12:25 pm Central European Daylight Time (6:25 am Eastern Daylight Time)
Interpol Liaison Office - Special Investigations Unit
Europol Headquarters
The Hague, The Netherlands
“Miquel, you need to leave. You’re only making this worse on yourself.”
Hans Jute was here, in Miquel’s office, sitting right on the other side of the desk. The Deputy Director of Europol had made an appearance at the Special Investigations Unit, a very unusual place for him to turn up.
Jute was here, not to play the gracious host, but to play the angry landlord, kicking out an undesirable tenant. The reflection of the light off Jute’s glasses made it seem as if the man didn’t have eyes.
“Hans, we have intelligence to suggest that the next drone attack is today, in New York City. We are working to…”
Jute shook his head. “Miquel, you don’t have anything. You lied to your superiors and your police partners about the activities of Mariem Dubois and Troy Stark. You appear to have condoned an extralegal home invasion of a prominent citizen. You are under indefinite suspension, with possible termination in your future. Your unit is disbanded, and no longer has an office here at Europol. A case can be made that you are trespassing inside this building. I haven’t made that case yet because I do like you, and I do care about you. But if you remain here much longer, I am going to have you escorted off the premises, with all the public embarrassment that will entail, and with a note to your file that such a thing was necessary.”
Jute raised his hands as if to say, “There’s nothing more I can do.”
Miquel thought about it.
“If I leave, can Jan continue the work he is doing?”
Jute shook his head. “Agent Bakker has been reassigned. He is on loan to Europol. He is to surrender any Interpol materials and equipment he has, and report to my office upstairs. We are looking forward to working with him and want to get him up and running as soon as possible. He’ll be assigned new equipment this afternoon.”
That was perfect. It was just like Hans Jute not only to kick Miquel out onto the street, but also to poach his data analyst and technology expert.
“You don’t understand,” Miquel said. “The intelligence we have…”
“Agent Bakker can submit any intelligence he has to his superiors at Interpol. I am sure they will provide it the attention it deserves.”
Jute stood briskly.
“I’ll give you 15 minutes to pack up what you need from here. In the meantime, I’m going to take Agent Bakker with me.”
“He can’t be interrupted.”
“He can and will be interrupted. As I indicated, he has been reassigned. To me.”
Miquel was about to do a strange thing. It was nothing he had ever considered before. But there was no way Jute was simply going to shut down this office or put a stop to what they were doing here. They were very close to disaster now, another one, worse than before. But Dubois and Stark might be close to stopping it. And they needed Jan to help them.
Miquel was beside the point, except as a way to make their work possible. And as such, he could destroy himself, if it meant they could continue on.
“Can I show you something Hans?”
Jute’s shoulders dropped. He likely thought Miquel, reaching the end of his career, was going to pull out something sentimental, even maudlin. An award for bravery he had received as a young man, or maybe his first badge. A picture of his children as toddlers. Something that a rational man would be mortified to show in this situation.
“Of course.” Jute’s tone suggested he was exasperated but demonstrating the infinite patience of a superior officer.
Miquel opened the drawer of his desk. Inside was a silver Walther PPK pistol with black grips. Yes, the same gun James Bond carried in the early films. It was a beautiful gun, all steel, heavier than most guns its size. And it was loaded.
He pointed it at Jute.
“Get out of my office.”
To his credit, Jute showed no fear. He just shook his head in disapproval. “Now you’ve done it. Do you know that? You were finished a minute ago, but they probably would have let you retire. Now you’ve pulled a gun on a fellow law enforcement officer. Inside a police building. You’re going to be arrested. This will be the most humiliating end to a mediocre career that I can think of.”
Jute gestured at the gun. “Why do you even have that in here?”
Miquel stood and came around the desk. “I have it so I can walk you out of here, and so you cannot disturb the important work my people are doing. Now turn around, hands in the air.”
Jute hesitated.
“Hans, I swear to Jesus, I will shoot you where you stand.”
Something got Jute moving. Maybe it was something in Miquel’s eyes, desperation or cold-blooded calculation. Miquel wasn’t sure what his eyes were showing. He just knew that he would shoot Jute if he had to.
Jute turned around and headed for the door.
“Do not stop. Do not talk to Agent Bakker.”
Miquel walked Jute through the outer office, and then out into the hallway. Jan didn’t even turn around as they passed. Miquel stood on the catwalk with Jute for a long moment, the gun held low now, hard for passersby to see.
“It’s over,” Jute said. His balding head gleamed in the overhead lights. “Your career, your freedom, your very life, I guess. Expect to be arrested in the next ten minutes. That will give you enough time to take that gun and do the honorable thing, if you can find the courage.”
Miquel shook his head. “I won’t kill myself. You know that. But I also won’t let you obstruct this work. I promise you’re going to have a lot to answer for.”
Jute smirked. He began to say something, but Miquel was already going back into the office. Inside, he went immediately to a cabinet and came out with a pair of handcuffs, the real kind, steel manacles. He clipped one to each of the two handles of the doors. Cuffed together, they would not open all the way. It was better than the digital lock, which Jute could easily have someone override. But it wouldn’t last forever.
He looked at Jan.
“Jan, I think we’re going to lose access to our computers. We will probably lose network access. We might even lose power.”
Jan didn’t take his eyes off the screens, or his hands off the keyboard. He nodded. “I know. I anticipated that a little while ago. I’ve moved to auxiliary power. I’ve created a strong networking hotspot here, with redundant internet and satellite access. And I’m using my own computer, which I cannot be locked out of.”
Miquel nodded. He went over to the large filing cabinet, got to its side, placed the gun on top, and began pushing the cabinet toward the door. This was going to be primitive. He was just going to blockade the doors with heaviest office furniture he could find. If Jute wanted to break in here and arrest him, he would have to smash through thick glass, and shove cabinets and a conference table out of the way.
He would probably do it anyway, but it was going to take a while.
“What’s the update?” Miquel said.
Jan stared at his screens. “We’re looking for a ship.”