18
NanoUSA
28 February
Wednesday, 1:00 p.m. local time
Zoe didn’t need Jen, or anyone else, to escort her into Robert’s office.
She simply knocked, waited for his “come in,” and when it came, entered with confidence, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Robert rose from behind his desk, gesturing for her to join him in the sitting area.
“I’d rather talk at your desk,” Zoe replied, lowering herself into one of the cushioned seats across from his executive chair. Setting the tone she wanted, she smoothed down her pencil skirt below her knee before crossing one leg over the other. This meeting was going to be all business and all about her future at Nano. No corporate discussion. No technology updates. And certainly nothing that smacked of personal.
“All right.” Robert looked puzzled, but sank back down into his chair, studying Zoe as if trying to figure out what was going on in her mind and what this meeting would entail.
He was about to find out.
“Robert, this follow-up conversation is long overdue,” she began. “I don’t need to remind you yet again what a loyal, committed member of the Nano team I’ve been for over fifteen years. I’ve devoted my entire life to this company, and to you.”
“No one knows that better than I do,” Robert replied. “Just as you know how much I value you.”
She sidestepped that one. “You’ve told me in confidence that you’ll be retiring even sooner than the rumor mill expects—probably in May. You’ve also told me that Vance will be your appointed successor. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that that means a big promotion for Ethan.”
Robert’s brows knit. “None of this is news to you, Zoe. I’ve been completely up front with you from the start. In fact, you’re the only person at Nano who knows my timeline.”
“Yes, and also the reason for your timeline.”
Tight lines formed around Robert’s mouth. “Now you’re out of line.”
“I’m out of line?” Zoe felt a surge of anger. She’d thought she’d long since let this go, but clearly it was a wound not so easily closed.
Forcibly, she shut the door on her emotions. To rehash this was useless. What was done was done. The important thing here was her promotion.
“I didn’t come in here to argue, Robert. I came to discuss my future at Nano.”
Some of the tension left Robert’s body. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and interlacing his fingers. “I haven’t forgotten my promise. Shortly, I’ll be analyzing the composite of the HR department. That will be a key step in finding a way to seamlessly fit you in.”
“What does shortly mean?” Zoe asked. “It’s been two months since we first discussed this.”
“I understand your impatience.” Robert’s voice was both sincere and reassuring. “You know me better than to think I’m blowing you off. But you also know how consumed I am with the release of our new technology. That takes priority over everything. Even you. Please have patience with me. I won’t leave you hanging.”
Zoe sighed. “I don’t doubt your good intentions, Robert. I, better than anyone, know how much Nano means to you as well as how important the release of our new technology is. It will revolutionize the industry, change the balance of power, and create thousands of American jobs. But I have to be a little selfish. I have a career to protect. I’m very upset that we’re no further along in securing my future here than we were two months ago. And now you have a McKinsey consultant sniffing around, one who could suggest any number of changes or streamlining—all of which could wind up screwing me.”
Leaning back in his chair, Robert rubbed his eyes. “I’m truly sorry, Zoe. I mean it. But I’m stretched way too thin to promise you an immediate response. I fully intend to promote you to a position worthy of your talents. And, yes, I’d like it to be in human resources, just as you’ve requested. It’s just going to take some time for me to figure out the best way to make this happen without ruffling everyone’s feathers.”
“How much time?” she asked quietly.
Zoe’s tone must have struck home, because Robert straightened in his chair and stared directly into her eyes, searching for something and finding it.
“Is this your way of telling me that you have some personal deadline after which you start checking out opportunities outside of Nano?” he asked bluntly.
Zoe didn’t look away, nor did she lie. “It means I can’t live on somedays. I’ve told you that in the past. And, no, I haven’t put myself out there yet. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been approached.”
“I see.” Rather than pissed off, Robert looked sad. “I’d hate for Nano to lose you. I’d hate to lose you. You’re very important to me—you always have been, both professionally and personally. I want you to be happy. I hope I can make that happen right here at Nano. But if something extraordinary comes along sooner than I can come through for you, I’ll understand. I’ll hate it, but I’ll understand.” He searched her face. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
To Zoe’s own dismay, a shimmer of tears glistened in her eyes. At the same time, she felt vindicated about the decision she was about to make, and the necessary actions that would accompany it.
“Not really,” she replied. “What I wanted to hear was that you’d found the ideal executive position for me. Instead, what I’m hearing is that I’m not high up on your to-do list right now, but that I have your blessing to resign.”
He rose, reaching across the desk to take her hand. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
She pulled her hand away and then came to her feet. “Actually it is. What’s more, down deep I guess I expected just this response. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less.” She blinked away her tears, more set than ever on her course and unwilling to ever let this man make her cry again. Too many years, too many tears.
“We understand each other, Robert. Just as we always have. I’ve given you my all. Now it’s time for me to take care of me.”
* * *
Zoe marched straight back to her office, any indecision having evaporated.
She picked up her phone and called David Cheng.
“Hi, David, it’s Zoe. I’m ready to hear your offer.”
“Great.” He sounded more than pleased. “Let’s meet for a drink at Jake’s. What time is good for you?”
“There’s no time like the present. How about three o’clock?”
“Done. I’ll bring our offer in writing. You’ll see firsthand how much we value our partners. In anticipation of us striking a deal, why don’t you bring a copy of Nano’s org charts? That way, we can start making money together sooner.”
“That works for me. See you at three.”
Zoe disconnected the call and dialed Jen’s extension.
“Can you sit at my desk for the rest of the afternoon?” Zoe almost smiled as she asked. Jen would jump at this chance. She might be just a seat-holder. But she’d relish any interaction with their CEO.
Sure enough, Jen sounded delighted. “No problem, Zoe. Is everything okay?”
“I just have a splitting migraine. Tell that to Robert if he asks.”
Sava Bridge, Zagreb
28 February
Wednesday, 11:25 p.m. local time
The night was winter cold, with only a few pedestrians making their way across the arched bridge that spanned the old and new sections of Zagreb. There was a second bridge a short distance away, where a small stream of cars was moving in both directions, but the bridge on which Marc waited was solely a pedestrian bridge, where walkers, joggers, and bikers were free to travel without vehicle interference. Tonight, few of them were taking advantage of that opportunity, given the dipping temperatures and the lateness of the hour.
Marc leaned against the railing of the bridge, staring out across the smooth, dark waters of the Sava. The lights cast by the occasional streetlamps flickered off the river surface, reflecting off the snow-covered trees and making them glisten. A picture-perfect postcard, were Marc here for the scenery. But he was not.
He knew he was early. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that fact. Ten minutes to go. He pushed away from the railing, instinctively glancing to his left and to his right before reaching down his shirt, feeling for the slide switch on the transmitter, and moving it to the on position. A couple of seconds later, he could hear the sounds of Philip’s voice coming through his earpiece.
Speaking at a normal volume, he sought the verification he needed. “Philip, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear,” Philip replied in Marc’s earpiece. “At your end?”
“Crystal.”
“Good.” A pause, during which Marc could visualize Philip scanning the area.
“No sign of them yet,” Philip reported. “But it shouldn’t be long now. Sorry you don’t have your Rambo knife to play with while you wait.”
Marc didn’t smile. “Evidently, that’s for the best,” he replied. When he’d spoken with Danijel a short while ago, he’d felt obligated to be forthcoming. And Danijel had told him—no, ordered him was more like it—to leave the knife behind.
“This is a key contact I’m setting you up with,” he’d said in a tone that shut the door on any argument. “I’ve worked with him before and kept him out of prison more than once. But feel lucky that he agreed to talk to you. He’s not a big talker. You won’t get a second chance. So use this one wisely. Know who you’re dealing with. This is not a violent man. Let’s say he arranges shipments for a competing Albanian group.”
Okay, drugs. Marc got it. “So he’s doing this because he owes you?” he’d asked.
“Partly. But also because the Sallaku family was responsible for killing his brother. His desire for vengeance is great. But his fear is greater. If you show up with a weapon, he’ll bolt. Leave the knife at the hotel, or I’m calling off this meeting.”
Marc had instantly agreed.
Now he walked over to the nearby bench and sat at the edge, legs spread apart, hands gripping his knees, ready to snap into action at the first sign of Danijel and his CI. He breathed deeply, watching his exhales emerge in clouds of icy mist. As always, he was outwardly calm, internally coiled to strike. It was the Navy SEAL in him, a quality that was as much a part of him as breathing.
“Your guests have arrived,” Philip announced.
“So I see.” Marc had spotted them approaching out of the corner of his eye. He rose, wishing he’d worn his damned gloves. It was freezing, but given what Danijel had said, there was no way Marc was shoving his hands into the pockets of his parka. Too much of a risk that the informant would think he was reaching for a weapon. He just turned to face them, arms at his sides, putting on his let’s-do-business rather than his intimidating expression.
“Good evening,” Danijel greeted him, purposely avoiding the mention of his name.
“Chief Inspector Horvat,” Marc replied with a nod. “Thank you for meeting with me tonight. And please thank your contact.”
While Danijel was doing just that, Marc gave the anonymous CI a quick once-over. He was short and stocky, wearing a heavy work coat with the hood pulled as far over his face as possible. All Marc could make out was a long face with a shock of black hair, a large nose, and a stubble of beard. And the guy was a nervous wreck, shifting from one foot to the other and gazing furtively around as if he expected to be shot dead at any given moment.
Marc was glad he’d listened to Danijel about the weapon.
“In English, tell me exactly what you want him to know,” Danijel instructed. “I haven’t told him anything other than you’re American, that you’re trustworthy and in trouble, and that you require his help. I want to be sure I convey as much or as little as you choose. But be as detailed as you’re able. It’s the only way we can find out how much help he can and will offer you.”
Marc cleared his throat, keeping his gaze on Danijel as he spoke—and not only because it would be Danijel who did the interpreting but because a direct stare could freak this quaking CI out and send him running. Which was the last thing Marc wanted, not when his gut instincts were telling him that this liaison could yield major results.
“Please let him know this situation is urgent,” he responded to Danijel’s request. “We’re looking for a kidnapped young woman. She’s an American college student and we have reason to believe she’s being held in Croatia by an Albanian crime group. If he can do anything to help us—and fast—we’d be very grateful. Assure him that this is a low-risk, high-reward arrangement for him. For the right information, he stays nameless and safe and also receives a large cash payment.”
Danijel turned and spoke to the man in rapid Croatian, clearly saying a whole lot more than Marc’s tersely worded statement. The CI listened intently, spitting on the ground when the name Sallaku was introduced.
Derica spoke up in Marc’s ear. “Chief Inspector Horvat is saying that he is certain the Sallaku family is behind this kidnapping and that he knows about this man’s personal vendetta against them,” she said. “He expressed sympathy about the murder of his brother. He also assured him that this conversation would be completely confidential on the law enforcement front—no official reports filed or red flags raised. And he gave his word that you can be trusted and talked to.”
The man hesitated for a few seconds, and then fired back a reply to Danijel.
“He’s frightened,” Derica translated. “He says they’ll slit his throat if they find out he talked to you at all, much less gave you damning information. He wants certain reassurances in advance—more than just Danijel’s word that you can be trusted.”
Even as Derica spoke, Danijel was turning to Marc. “I think an incentive might be in order.”
Marc had already figured that one out and was reaching into his pocket. He waited only until the chief police inspector had averted his gaze.
“This is for you,” Marc said directly to the informant, handing over some folded bills. He knew it didn’t matter that his words couldn’t be understood. He was speaking the universal language of cash.
Even though the man’s face was partly covered, Marc could see the look of surprised pleasure that lifted the corners of his mouth. One thousand American dollars wasn’t something he was offered every day.
He stuffed the money in his pocket, then said something to Danijel’s averted profile.
“Chief Inspector,” Marc murmured to Horvat. “Why don’t you rejoin the conversation.”
Danijel complied, turning to Marc. “It seems that my contact is willing to help you—given your offers for now and for later.”
Marc stifled a chuckle. The guy was making sure there was more cash to come.
This time he looked directly at the CI and nodded.
Satisfied, the man glanced back at Danijel and resumed speaking.
“He’s saying that Croatia is too broad an area for the kind of time frame you’re talking about,” Danijel told Marc. “He’s sure you have a more specific location in mind. And he wants to know what that is.”
“Slavonia,” Marc replied without hesitation. “She was taken there less than a week ago. We need specifics about where to look. And just so your informant knows, all we want is her safe return. We have no interest in anything or anyone else.”
Danijel again rattled off something in Croatian, and a brief back-and-forth ensued.
“Danijel just repeated what you said and then reminded his informant that he owes him a favor,” Derica reported. “The informant hedged, saying he’s based in Zagreb and knows nothing about Slavonia. Danijel jogged his memory, commenting that the CI has a well-connected uncle in Slavonia—one whose hatred for his nephew’s killers is equally powerful.”
Marc absorbed all that information, watching as the nervous man fingered the cash in his pocket. Apparently, it reassured him, because he nodded again.
There was another brief round of conversation between him and Danijel.
“The informant asked for a few days,” Derica said. “Danijel refused. He said that time is of the essence and he expected a meeting with the informant and his uncle by early morning. He said that you and he would meet them in Osijek at the location of their choice.”
Marc knew from Terri’s report that Osijek was the capital and largest city in Slavonia, and that it was less than a three-hour drive from Zagreb. Of course, there was also a forty-five minute direct plane flight between the two cities, but that might be tricky to pull off without producing proper ID—something that would be an impossibility for both Danijel and the informant, each with different needs for anonymity.
“I’m a fast driver,” Philip said in Marc’s ear. “Even dawn is more than doable.”
Inwardly, Marc nodded. Outwardly, he stood quietly as the informant responded to Danijel.
The chief inspector inclined his head at Marc. “I’ll hear from him within the hour,” he reported. “I don’t expect any complications. As for the rest of my conversation, I’m sure you already heard all the details from your interpreter. So go back to the hotel and wait for my call. Be ready to drive.”