His gaze slid back to me.

“How many friends do you have left, Piet?”

“Lots.”

“And I’m sure, now that this Edward might be gunning for you, they’ll be lining up to help.”

He let the sarcasm hang in the air for a long moment. “Why would you help me?”

“Money. I’m very predictable. And hell, man, I’m sort of deep in this now.”

“If I don’t do this job, I have not so much money. I need it. Badly.”

I wasn’t particularly interested in his financial woes. These guys were all the same: big risks, big payoffs, and they blew it on bling and expensive girlfriends. “Here’s the deal. You’re crippled right now. I still have my resources to help you move what the mystery meat is that you’re shuttling for this Edward guy. You’ve lost your team, you’ve lost some of your capital. You take me on as a partner, just for this job. I get half.”

“Half!” Red crawled into his cheeks and he didn’t bother to keep his voice down. The Scots and the old man glanced at us.

“Half,” I whispered. “I’m pulling your fat from the fire.”

“You underestimate me, Sam, very badly.” The words were stone cold.

“I think I’m estimating your sorry-ass position just fine. Good luck with Edward. And good luck with the police, or Dutch intel, or whoever’s gunning for you. Between those two, I predict a week full of puppies and rainbows for you, asshole.” I tossed euros on the counter, got up to leave. If he stayed, I would grab him when he walked out and haul his ass upstairs and let him see what a grieving husband and father could do to mortal flesh.

He let me take five steps before he spoke. “I’ll give you thirty percent.”

“Forty-five.”

“Forty,” he hissed. “I set up the job, I’ve done most of the work. You’re just helping me reach completion. Forty.”

I needed to let him win the battle. “All right, forty percent.”

He risked a smile at me; it was the same smile he’d given the captive women and it took a certain amount of self-control not to slam my beer glass into the shine of his crooked teeth.

“Then you deserve to know who we’re fighting.” He made his voice low.

“Yes.”

“It’s not the police. It’s a man. Bahjat Zaid.”

“I know that name.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Military equipment manufacturer; I read the Economist, you know.” I risked a frown. “Did you counterfeit his goods? Rip him off?”

“Not me. He has a grudge against Edward.”

“Legit business types don’t hire gunmen.”

“Zaid does.”

So true. “And this respectable businessman’s trying to derail your big job?” I wanted to know if he would confide in me about Yasmin. “Why doesn’t he just call the cops?”

“He has his reasons.”

I took a sip of my beer. “What are you smuggling to the United States?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“Piet, I have to know. I can’t get it packaged and shipped without knowing. Be reasonable.”

His need to trust me won out. “Military equipment.”

“What kind?”

“Electronics.”

I didn’t like this vagueness but I wasn’t sure he’d tell me more, not in a public place. “What kind?”

“Experimental. Zaid has his reasons for keeping the police out.”

“What reasons?”

Piet finished his beer, watched the remaining suds inch down the empty glass.

What mattered was getting Piet and Edward and their group all together. I had to work that angle relentlessly.

So. Put the edge of the knife against Piet’s fears. “So you’re in a mess. You’re moving counterfeit cigs to the U.S., and you’re hiding Edward’s secret military experimental equipment inside the shipments. Now you’ve lost your cigarettes and your means of smuggling Edward’s gear.”

Piet clenched his eyes. “I’m screwed, and I don’t like being screwed.”

“So. We need goods to ship, to serve as camouflage for whatever Edward wants to get into America.”

“Yes.” For a moment he looked like a stressed owner of a small business, worrying over his accounts payable and an anemic cash flow.

“I have a solution.” One, I thought, that would get me close to Edward and Yasmin and the rest of the group.

“What?”

“We steal replacements.”

“Replacements?”

“Yes. Hijack a load of goods. Preferably counterfeit; that way, whoever you rob won’t go to the police and we ship whatever secret stuff Edward wants in the U.S. in the stolen goods containers.”

“It is a bold thing to steal a freight shipment.”

“Easiest thing in the world, if you know how to do it. But you and I can’t do it alone. This Edward guy, he must have people, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then we need them.”

“They are not robbers.”

“Neither am I, but circumstance dictates. Do they want to get this electronic gear, whatever it is, to the U.S.?”

“Yes.”

“What is the gear?”

He leaned close to me. I could smell his deodorant, the soft stench of his scent, the beer on his breath. “Weapons.”

“Weapons. For who?”

“Not your concern.”

“What kind?”

“Terrible ones,” Piet said.

I said nothing for a long, long minute, let the conversation in the other parts of the Rode Prins rise and fall. Then:

“Define terrible,” I said. “Unlike you, I don’t bite off more than I can chew.” I had to play my part right, and it was okay to be scared of the enormity of a job.

“You can’t back out now.”

“Are you going to tell me the N word?”

“N word?”

“Nuclear.”

“Oh, my God,” Piet laughed. “Oh, no. No.” He laughed again. “No.”

“I need details.”

“Before I give you details, I need to talk with Edward.”

“Fine. I need to talk with Edward, too.”

“Why?”

“Because I blew Nic’s cover and I saved all your asses. I want payment. I want my slice of this, Piet. I’m getting shot at and I deserve a stake in this deal.” I made my words a hiss. Apply the pressure, I thought, crack him. Crack him now. Make the world an anvil falling from the sky in a twisted cartoon to obliterate his head. “I don’t share a bit of information on the shipments until I talk to this Edward and his people. Not a bit.”

I could sense the desperation coming off him. A dozen telling signs: in the flick of the tongue on his lips, in the way he held the heavy glass. This was a man not easily rattled and he was rattled, badly, by the thought of failing Edward.

He didn’t speak, so I asked, “When was your shipment supposed to arrive in Rotterdam?”

“Morning after tomorrow.”

“Then we don’t have much time, do we?” Tomorrow wasn’t enough time to plan a robbery, but I hoped that their desperation would be as great as mine.

“Edward does not rush. Ever. He will not be rushed by my deadline.”

In the mirrored wall of the bar, I saw Mila walk past us. She did not look at us; but she caught Piet’s eye.

He watched her pass with an appreciation that made my bones go cold. “That’s a prime little number.”

“Three or five?”

“Huh?”

“Little prime number. What, you don’t like math jokes?”

“Math only exists for money.”

Mila vanished through a door into the back of the Rode Prins. I wanted to talk to her, now, find out what had happened.

He finished his beer. “Come with me, Sam.”

I didn’t want to leave but I set my beer down. “Where are we going?”

“You want to meet Edward, you shall meet Edward. Let’s go.”

Finally. It would happen. I was going in unarmed, but I’d face the scarred man. Find my wife and my child.

Henrik watched us leave. I wondered if Mila was going to tail me again. But I never looked behind me to see. I couldn’t have Piet becoming suspicious.

57

I SAW HIM.” HOWELL STOOD in the quiet of the safe house in Amsterdam. Outside the spring light danced on the shallow waters of the Herengracht; bicyclists pedaled by slowly, savoring the lovely day. He could smell gunfire and blood as if it were burned into his clothes. “I saw Sam Capra. He fired on us. He left behind a warehouse full of goods that I suspect are stolen or counterfeit, and a room full of women I suspect are bound for sex slavery.”