least a decade. Darcy looked at numbers that were blood money and she wanted him.
She focused on the items they knew had been purchased. She was willing to bet one of the diamonds was going to turn up as a gift to Renee. An expensive stone—likely having its characteristics recorded in the international registry of gems—prestigious, possibly named, and sold to a private collector. Word would get out. She’d know what she was looking at when she saw it.
“The love of money is the root of all evil . . .” The Scripture fragment came to mind and was personalized by the data she looked at. Luther was the embodiment of the pursuit of wealth destroying conscience.
“Darcy?”
“It’s open.” She’d stuck a piece of cardboard in the doorjamb to prevent the lock from closing.
Gabriel joined her, carrying dinner. “Eat.”
She moved aside papers to make room for the china plate. “I could get used to being back in Europe; meals are rarely fast food.” She pointed with her fork to the chair beside her. “Sit. I want to run something past you. Luther’s third man, Peter Dansky, what are his habits?”
Gabe had been working with the Russians to get a profile figured out. “It’s an educated guess: gambling, Russian vodka, and fast cars.”
“Does he strike you as a careful man?”
Gabe thought about that. “Yes and no. He plays with explosives; he’s the operations man in the threesome. Luther wouldn’t have hired him if he was careless or wasn’t extremely good. Dansky believes in planning and security, but he’s also the ultimate kind of risk taker. He thinks he’s invincible.”
Darcy nodded. “I’m thinking it would be worth digging into European luxury car dealers for about the time Dansky showed up on the radar screen. A really expensive custom car bought with cash sometime between September 11 and December 31. A show-off piece. It won’t be in Dansky’s name, probably not even traceable money back to one of these accounts, but how many new car owners do you think we would have to covertly photograph and check out? A couple hundred?”
“We don’t know if he’s in Europe,” Gabe pointed out.
“Luther’s money is primarily in Europe, his wife is French, his second in command is Russian. Dansky is probably from Belgium. They are going to hide where they’re comfortable. I’m betting the Caribbean if they do leave Europe.”
“I’d put my money on Canada,” Gabe suggested. “We’re still turning up safe houses the Russians set up during the cold war. Luther came through the same KGB school Sergey did. We lost Sergey more times than I can count when he’d slip away from the UN in New York, drive up to Canada, and disappear.”
“The Siberian express. Skirt around Alaska and you’re in Russia,” Darcy remembered with fondness.
“Luther’s a planner like Dansky. You can bet he already had every place he and Renee would live and visit for the next couple years arranged before September 11 ever went down. He’d have stayed with things and places he trusted.” Gabe got to his feet. “I’ll get people looking into cars. It’s a good idea for Dansky. Got plans for tonight?”
“I’m going to catch up on my reading.”
“Stick around and grab a catnap on the couch. Defense has a lead on the Egyptian Battihi. He may have been spotted in Lebanon last night. A transmission will be coming through in a few hours. They’d like us on the translation feed to see if we can help with IDs.”
Darcy looked over, intrigued. “Number eight on our terrorist list? He’s trying to move those explosives we’ve been hearing about?”
“We’ll find out. It would make a great evening if we could take him out.”
“Come get me when the transmission comes through.”
JANUARY 16
Wednesday, 1:20 a.m.
Lebanon
Distances in the ocean at night were deceptive. The SEAL delivery vehicle began to slow. Sam strained to see ahead. In the murky darkness forty feet below the surface of the
She focused on the items they knew had been purchased. She was willing to bet one of the diamonds was going to turn up as a gift to Renee. An expensive stone—likely having its characteristics recorded in the international registry of gems—prestigious, possibly named, and sold to a private collector. Word would get out. She’d know what she was looking at when she saw it.
“The love of money is the root of all evil . . .” The Scripture fragment came to mind and was personalized by the data she looked at. Luther was the embodiment of the pursuit of wealth destroying conscience.
“Darcy?”
“It’s open.” She’d stuck a piece of cardboard in the doorjamb to prevent the lock from closing.
Gabriel joined her, carrying dinner. “Eat.”
She moved aside papers to make room for the china plate. “I could get used to being back in Europe; meals are rarely fast food.” She pointed with her fork to the chair beside her. “Sit. I want to run something past you. Luther’s third man, Peter Dansky, what are his habits?”
Gabe had been working with the Russians to get a profile figured out. “It’s an educated guess: gambling, Russian vodka, and fast cars.”
“Does he strike you as a careful man?”
Gabe thought about that. “Yes and no. He plays with explosives; he’s the operations man in the threesome. Luther wouldn’t have hired him if he was careless or wasn’t extremely good. Dansky believes in planning and security, but he’s also the ultimate kind of risk taker. He thinks he’s invincible.”
Darcy nodded. “I’m thinking it would be worth digging into European luxury car dealers for about the time Dansky showed up on the radar screen. A really expensive custom car bought with cash sometime between September 11 and December 31. A show-off piece. It won’t be in Dansky’s name, probably not even traceable money back to one of these accounts, but how many new car owners do you think we would have to covertly photograph and check out? A couple hundred?”
“We don’t know if he’s in Europe,” Gabe pointed out.
“Luther’s money is primarily in Europe, his wife is French, his second in command is Russian. Dansky is probably from Belgium. They are going to hide where they’re comfortable. I’m betting the Caribbean if they do leave Europe.”
“I’d put my money on Canada,” Gabe suggested. “We’re still turning up safe houses the Russians set up during the cold war. Luther came through the same KGB school Sergey did. We lost Sergey more times than I can count when he’d slip away from the UN in New York, drive up to Canada, and disappear.”
“The Siberian express. Skirt around Alaska and you’re in Russia,” Darcy remembered with fondness.
“Luther’s a planner like Dansky. You can bet he already had every place he and Renee would live and visit for the next couple years arranged before September 11 ever went down. He’d have stayed with things and places he trusted.” Gabe got to his feet. “I’ll get people looking into cars. It’s a good idea for Dansky. Got plans for tonight?”
“I’m going to catch up on my reading.”
“Stick around and grab a catnap on the couch. Defense has a lead on the Egyptian Battihi. He may have been spotted in Lebanon last night. A transmission will be coming through in a few hours. They’d like us on the translation feed to see if we can help with IDs.”
Darcy looked over, intrigued. “Number eight on our terrorist list? He’s trying to move those explosives we’ve been hearing about?”
“We’ll find out. It would make a great evening if we could take him out.”
“Come get me when the transmission comes through.”
JANUARY 16
Wednesday, 1:20 a.m.
Lebanon
Distances in the ocean at night were deceptive. The SEAL delivery vehicle began to slow. Sam strained to see ahead. In the murky darkness forty feet below the surface of the
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