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He closed his eyes now, conjuring up the lasagna’s packaging. The words on it had been in English, but that proved nothing. He’d already shared that detail with Mikel anyway.
Instead, he tried to remember something—anything—about the masked figures who had entered the tent. He was certain there had been more than one. However, they’d always worn black from head to toe, loosely fitted, with reflective silver masks that were terrifying because they’d had no features. Evidently, the plastic of the masks was transparent from the inside looking out. They were cheap things that you could buy at any party store, but the effect had been devastating and effective at concealing his abductors’ identities.
Mikel had admitted to being grudgingly impressed by the level of professionalism the criminals had shown. They had been well disciplined, too, refusing ever to speak to Gabriel.
And he’d tried everything to get a word out of them because the isolation had driven him crazy. He had attempted to keep track of the cycles of bright and dim light, using whatever plastic utensil he was allowed for his evening meal to scratch tiny marks on the tent wall. However, he would forget if he’d already made a mark for that day and then agonize over whether to make another one.
He had poked at his guards when they’d entered his tent, taunting them, begging them, asking them questions about their families, pretending to be sick, even sobbing. He winced at that last memory. Not once had they broken their menacing silence.
Their only concession after four days had been to give him three books: Don Quixote, Cien años de soledad, and El alquimista. Although he’d already read them all, his gratitude had been soul-deep, something Mikel had attributed to mild Stockholm syndrome. To Gabriel, though, the books had been a way to escape his inescapable prison. Reading about jousting at windmills had been far preferable to staring at tent walls, wondering if his abductors were going to kill him.
Of course, he’d also wondered how the negotiations had been proceeding between the kidnappers and his parents, his uncle, and Mikel. He’d hoped that only Mikel had seen his severed ear. He’d hated to inflict that kind of grotesque horror on his parents or the king. Mikel could handle it better.
To this day, he didn’t know who had opened the box with his bloody body part in it.
He shook his head to clear such useless thoughts.
Voices. He needed to focus on those. He pawed through the memories and jerked his head up. He had heard his kidnappers speak. Just barely.
“What is it?” Quinn asked, noticing his sudden movement.
“I heard more voices than I realized. Sometimes I would know when someone was about to enter the tent because I could hear muffled voices coming from the corridor leading to the room where I was imprisoned. Either the door wasn’t fully closed, or they finished speaking just as they opened it.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember the tiny snippets of speech. “They spoke different languages. Spanish. Also, English. And French.” All the languages spoken by nearly every citizen of Caleva.
Opening his eyes, he turned to Quinn, feeling a surge of excitement. “Kodra probably won’t speak Albanian or Italian to his contact. Maybe I’ll recognize his voice in a different language.”
“That would be very helpful.” Quinn smiled encouragement before she prodded, “Can you remember anything they said?” Before he could answer, she went still, listening to her earpiece. “Kodra’s disembarked.”
Gabriel’s excitement turned colder and took on an edge of nerves. Would today bring him face-to-face with the tormentor who had stolen his music from him?
Anneliese pulled over to the curb behind a line of idling cars. “We’ll pretend we’re a ride-share for a few minutes until we know which direction to go.”
The car went silent again, and Gabriel wished Mikel had given him a radio as well. He didn’t want to delve into the past when the present felt so urgent. “Will you tell me when there’s any news?” he asked Quinn.
“Sure thing. Right now, I’m getting a narrative of Kodra walking through the airport. Not exciting. Shit!” She turned an apologetic face toward Gabriel. “Sorry, but they’re pretty sure Kodra just got his rendezvous location on a piece of paper he pulled from under a sink in the men’s room. That means we can’t hack into his phone or computer to get it, so we’ll have to follow him instead of being able to scout out the setup ahead of time. Mikel says whoever he’s meeting is a pro.”
“I assume that makes it more likely that he’s dealing with the same person who planned the kidnapping.”
“Let’s hope so,” Quinn said. “Kodra didn’t check any luggage. He’s headed for the exit now. He’s taking a taxi. No surprise there since he can pay cash.”
“Looks like he’s heading north,” Anneliese said, easing the car out of the line and onto the road. “Not toward his hotel, so this may be the meet.”
No one spoke as Anneliese maneuvered through the flow of travelers. “Roger that,” she said.
“Mikel’s just telling the drivers what order to go in,” Quinn murmured to Gabriel. “One of the agents on the plane managed to plant a tracking device on Kodra’s overnight bag, so we can stay out of his sight.”
Clearly, Mikel was as good at this as those they were following. Not for the first time, Gabriel wondered where Quinn’s boss had come from. “How many car chases have you been a part of before this?” he asked her in a low voice.
An odd look crossed her face. “This is a first. I’m a computer nerd, not a field agent.” Her attention focused inward, so he knew she was listening to the radio. “He’s crossed under the highway and is in a place called Sacavém.”
Gabriel glanced out the window to see a line of blocky brick apartment buildings along the road. A few minutes later, they passed under the elevated lanes of a major highway, and the scenery became industrial. The street narrowed and wound past auto parts stores and run-down apartment buildings.
“Thank goodness Anneliese chose such nondescript cars,” Quinn muttered as she, too, looked at their surroundings. “He’s stopped at a restaurant, Casa do Peixe.” She listened for a minute. “Mikel’s not happy. It’s a dive that’s nearly empty at this time of day. He’s probably not going to allow you inside. There’s a fish counter, though, which means he can send in a couple of agents to buy fresh fish so they can get video and audio.”
Quinn’s eyes began to dance, and she leaned close to Gabriel. “Glad I won’t be in the car with their purchases.”
He turned his laugh into a cough since Anneliese and Ivan probably wouldn’t appreciate levity in such a tense situation. He was grateful to Quinn, though, as he felt the tension bunched in his chest ease slightly.
Anneliese drove around a sharp corner and pulled into a parking space in front of a dingy furniture store. Ivan got out and went around to the trunk, returning with a black duffel bag, which he passed to Gabriel. “There’s a baseball cap and mirrored sunglasses in here. Mikel wants you to put them on in case we have a chance to get you on-site. Take out your cell phone and stare down at it while you’re walking.” Ivan nodded to Quinn. “You should be ready to go with him as camouflage.”
