Carter felt his hackles come up, and he let them.
"You mean I've got to bust this guy out of a jail without letting him know I'm a plant, then keep both the KGB and his own people off his ass until I can get him to a place God-knows-where for a meeting God-knows-when?"
"Exactly. It's right up your alley, Nick. Now, we do have a plan. There is a woman in Manhattan named Naomi Bartinelli…"
Carter finished his drink and chuckled as he set the glass back on the tray before him.
"Something amusing?" Carlotta asked, pulling the earphones away and flipping the switch on the control console in the armrest.
"Just going over the whole thing in my head."
"And it's funny?"
"Deliriously," he replied. "I've decided that we've got about a ten percent chance of coming out alive."
They landed at Amsterdam's Schiphol airport at eleven-ten. Customs were cleared quickly, and by noon they were in a Mercedes taxi heading for 1 Professor Tulpplein.
They mounted the steps to the imposing stone structure of the Amstel and moved into its sweeping, three-story-high main lobby.
"I have a reservation. Two rooms adjoining. Kashmir."
"Yes, sir."
Both rooms were luxurious and high up with a view of the whole city.
"We won't be able to do much until this evening," Carter said. "Tired?"
Carlotta shrugged. "More uneasy than tired."
Carter brushed his lips across her forehead and lightly caressed her cheeks with his hands. "I'll call Garrett. It's likely he has the contact for our meet set up by now. Why don't you freshen up and try to rest for a while? We can have an early dinner."
Carlotta nodded and moved toward the connecting door. Just before she closed it behind her, Carter thought he caught a look in her eye.
He dismissed it as the lock clicked, and he headed for the lobby and a pay phone.
"It will take about twenty minutes, sir," the overseas operator said in barely accented English. "If you will leave your name at your hotel desk, I will have you paged."
Carter grabbed a quick sandwich and was just sipping the last of his coffee when the page came.
"This is Kashmir."
"Yes, sir. I am ready with your call. Go ahead. New York."
Both men waited for the distinctive click of the operator departing the line, and then Carter spoke.
"It's me. Are you on, Al?"
"Oh, yeah. Everything is set. Our lady in Manhattan is a very efficient conduit."
"And the computer codes were no problem?"
"None. Child's play for an old-time genius like me."
Carter grinned. "I love your modesty. Give it to me."
"All right. You are Jasmine. Your contact is Oakhurst. The contact will be confirmed with the word 'decibel. Use it in a sentence."
"Got it," Carter replied. "When?"
"Tonight. Take a boat ride on the Singel Canal at nine o'clock; it's the number three boat. Get off at Kroman. Two blocks down from the canal, there is a cafe called The Jazzman. Your contact will pick you up there. It will be a woman."
"Anything else?"
"Maybe," Al said and floated from the phone for a moment. When he returned, Carter could hear papers rattling. "I've uncovered a couple of earlier deals where Kashmir has used Oakhurst. It might be good for you to know about them, as further proof of who you are."
"Good man, Al."
Garrett quickly ran through the details of the previous two arms deals, and Carter catalogued them in his mind.
"That's it. I don't imagine I'll be hearing from you again."
"I don't like the way you say that, Al," Carter said with a chuckle. "I owe you a dinner in Arlington in six weeks. I'll be there to pay off."
"You're on."
"Ciao."
Carter returned to his room, stripped, and took a long shower. When he emerged from the bath with a towel around his middle, the door linking his room to Carlotta's was ajar.
She was in bed, with just the sheet over her long, slim body. Her eyes were open, and they rolled his way when he stepped into the doorway.
"Are we on?"
Carter nodded. "Tonight. I'll give you the details over dinner. Can't you sleep?"
"I told you, I'm more uneasy than tired."
The look was age-old, and Carter didn't miss it. He moved to the side of the bed and stood looking down at her. The drapes were pulled, the only light coming from his own room through the open door behind him.
He leaned forward, hooked a thumb in the sheet at the top of her breasts, and slowly pushed it down to her knees.
She was naked.
Only her arm moved as she tugged the towel from his body.
Her eyes roamed with approval over his body. His chest was a solid plate of muscle, and his belly was like a washboard. Thick ropes of muscle rippled down from his shoulders through his arms, and he moved into the bed beside her.
Without a word she moved to him, kissing his chest, her lips heating the flesh while her hands worked to excite him.
"Do you think this is wise?" Carter asked.
"No, but I don't give a damn. Do you?"
"No."
Her face was close to his. He loosened the coils of her hair, and it cascaded down around her shoulders like a black waterfall. She twisted her head from side to side, whipping his face with the silken strands.
"Sadist," he teased.
"Masochist," she replied. "I'm prolonging the agony."
"Then let's get down to it."
His hands reached behind her to fill with the lush swells of her buttocks. He then pulled her forward until his lips could find the tips of her throbbing breasts.
Carlotta curled her fingers in his hair, pressed his face tighter against her for a second, then pulled his head back.
"I love that."
"Then why stop?"
"Because I want more."
Again her head moved, and her hair whipped the length of his body, missing not one square inch of skin.
Carter was not passive through all this. His hands stroked the silken length of her back, squeezed her buttocks, and rolled and molded her breasts that hung away from her body when she bent over.
"Enough," he finally growled, rugging her up and over him.
She pressed herself against him, her breasts spreading as they flattened to his chest. He kissed her wildly, then pulled back and rolled her over.
He took her in one smashing second, and the room began to spin around them. His lips muffled her cries as he drove himself against her.
His body fit hers perfectly as his hands found her breasts. Each time he crashed against her, Carlotta's body moved an inch or two on the smooth surface of the sheet.
"Do it… do it!" she suddenly cried.
He did, all of it, until she arched toward him, urging him with every gesture and sound.
Slowly, and together, in matching rhythms they moved, each sensing the tide of rising passion in the other until their bodies were whirlpools of frenzied motion.
Suddenly, with her nails digging into his straining back, she arched and writhed as though her entire body had become a taut cord about to snap.
And then it did, and Carter with her.
Both their bodies settled with slowly diminishing spasms until Carter rolled to her side. She snuggled against him. molding the length of her body tightly to him.
"What time do you leave?" she asked, all desire drained now from her voice.
"Around nine."
"It will be nonstop from there, won't it?"
"Yes," he said, and nodded.
"Good luck," she whispered.
She relaxed against him, and just before sleep came, he felt her tug his hand upward to cover the pouting firmness of her breast.