to us. I have no bloody clue if the Gray Man knows about Cage, or the market, or even if he knows about Italy. I just know it’s better to respect your enemy’s capabilities. Something I learned along the way, and something they didn’t teach our employer in business school, apparently.”