part0091

R ichter buzzed in Gerhard as he stared at his phone, puzzled. The call had been brief, and odd to say the least, though he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned, for it seemed absurd.

“I just had an unusual phone call from the buyer.”

“He asked me to describe our driver, because the man who picked him up had ill-fitting clothes, then we were cut off.”

Gerhard’s eyebrows rose. “Ill-fitting clothes? That’s ridiculous. All of our staff are meticulously outfitted as per your instructions. Happy staff are loyal staff, and loyal staff are quiet staff.”

“Exactly, so if this man had ill-fitting clothes, then he can’t be one of ours.”

“Have you tried calling him?”

Richter shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t recognize his voice if he answered. Would you?”

“I would.” Gerhard retrieved his phone and dialed, putting it on speaker. A generic voicemail, not set up because the man had probably never missed a phone call from his employer in his entire career, answered immediately.

“Not necessarily, sir. You said you were cut off, and we know reception can be spotty at times. Rarely do we talk to our people en route from Marrakesh for just that reason.”

“But ill-fitting clothes?”

“That is a puzzle, sir, and does concern me. I’ll check the security footage. If his clothes fit when he left, then they should have when he picked up the buyer.”

“Let’s hope they didn’t fit, because if they did, then we have a serious problem.”

G erhard stared at the courtyard camera footage in the security center, peering intently at the chauffeur’s sleeves and pant legs. “Do his clothes look like they fit to you?”

The security officer nodded. “Yes, sir. Don’t they to you?”

“Yes, they do, I just wanted to make sure no one could be mistaken.” He pointed at the screen. “Send that footage to Mr. Richter.”

Gerhard headed back to Richter’s office, his mind racing. The driver had clearly been replaced. Yet how would anyone know to do it? It made no sense. There was no possible way for someone to know that their driver was heading into Marrakesh to pick up the buyer, unless it was an inside job, and he couldn’t see that. The staff was loyal, paid well, and always under surveillance.

He tapped the keypad outside Richter’s sanctuary and the door beeped. He opened it and stepped inside. “I’m afraid we have a problem, sir.”

Richter frowned. “The clothes fit?”

“The clothes fit.”

Richter cursed. “Then something’s gone wrong. The question is, what? Our driver is intercepted, the buyer is picked up. How did they know?”

“They would have questioned the chauffeur when they intercepted him.”

“Yes, yes, but how would they have known to intercept him? Only we knew he had been sent.” Richter’s eyes widened. “We have a mole inside the compound!”

Gerhard shook his head. “I find that hard to believe. These are all trusted people who’ve been with us for years.”

“Everyone can be bought. The question is by whom?”

Gerhard decided he had to continue down this train of thought, and only one possibility came to him. “Aren’t we forgetting the obvious?”

“The authorities. Perhaps they were able to track the professors here.”

Richter cursed. “Damn that fool for insisting we meet in person. This is what happens when plans are changed at the last minute. Mistakes are made.”

“Sir, this entire operation was last-minute. They had already taken the museum before your plan even began.”

Richter regarded him for a moment. “True, but those plans would have been perfect if we had been able to do a handover to someone else. That bastard insisting they be at the meet, and that it be here, caused all of these problems. We could have just put the Bible on the plane and have been done with it.”

Gerhard wasn’t convinced of his own idea. “But if it were the police, why not just arrest the buyer, and raid the compound? The Moroccans would want to look good on the world stage, especially with so many dead. They could send several hundred troops here and force us to surrender without firing a shot. Instead, they replace our driver? That sounds like an infiltration operation to me.”

His boss’ head bobbed. “You’re right. The Europeans wouldn’t send a team here to arrest me without notifying the locals. They’re sticklers for procedures, just look at that ISO crap they foisted on everyone. I haven’t seen an IT project finish on time or budget since.” His eyes widened. “What would you do if I were kidnapped?”

Gerhard’s eyebrows shot up. “I would find out where you were and mount a rescue operation.”

“And what if you couldn’t trust or rely upon the local authorities?”

“I would send Mr. Kriel and his men in.”

“Exactly. These professors are rich. My kind of people. They would have their own private security, I’m willing to bet. This could be a rescue op by their people. That would mean limited numbers, so surprise would be a necessity, especially with a compound like this. At most a dozen men, perhaps fewer. If they could get a man on the inside, this substitute chauffeur, they might be hoping to get the upper hand. Just a few minutes of confusion could give them the advantage.”

“I’ll warn Kriel.”

“And the buyer?”

“Let him come. But I want that chauffeur taken down the moment they arrive. Alive. I want to know his plans, how many are with him, everything.”