If Wilde left, then there would be no problem. He wasn’t entirely sure why the man would want the report, but it certainly meant that he was interested in the underground water sources of the Rub’ al Khali, which posed a significant risk to the investment of his employers. If he persisted in trying to find Richter, then Novikov would follow the student to wherever he was staying and deal with him. Once Wilde was dead, he would head to Cairo and kill Anastasia Metry, and then all loose ends would be tied up once and for all.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Manama, Bahrain
Anastasia was tired. She had traveled for nearly twenty-four hours, had been in Bahrain for nearly a day, and had gotten precisely nowhere. When she arrived, she went straight to her father’s office as soon as it opened and talked to his coworkers, but no one seemed to have any idea where he was. They explained that he had been planning an expedition to Saudi Arabia, and that it had recently been funded, so why he would simply vanish was a mystery. Next, she went to his home. Again, there was nothing out of the ordinary. He was just gone, and so was his work laptop. It was as if he had just vanished off the face of the earth.
She spent the rest of the day talking with the Bahraini police force, but that also seemed to be a dead end. Her father’s coworkers had filed a missing persons report when he didn’t show up for work after several days, but so far there had been nothing to indicate his whereabouts. The most that law enforcement could tell her was that he hadn’t left the country by air, and there was no indication of him leaving through one of the ports or by land into Saudi Arabia.
That meant he was still in the country, or that he had left without going through official customs procedures. Or he was dead. Anastasia shuddered and tried to push the thought from her mind. He was the last person she had left on this earth that she was truly close with. Her mother was gone. Her relatives in Egypt were more acquaintances at this stage of her life, with many not approving of her decision to put her career before starting a family. And she’d not had a true relationship in years. Her father was all she had, and without him she would be lost.
Anastasia sipped her tea, trying to relax. She’d rented a room at the Crowne Plaza from which to conduct her search, and though they were very nice accommodations, it hadn’t done much to improve her mood. Her sleep had been restless last night, and the rising sun provided little additional comfort other than to allow her to restart her search. She would not be able to relax until she found her father, let alone enjoy luxuries such as those afforded by the fancy hotel. Her main reason for choosing such expensive lodging was the security it provided.
Perhaps there was a reason that her father disappeared, she thought to herself. She wasn’t sure why, but maybe he had left her a clue of sorts. She grabbed her MacBook Air off the table and propped it up on her lap. Pulling up her email she again read through the last message he had sent her, a simple request to review a hydrological report on the Rub’ al Khali that was related to his latest project.Could this be the answer? Was it possible that he had gone on the expedition and the Bahraini security forces simply misplaced his customs papers?
She opened the report attached as a PDF document. It was from Western Michigan University and gave a breakdown of their findings. They had used remote sensing technology, ground-penetrating radar, and the Gravity Recovery and Climate Experiment, nicknamed GRACE. It was a NASA satellite mission that measured minute changes in Earth’s gravity to identify, among other things, underground watersources. Through these methods, they had determined changes in groundwater storage over time and accumulation and depletion trends, allowing them to ascertain the location of underground water sources in the desert based on the placement of ancient, dried streambeds. It was a common geological phenomenon for ancient rivers to be absorbed by the landscape over time, yet still present deep underground.
This was certainly an interesting find. With water being a rapidly diminishing resource in the Arabian Peninsula, the prospect of additional freshwater sources was noteworthy to be sure, and Anastasia could understand why her father had been excited. Not only would this help a lot of people, but if he were the one to actually discover these sources, he would be set in his field for life. She wished she had looked at the report sooner. Maybe she could have offered her opinion on it, which, giving it a cursory glance, seemed promising. Maybe he would have told her his plans. Maybe he wouldn’t be missing.
Her computer chimed, indicating that she’d received an email. She had sent out messages to multiple individuals, including colleagues of her father in various departments at the United Nations, and several Bahraini officials who she hoped might be able to help. But as yet she hadn’t heard anything back. Anastasia minimized the hydrology report and saw that she had received an email from Gilbert Richter of the U.N. It took her muddled brain a moment to realize that his was the name on the forwarded email chain and he had worked with her father to coordinate the report. She hoped that perhaps he had news of her father’s whereabouts.
She excitedly opened the email and read its contents. It sounded like he had information about her father, which was great. But it also sounded as if her father might be in some type of trouble, which was not. Richter wanted to meet in Cairo, which was certainly convenient, even though Anastasia loathed the thought of returning there. Shewould be obligated to visit her family and would hear all manner of rebukes for her lifestyle, having chosen to leave Egypt and pursue a career in Europe. But she knew she had to go; there was no other option.
Her heart sank when she saw that he wanted to meet next week. It was such a long time, and she was already exhausted from searching for answers. Another few days seemed a torturous amount of time to wait. She sipped her tea and pondered this development.
No, this was a good sign, she decided. Clearly this Richter individual was working with her father. If he wanted to meet, it was to discuss something concerning her father, which meant he might be in trouble, but that he was also alive. She allowed herself to relax. It was one step closer.
Anastasia settled in and began drafting her reply, telling Richter she would meet him in Cairo.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bonn, Germany
Novikov checked his watch and then adjusted his position to get a better vantage. He was in the back seat of a white Mercedes passenger van and was using a long 300mm lens on a Sony Alpha 9 III camera to snap pictures of the people entering the U.N. campus. He’d arrived early to find an appropriate parking spot along Kurt-Schumacher-Strasse that afforded him an overwatch of the main entrance to the compound. Richter’s email informed him that the graduate student was supposed to meet with the German at ten this morning. It was now nine thirty.
From his perch in the back of the van, Novikov had a view of all foot and vehicle traffic entering the area. The panel van had extremely dark tint on the windows, allowing him to move about without fear of observation from outside. If a police officer or security guard were to approach, he had a story about waiting to drive a delegation to the airport, and he had excess luggage and other documentation to prove it. The story wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, but it would be enough to get him free of the area. And if that failed, the former Russian commandowas armed, had a well-crafted escape plan, and held no reservations about killing police.
There had been the usual foot traffic of employees entering the complex, many of whom Novikov recognized from the previous days of conducting static surveillance. Then there had been a lull, with only a few individuals showing up. He snapped identifiable photos of all of them, but now was when his clock started. Novikov figured thirty minutes prior to the proposed meeting time until thirty minutes after would be the most logical window for his target to show up, and he readied himself accordingly.
He preferred not to go in blindly to any situation and had sent the name Nathan Wilde up to his employers for a name trace and any additional background information. That had been late last night, and he knew it would most likely be a day or two until they got back to him. In the meantime, he would have to identify the student by the right place, right time, and right demeanor.
At exactly nine forty-five two men in suits walked across the street and strode toward the guardhouse. He snapped photos of both in rapid succession. They both wore dark suits, one taller than the other, and strode with long and purposeful steps that seemed almost military in their cadence. Instead of badging in they stopped and conversed with the guards, who appeared to check their names against a roster before allowing them to enter.Could one of these men be the graduate student he was waiting for?
Novikov had expected one man, not two. Additionally, there was something in the way the two men moved, a sort of athletic yet easy rhythm.Perhaps they were student athletes?He looked again at the photos. They were definitely older. One appeared to be in his thirties and the other pushing forty.A student and a professor?This was not what he had expected, and it gave him pause.
He waited until ten thirty. A few more individuals arrived at the compound. One was a man he recognized, and the rest were women. All badged in without delay. Strangely enough, the two men were the only ones to roughly fit the profile. They had also shown up at the right time and were not regular employees. Either the man he was waiting for hadn’t shown, or Wilde was one of the two he had seen earlier.
Either way, it would be more difficult to follow two men than one, particularly if they had any situational awareness, which judging by the casual way they had scanned the road as they crossed, was a distinct possibility. Novikov knew the time of the meeting, but he didn’t know how long they would stay. Of course Richter would not be showing up to the rendezvous; he was lying dead in his living room. The man might wait an hour, or he might wait all day, which would also tell Novikov how motivated this Wilde individual was to acquire the report. In that case, the student’s fate would be sealed.
Pulling out a smartphone recently purchased with cash and in disguise, Novikov did a search for hotels in the area and began calling them one by one, asking for Nathan Wilde. Finally, he received confirmation from the Dorint Venusberg Bonn and asked to be connected. There was no answer, which meant Wilde was likely not in his room.
Novikov pulled up a map of the area and found the hotel. The location could not be more perfect for what he had planned. It was a contemporary building with three floors and set back in a forest, making approach and escape relatively easy. In the event that something went wrong, there would be multiple options for evasion contingencies. He was beginning to feel more confident about the operation, even if he didn’t receive the target’s profile in time.
Novikov decided he would wait until the two men left the U.N.They hadn’t arrived by vehicle and, being that the hotel was about two miles away, he guessed the two physically fit men had walked to the campus and would walk back. When they left, he would leapfrog ahead in his vehicle, giving him at least thirty minutes to locate Wilde’s room and set up an ambush. He didn’t know who the second man was, but if he got in the assassin’s way, then he would die as well.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The trip to Bonn had been more relaxing than anticipated. Even though Nate was wound tight about getting the information on Saudi water tables from the U.N., he’d allowed himself to relax. He and Wally spent the remainder of the day in London, with Wally capitulating and going along with Nate as he toured Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, and the British Museum. He’d have loved to get out to Salisbury Plain to see Stonehenge again but thought better of pushing his luck. He was already putting his British friend through enough torment.
