“How about lunch and a beer in the shade?” Kurt said. “Wrecking boats always works up an appetite.”
Rand grinned and waved for them to follow. With his angry sister at his side, he led them back to the house. They went up a small flight of stone steps and then past a shimmering blue pool and into the great room on the lower level. The room was a marble-walled museum of a space, with a grand piano, animal skin rugs on the floor, and built-in couches clad in exotic leathers around the walls.
“This is where the party will take place,” Rand told them.
“The two of you will be long gone by then,” his sister insisted, glaring at Kurt and Joe.
“Hopefully,” Kurt said.
“But if it works out, and we’re still here…” Joe began.
They went up a spiral staircase designed to look like a huge strand of DNA. The steps were wide enough to accommodate three or four people side by side.
At the top of the staircase they emerged into a slightly less ostentatious room. Comfortable couches were set up in front of an ultra-high-definition television so massive it took up an entire wall. In dizzying fashion, it was displaying the qualifying rounds of the Formula 1 race in Abu Dhabi.
“I was supposed to be there,” Rand told them, sounding disappointed. “I was supposed to be there right now. A friend with a very large yacht invited me to spend the week, surrounded by very beautiful women drinking absurdly expensive champagne. But I couldn’t go. You know why?”
Before Kurt could hazard a guess, Rand’s sister replied.
“It’s not safe,” she reminded him. “You haven’t been given amnesty…yet.”
“Amnesty,” Kurt said. “Really?”
“We’re working on it,” Rand insisted. “Pru is, anyway. I don’t hold out much hope.”
“Maybe we can help,” Kurt insisted.
“Not getting me killed before it’s granted would be a start,” Rand said, showing the first bit of irritation at Kurt and Joe’s presence.
They passed the wall-sized screen and settled onto the couches. Kurt could not recall sitting on a more comfortable piece of furniture.
Rand touched a button. The television went dark. The wall slidback and a view of the beach and the turquoise bay appeared. It was a million-dollar view in a ten-million-dollar house, but Rand continued to fidget like a hunted rabbit.
“Heavy lies the head that wears the smuggler’s crown,” Kurt said.
“Occupational hazard,” Rand said. “And then there’s your letter, which has thrown me off a bit.”
“Help me and you won’t ever have to worry about what’s in that letter,” Kurt said.
“This is all wrong,” Pru snapped, standing up. “Who are these people to come in here and talk to us like this? If they mix you up in something new, we’ll never be free of this life.”
It suddenly occurred to Kurt that Rand’s sister was his protector, as serious and determined as he was flighty and boisterous. It sounded as if she were trying to help him escape the life of crime he’d built for himself. She thought Kurt and Joe were fellow criminals.
“Why do we even have to talk to them?” she continued.
Rand sighed. “Because, darling, I once did a very stupid thing and let my conscience make a decision for us. These men know about it. And in this letter, they detail who else will learn about my poor choice, should they not return unharmed to the streets of Washington, D.C.”
She looked confused.
“Maybe I can help,” Kurt said. “We work for the United States government. We’re not smugglers or weapons dealers. Two years ago, your brother gave us some information that helped us stop an incredibly dangerous man from dumping radioactive waste into the sea. That secret remained hidden, as we promised him it would. But as I detailed in the letter, if Rand wants it to continue that way he needs to help me one more time.”
“Ahab,” she said grimly.
Rand nodded. “Ahab.”
“This is extortion,” she insisted.
“That’s one word for it,” Kurt said. “But let me put it to you this way. Ahab is on a revenge tour. He tried to kill Joe, me, and Gushan. If I don’t find him and stop him, that tour is going to continue. At some point it will probably make a visit to your neighborhood. But if I get my hands on him, that’s one less thing you’ll have to worry about. And if you’re actually closing in on some form of international amnesty, then a good word from friends of mine—who are far more prestigious than I—could be entered on your behalf.”
