The man beside him chuckled. “That earpiece is a godsend and a curse at the same time. Come on, Val’s waiting. I believe they’re hot-spotting off MI5’s internet. We’ll be clear of them in about five hundred feet.”
“Go with Harbinger. He’s a coworker of Val’s,” the voice spoke again, and that was when Smith placed it. It was the man who was on the call about the explosives.
“Lead the way,” he said to his ride.
Harbinger spun on his heel and set off, and Smith followed him to a sedan parked illegally. He went around the car and got into the passenger seat, pushing the seat back as far as it would go to get comfortable. As the man drove, he watched as the buildings and stores strobed by. There was a cosmopolitan feel to the city that all cities had. Still, the age of the buildings and the occasional glance at an opulent statue or stately manor differentiated the city from the others he’d been through. He watched as a double-decker bus turned in front of them. The size wasn’t that impressive, but the unique history of the buses, originating in France as horse-drawn buses, was, and Smith longed to have a closer look at the vehicles.
“Here we are.” Harbinger made a move to get out of the vehicle.
“I can get to the room by myself.” Smith exited the sedan and buttoned his suit jacket, looking up at the hotel.
“I have no doubt about that, my brother, but I was told to deliver you to Val in person, and I’m a rule follower.” The man snorted, laughing at a joke to which Smith wasn’t privy.
They walked through the lobby and took the lift to the ninth floor. Harbinger directed him to the left, and they walked down the thickly carpeted hall. At room nine-forty-five, the man stopped and knocked.
For some reason, he felt like a wayward child being returned to his parents. The door opened, and Val, who did not look like the woman he got onto the aircraft with, opened the door.
“Hey, blondie, I see you’re rocking the brown now.” Harbinger opened his arms, and Val leaned in, hugging him.
“Wigs are the best. Thank God I didn’t have to color my hair.” She turned to Smith. “Damn it. I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. It wasn’t her fault the hijackers chose that flight. Why she was sorry was beyond him. Unless she was sorry for asking him on the vacation. Smith blinked as Val talked with Harbinger. If that were what she meant, he’d figure out a way to get back to the States. It would be a big hit on his savings, but flying economy would help.
“I’m out of your hair. Brown or blonde.” Harbinger extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Smith. What you did for Mrs. Henshaw was a good thing, man.”
Smith slowly extended his hand and shook the man’s hand. He felt he should say something in acknowledgment but quashed the idea when the guy turned and headed back to the lift.
“Come in.” Val opened the door wider and stepped back. His gaze swept over her as he walked in. The short brown hair and changes she’d made to her makeup made her look entirely different. She was even wearing contacts, turning her blue eyes brown. He stopped and looked at her tennis shoes. “You’re taller.”
“About three inches with the lifts I have on,” she acknowledged as she shut the door behind him and put her hand on his back. “I’m sorry for the complications of the trip, but not for asking you to come with me.”
He turned to look at her as she smiled up at him. “They’re looking for you.”
“They can look all they like. I’m quite good at my job.” She motioned for him to go into the suite. “I bet you’re exhausted and hungry.”
He stopped. “The Hague was attacked. The small plane would have struck about the same time we would have been cleared for landing. By the time the alarm sounded, both aircraft could have crashed.”
She nodded. “That’s the theory our superiors are working with, but until they get facts, we’re on hold.”
“Hold?” he repeated.
“Yes. Teams are being recalled, and Guardian will work this case. It has international ramifications. Guardian is an international player, whether or not we’re recovering from a TKO.”
“What was the endgame?” Smith took off his suit jacket when Val motioned for it.
“Well, someone was being tried at the Peace Palace.”
“Yes, Melvin Komal. I’ve been following the case.” The man was a first-class bastard, and although the war crimes tribunal was dysfunctional, Smith was happy to see the man come to justice. Some of the allegations in the media were sickening. Children were his primary victims. Icy hatred washed through Smith. Hurting kids was where he drew the line. Children were innocent, and no one had the right to strip that from them.No one.
“Right. I don’t know if they were trying to kill Komal … or had other plans. Maybe Komal wasn’t the target. I haven’t heard anything more.”
“Speaking of hearing.” Smith tipped his head and used his fingernail to indicate the small device. “You in my head I can deal with, the other? No thanks.”
“Oh, they got it to work? Thanks to someone’s size fifteen shoe, my earpiece is now tarmac fodder.” She rolled her eyes. “They’ll send me a new one. Do you want to take a shower? I’ll call down for room service. I’m starving.” She reached for the menu. “Steak?”
Smith blinked at her, then looked around the suite. “Clothes?”
“They’ll be delivered. There are bathrobes in the closet.”